#I think about sitting in front of my peers while he hands back my homework assignment filled with red and a note saying to stay after class

[blueicequeen19]

Control

Warnings: public cock warming, public unprotected sex, degrading, praise, Frat Boy Rafe 🔥

I didn’t object to Rafe pulling me onto his lap, trapping me between him and the table. I didn’t object when his hand started to trace circles along my inner thigh under my plaid skirt as he continued to read his book with his free hand. I didn’t even object when he began to palm my aching bare pussy. He’d made me take my panties off before we came and tuck them in his pocket. You didn’t complain when you were dating Rafe Cameron. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. And if he wanted to fuck you in the silent library, surrounded by his college peers then you let him.

I tried to be a good girl and not shift too much on his lap but it was hard with the way his skilled fingers kept stroking my clit until my pussy and thighs were absolutely soaked.

“Rafe.” I whispered, my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t move.” Rafe instructed in a whisper, never looking up from his book. I glanced around but no one was looking up or noticed. Everyone had their nose in a book, deep in concentration. The only way they could see what was happening was if they looked under the table. But I still had to remain quiet.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down even as he reached lower and buried two fingers inside me. I clamped my mouth shut, turning my head and attempting to plead with him with my eyes but he didn’t even look up from his book. A minute passed and his fingers didn’t move. I was starting to become delirious with need. I was about to start begging in front of all these people when his thumb pressed against my clit. My body jerked against the table but no one looked up, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

“I told you not to move.” Rafe finally spoke again in my ear, his voice low in warning.

“Rafe, please, let’s go somewhere.” I hissed back, my hands gripping the table to keep myself from grinding against his fingers.

“No, I have to study.” Rafe said, turning back to his book. I was going to die. I was going to cum in front of his peers and die of humiliation and maybe even a heart attack. I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Reach behind you and undo my pants.” Rafe murmurs softly in my ear. Oh god.

My hands shake as I do as instructed, his cock springing free the moment his button releases. He wasn’t wearing boxers. I try to bring my hands back around but Rafe curls his fingers inside me, making me gasp and jerk against him. Still, no one looks up or pays us any mind.

“Stand up and take a drink of your water then sit back down on my cock.” Rafe instructs, his low voice like a caress down my spine. He removes his fingers from inside me as I plant my feet on the floor and push myself up to reach for my water bottle. I take a small sip as I feel him guide his cock between my legs and to my soaked entrance.

“Rafe?” I startle, looking to one of his friends across the table who’s trying to get his attention. I’m afraid to move but Rafe’s fingers nudge my thigh, telling me to sit down.

“Yea?” Rafe asks, like I’m not about to sit down on his cock in front of all his peers. Rafe sits his book down to grab my thigh under the table and forces me to sit. The hardest thing I’d ever encountered was resisting the urge to let my eyes roll into the back of my head as he filled me. His cock was so thick and hard that I couldn’t think.

I could barely lean forward enough to grab my book but it only made him reach a different angle and I stopped abruptly, my inner walls spasming and my bottom lip quivers. The pleasure was so intense I felt like I was going to cry.

“Did you get the finance worksheet done?” Rafe’s friend asks. Rafe’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me firmly against his chest as he picks up his book again. I raise my own book to hide my face. They engage in conversation about homework in low voices so not to draw negative attention from the librarian all while I’m on the verge of unraveling. I could feel his cock pulsing inside me. Just as ravenous as I was.

Finally, Rafe relaxes into his seat and widens his legs, only driving his cock deeper. I let the book rest against my forehead to keep from moaning. I could feel sweat running down my back and on the back of my neck. I reach down to slide my hand under my skirt to take the edge off, to hell with these people, when Rafe’s hand suddenly snatches my wrist, holding it firmly against my side.

“Behave and I’ll let you finish.” Rafe murmurs into my ear, his breath on my skin giving me goosebumps and making me clench around him. The teasing was driving me mad. I needed to move. I needed to rock back and forth between bounces on his cock. I needed him to slap my pussy as I chased my release. I needed..

“Easy. You’re tightening around me. Wouldn’t want me to get mine without yours, would you?” Rafe taunts in my ear. My nostrils flare and I debate standing. To hell with this.

Just then a book slams shut and one of his friends announces it’s time to get something to eat. The rest follow suit except one girl who looks between us, her murderous glare landing on me before she follows the rest of them. I suddenly felt privileged to be sitting on Rafe’s cock out in the open if it brought the jealous bitch some misery.

Now that we’re alone, Rafe sits his book down and wraps his free arm around my waist. My heart rate kicks into high gear as he positions my legs on either side of his, opening me obscenely wide while immobilizing me.

“R-Rafe—.” I start, my body beginning to tremble.

“Take your panties from my pocket and put them in your mouth. I know you’re a desperate little bitch but I need you to be quiet.” Rafe murmurs, his hand sliding between my legs to stroke my clit. I buck and whimper as I reach back with a shaky hand and dig my panties from his jacket pocket. This was so degrading but I didn’t care. His cock was so hard inside me and rubbing against places that threatened to send me to another dimension. If he wanted me to put my own panties in my mouth, I would.

“Good girl.” Rafe purred, lightly slapping his hand against my pussy. My body seized and I gripped the table for dear life. Anyone could walk around the corner and catch us. We could be expelled.

All thoughts left me as Rafe begin to move, slowly pumping his cock in and out of me like his soul purpose in life was to see me lose control.

“Fuck yes.” Rafe breathed, pumping his hips harder and faster. The sound of my arousal was obvious with every push and pull of his thick cock. The thought of being caught only made me more wet. I was right there. Right. There.

“Put your feet on the floor and grab the table.” Rafe suddenly says, helping me maneuver my shaking legs over his to reach the floor. My body tightened around his again as I brought my legs together, tears filling my eyes as I did as I was told.

“Lift up just a little and hold it. Don’t move.” Rafe rasps, his voice thick with need too. Good. I wanted this to drive him just as crazy.

The moment I used the table to lift myself up, he started to fuck me hard and fast, his pelvis slamming against my ass where he yanked my skirt up. I buried my face against my arm to keep from making any noises even with my own panties in my mouth as he pistoned into me, using his hands on my hips to pull me back into every thrust. All while he stayed sitting down.

“Cum you little slut. Let me feel it drip down to my fucking balls.” I didn’t have to be told twice. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my body seizing and convulsing as he ripped the most intense orgasm of my life from my body. I knew I’d made a mess. I faintly heard a small gasp that I knew hadn’t came from me so I lifted my eyes to find the mean girl from earlier watching us with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth. I smiled at her just as Rafe huffed a breath and spilled inside me, flooding my insides with his warmth.

“Goddamn.” Rafe breathed, pulling me back against him as the evidence of what we’d just done drips from me. The girl turns and flees and that makes me happier.

“How about you get underneath this table and clean up our mess then we’ll go get dinner?” Rafe whispers in my ear, his hand sliding between us to cup where we’re still connected. I turn my head to face him and he pulls my panties from my mouth and kisses me hard. I begin to rock my hips again, my cares from earlier completely forgotten about as I chase another high. Rafe pulls back from the kiss to smirk at me, his hand sliding lower to force two fingers inside me along with his cock. I wince. The stretch too much but too good to stop.

“Greedy fucking slut. One more then you’re going to lap up this mess.” Rafe breathes, kissing me again to silence me as I fall apart again.

If he wanted me to crawl naked on broken glass just to taste him.. I would.

You didn’t tell Rafe Cameron no.

[sssammich]

collateral ch6

HELLO i'm posting this purely for the bit in that it's st. patrick's day and therefore it's kmcg's day. sorry to the one veto vote in my unserious poll.

here's the chapter in ao3

here's the rest on tumblr: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

thx for reading see u next time

---

It’s only Kara’s third week on the job at CatCo. It’s a definite upgrade from her job writing articles for the Midvale Messenger, but the transition from small town to big city living has needed a little learning curve. She’s barely gotten used to her schedule, let alone the bus route to and from her apartment when a really big assignment falls on her lap that changes her entire life. 

She looks up, pushing her glasses back on her face when she finds Snapper’s scowling face in front of her. 

“Come with me.”  

She furrows her brows, yet before she has time to ask him anything, he’s already walking away. She scrambles to her feet and rushes after her boss paying little attention to the stares coming from those around the office. She eventually gets her answer when they end up in his office.

“Sir, what—” 

“Can you explain to me why Lena Luthor requested you specifically to write about the launch of their new tech project?” 

Kara’s head remains empty as she quickly rifles through her mind for some flash of recognition to that name. She doesn’t know a Lena Luthor nor does she even cover the tech beat. 

“Snapper, sir, this might be a misunderstanding. I don’t know who that is.” 

He glares at her just as he places one hand on his hip while the other rests on his desk. “Well, you better figure out who she is quickly. You have an interview with her on Thursday at 10am. Do not be late. And make that article worth my while, you understand?” 

“Me?” she asks, her head slow to catch up to his words. 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that. Now, get out of my office.” 

Wordlessly, and still a little shell-shocked, Kara quickly exits out of his office and makes his way back to her desk. 

“What was that about?” William, one of her coworkers, asks her as peers over his monitor.

She shakes her head. “I have no freakin’ clue.” 

—

Armed with a memo pad and her trusty BIC ballpoint pen, she enters the L-Corp building in downtown National City. She’s on her second cup of coffee this morning, having stayed up late the last two nights doing her homework, researching about L-Corp, the upcoming project launch that the company has largely kept under wraps, and the head of Research and Design: Lena Luthor. 

She has no idea what this woman’s game is about, but she won’t turn down the opportunity as it presents itself. 

Wiping her sweaty hands on the back of her chinos, she reaches the 46th floor and talks with Lena’s assistant about ten minutes before her appointment.

“Miss Luthor will be with you shortly.” 

“Thanks.” 

She waits patiently in the small waiting area, her knee bouncing slightly. She crosses her legs at the knee and resituates herself to stop the bounce. She glances at the clock on the wall and finds that Lena Luthor is now five minutes late. 

She considers walking up to the assistant who seems very intently typing away at her keyboard, but thinks better of it. She waits it out, gives it another five minutes. She reviews her questions from her pad and double checks that her recorder is fully charged. The ticking from the clock and the consistent typing sounds fill the otherwise empty waiting area. 

She watches on as the assistant takes a call before looking over at her from across the way. 

“Miss Luthor apologies for her tardiness, but if you could wait another five minutes, she’ll be on her way up.” 

She nods and sits back slightly in her chair. The clock ticks on. 

While waiting, Kara briefly wonders if this is some type of test, a ploy to check on her. Her imagination lands her to think that this might be some kind of hazing from her colleagues. That didn’t make sense, however, not when this assistant seems like the kind of woman who wouldn’t participate in a prank if it affected her productivity. 

After almost twenty minutes, Kara audibly sighs, tries to rein in her annoyance, before getting up from her seat and decides that perhaps it’s best to reschedule. Just as she’s about to talk with the assistant, the elevator dings open and a woman in a lab coat wearing large dark-rimmed glasses with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail rushes towards them. 

“You must be Kara Danvers,” the woman says, her voice coming out composed despite the exhale she lets out, no doubt from rushing out. 

“I—yes,” she offers, a little stupefied in her spot, glancing down at the offered hand before slowly taking it in her own. 

“Lena Luthor. My deepest apologies for being so late; I was on my way up when a small emergency that couldn’t be ignored exploded…literally.” 

“Is everyone okay?” 

“Everyone is more than fine, thank you. Now, I’m sure you’re also a busy woman, so if we need to reschedule, then I understand. But if you have some time to spare, I can clear part of my schedule so you can ask all of your questions.” 

She blinks a few times to process Lena’s words, a reckoning force in front of her that Kara wouldn’t deny, even if she could. She beams and steps to the side. “Deal.” 

—

True to her word, Lena Luthor answers all of her questions about the new project called Biomax, a nanotechnology meant to advance and expedite healing for various open wounds and injuries. She thoughtfully takes notes of Lena’s responses knowing that the recording will help jog her memories if necessary. 

“Do you have any more questions?” 

Kara glances down to the last question that she has underlined twice: why me?  

She hesitates, an uneasy smile on her face. “Yeah, actually.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Why did you pick me to interview you? As far as I know, we’ve never met—I’d remember you, for the record—so…just…why?” 

Lena holds her gaze, her head tipping to the side as she regards Kara. She almost looks away under the attention, but maintains her composure. 

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t ask me right away.” 

She shrugs. 

“This project is very important to L-Corp and could greatly affect public perceptions of the company.” 

“I won’t write a puff piece if that’s what you’re asking,” she declares, sitting up. Yet Lena matches her and places a hand up, as if to stop her. 

“On the contrary. I need you to do what you do best.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Lena tents her hands in front of her and smirks. “Your established work in the Midvale Messenger shows level-headedness and thoughtful critiques. You’ve shown fair assessment and reporting, as far as I’m aware.” 

“Oh.” 

“This is a good project, Miss Danvers. I believe it can do a lot of good for a lot of people. But prior to the rebranding, L-Corp has been host to many scandals, as I’m sure your research has shown you. All I ask is that the project is reported on on its own merits and critiqued fairly for what it is and not who owns the building that developed it.” 

“You researched me?” 

“As I’m sure you researched me.” 

“Fair enough.” She nods in understanding. Then, “Don’t worry. I’ll do my job.” 

Lena smiles wide and Kara can’t help but glance down at red lips and white teeth.

“That’s all I ask.” 

Lena’s phone rings, signaling that she needs to get ready for an upcoming meeting. They both stand on either side of Lena’s desk before Lena walks around and stands practically toe to toe with her. 

“Thank you for your time, Miss Luthor—” 

“Lena, please.” 

“Lena, then. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Miss Danvers.” 

“Well, if I’m calling you Lena…” 

“Kara it is. Feel free to call back if you need anything else for your article.” 

It’s only as they take the few measured steps between the desk and the office door that Kara notes the warm and cozy tones of Lena’s perfume just as she catches the side to side swish of her long ponytail from the corner of her eye. 

She turns around again and offers a hand, this time Lena grabbing hold of it with ease and shaking it a few times. 

“I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.” 

“I hope not either.” 

It’s not until Jess opens the door in front of them that they let go of each other’s hands. 

—

Her article goes to print, and she’s happy to see her name on the byline. So soon after starting her job, too. 

When she walks into the office the morning her article goes live, she’s met with all eyes from everyone staring at her as soon as she steps out of the elevator. She offers them uneasy smiles as she treks to her desk only to find it teeming with flowers. 

“What’s this?” she asks as she tries to move the different bouquets out of her seat and away from her monitor and keyboard. She glances at William next desk over and he only shrugs. 

“Secret admirer?” 

She plucks the lone card from one of the bouquets and flips it over, grinning from ear to ear. 

Thank you for doing your job. L.L.

—

The paper bag crinkles in her grip as she adjusts the shoulder strap of her messenger bag. The elevator dings and she appears back on the 46th floor of the L-Corp building. 

She walks towards the assistant who doesn’t seem surprised to see her. 

“Hi, uh—” she quickly glances at the name on the desk, “—hi, Jess. I was here last time. I know I don’t have an appointment, but do you think Len–Miss Luthor has a small break coming up or anything like that?” She knocks her glasses back up her nose with her knuckle. 

Jess studies her for a moment before glancing back down to the monitor. “She’s free for the next fifteen minutes.” 

She nods quickly and smiles, appreciative of the granted access. 

Kara knocks and waits until she hears a muffled response for her to enter. She peeks through the door before slowly making her way in. 

“Hi, Lena. Sorry to drop in unannounced…”

“Kara, hello. This is a lovely surprise.” 

She hums. “Well, I was in the neighborhood.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm. It turns out, it’s hard to get work done when your desk is overflowing with flowers.” 

“Really? Never would have guessed.” 

“No? Somehow I’m surprised,” she asks with a slight giggle. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did.” Lena nods, her face sobering slightly, even with the smile still on her face. 

Kara brings a hand up and fixes her glasses again. “Well, I’m not sure I can compete with dozens and dozens of flowers. But perhaps I can offer you with a couple deep fried sugary goodness in exchange. You do eat donuts, right?”

Lena stands from the side of her desk and walks to accept the bag from Kara’s hands. “Well, I am human. Thank you, Kara. Won’t you join me? Probably for the best I don’t eat it all.” 

“Only if you’re sure.” 

Lena sits on the white couch at the far end of her office. “I’m very sure.” 

Kara takes a spot on the couch, the bag of donuts sitting between them. The fifteen minutes of break that Jess originally mentioned becomes half an hour then an hour until it’s just about time to leave for the day, the minutes and hours filled with conversation about nothing, everything. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, Lena,” she starts as they both rise to their feet. “I didn’t mean to keep you.” 

“Nonsense.” 

“I should probably get going, though. A few bites of donuts isn’t enough sustenance.” 

“Well, if you’re not tired of me yet, I was just about to grab some dinner. You're welcome join me.” 

"I couldn't impose." 

"I insist."

Kara glances down at the way Lena’s hands fiddled with each other. Then she thinks briefly about the empty apartment that awaits her and the leftovers sitting in her fridge. 

“Well, then, I’d love that.” 

— 

Days of friendship blossomed into weeks, Kara and Lena trading texts and video calls interspersed with dinners and coffees after long work days. 

The excitement of friendship with Lena lit something deep inside of Kara that she didn’t know ever existed. Simply put, being around Lena was a source of comfort while she settled herself in National City. 

“You’re not the only one who’s new around here,” Lena had said to her during one of their coffee outings, sympathizing with Kara’s adjustment after her recent arrival to the city. “It’s nice for me, too, to have someone—a friend—to spend time with. My therapist thinks so, anyway.” 

Kara then reached forward and placed a hand on Lena’s. “Tell your therapist you’re not alone, Lena. You’ve got me.” 

Lena smiled before reaching over and giving her a hug. Kara easily accepted, held Lena close to her, and made sure to never break her vow. 

—

It’s been a handful of months since Lena and Kara became friends, best friends even, and being allowed unrestricted access to Lena’s office for Kara to stop by still rattles something inside of her. It’s…she can’t quite put a finger on it. A kind of intimacy she enjoys: to be chosen, to be privileged in this way. 

She greets Jess with a grin and a separate bag for Jess’s favored almond croissants as Kara carries her and Lena’s lunch from Noonan’s. 

“How’s it looking today, Jess?” she asks just as puts the bag for Jess on her desk. The assistant grabs for the bag, an uncharacteristic voraciousness as she opens it and takes a whiff of the pastry. “That bad, huh?” 

“She’ll enjoy seeing you today, let’s just say.” 

“Alright. Does she have a hard stop?” 

“She has a conference call at 3. But otherwise, keep her from her computer until then.”

“Got it.” 

Just then, Lena pulls the door open. “Stop plotting against me.”

Kara beams and walks forward with a one-armed hug as she holds the bag of their lunch away from their bodies. She warms at Lena’s touch, both of her arms wrapping around Kara’s back before it gently slides down the length of her back before her hands rest briefly on Kara’s waist.

“I’ll plot against you any way I like. I’m my own woman.” 

“Yes, you are. It’s good to see you, darling. But we don’t have an appointment, do we?” 

“No, no. I just figured I’d drop off some lunch for you. Heard you’ve had a brutal morning.” 

Lena then glances at Jess who has remained steadfast in staring at her screen. “Is that right?” 

“Yes. Now we can stand here or we can actually eat some lunch. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” 

Lena steps back and allows her to walk past her, making a beeline for the coffee table in front of her white couch. She quickly takes out their food from the bag and situates it neatly in front of them, a nice little spread of salads and breads and pasta dishes. 

“Did you buy all of Noonan’s?” Lena asks when she sits beside Kara on the couch. “I can’t possibly eat all of this food, Kara.” 

“Uh, because they’re not for you,” she says, offering a playful scoff. “That’s your kale salad and all the good stuff is mine.”  

She grins when she catches Lena rolling her eyes at her who otherwise grabs a plastic fork and takes a healthy bite out of her salad. Kara hates the stuff, thinks it’s an abomination, but she’s happy to see her friend eating and relaxing. 

Kara etches this moment to memory. Because she likes how settled Lena is beside her as they dig into their lunch. Likes how visibly comfortable Lena looks as she asks Kara about her day so far. Likes how she nudges some other dishes Lena’s way until Lena relents, still gracious as she does so, picking at some of the food. It’s one of Kara’s favorite views, the way Lena leaves herself unguarded, her walls down, with her. 

Abruptly and without notice, something inside of Kara shifts—irreparably, irrevocably. 

She doesn’t know what she’s even said for Lena to snort in laughter, putting her food down on the coffee table to cover her mouth as giggles leak through her fingers.

Something inside of Kara slots into place, the world suddenly saturated and sharpened.

When Lena gets a handle on her laughter, her mouth still etched with the echoes of her mirth, she opens her eyes to fondly look back at Kara, grasping at her arm and squeezing. 

Kara doesn’t hear anything but the pulse of her blood rushing to her ears, and the heat of Lena’s hand on her skin suddenly scorching her. 

And Kara, hopeless and unprepared, discovers on a Tuesday afternoon that she’s maybe a little bit in love with her best friend.

[ohitsjustgen]

Miles Morales (1610) x Reader

__________________________

This is my longest story yet. Ideas just randomly come to me at 2 AM😭

_________________________

Love songs by Kaash Paige was blaring in your ears while you were doing your chemistry worksheet humming along to the lyrics. Although you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was staring at you? Eyes piercing through your skin.

You look to your right and see an unfamiliar dark skinned boy. As your eyes meet he quickly looks away looking back at his empty worksheet. You find it kinda weird that he would just be staring with no real cause. Was something on your face? Were you humming too loud? You look around to see everyone talking with their peers or working alone on their own worksheet. You look back over to where the boy is seated. He seems to be talking to his peer sitting next to him. You brush it off and proceed to work on your worksheet.

The bell suddenly alarms saying that it's time to transition to the next period. You scoot your chair back and pick up your backpack, placing your supplies inside. "Miles and Peter, can you please make your way over to my desk?" Announcing Mr. Taylor, our chemistry teacher.

You sling the backpack over your shoulder as you place your phone into your pocket and walk out of the room but not before saying "Bye Mr. T" as you always do. He calls out behind you "Bye Y/N, see ya tomorrow."

Not thinking too much about the situation that just happened, you walk to your locker to meet up with your friends Joseph and Jade

You see that they have already arrived at your locker. "Hey you guys" you say letting a smirk plaster onto your face.  "Heyyy Y/N" Jade says widening her arms for a hug. You cringe at the thoughts of hugs. "Girl, you know I don't do those." you say getting stiff. "Oh right my bad". Jade, who prefers to be called J, holds out her hand to do your "secret" handshake. Turning to Joseph you ball your fist and give him a fist bump.

You've known Joseph and J for about a year. While reading "The Hunger Games" in the library Jade came up to you with a big goofy smile blabbering about how the author is her favorite yada yada. Joseph came and apologized for her actions. After that first encounter, I knew we would've been the best of friends.

"Have you seen the new guy?" Asks Jade.

"What new guy?" You ask putting your bookbag into the locker and grab your computer, composition notebook and a mechanical pencil.

"I believe his name is Kyle?" questions Jade.

"His name is miles dumbass" Corrects Joseph

You think for a moment. "Actually I have a miles in my class"

"Was he cute?" Whispers Jade

"I dunno I didn't stay to see which one was miles" you shurg. You close your locker after getting all of your belongings.

"Ight I'll see you guys after class" says Joseph as he puts his hands in his pockets and walks off. We wave goodbye and begin to walk the opposite direction.

"So when are you going to start dating again y/n??"

While rolling your eyes, you see the same boy who was staring at you, in the hallway laughing with the guy he was sitting next to in chemistry.

"Hello??? Earth to y/n?" Jade says waving her hand in front of your face. You snap out of your trance and look at Jade. She looks at you and looks back at the boy you were just staring at.

"OoOoOoOo are you in love?"

"No" You'd state blankly walking through the halls to get to your Geometry class.

_____________________________________________________________

Once you and Jade make it to class you sit next to each other and pull out your composition notebooks and mechanical pencils.

"UGHHH I hope Mr. Smith isn't here today."

"Same girl, same" you say knowing you forgot to complete the homework he assigned last night.

And to your surprise Mr. Smith didn't arrive but a Substitute teacher did.

By the looks of it he was a tall yet lankey fair skinned male, with dreads, and peircings.

"Ello class, m' her' in replacemen' fo' Mr. Smith I reckon? Honestly I dunno one thing about Geometry so ya can do whatever"

The honestly was much appreciated. Much appreciated because Mr. Smith is the same way yet he assigns work that he can't even explain. It's frustrating to try to do the work yourself.

The dark-skinned boy from before walks into the class extremely late. He's panting maybe because he was running? He looks at our sub in shock. The curly haired boy mumbles under his breath something along the lines of "What are you doing here?!" The teacher, who we don't know the name of  yet, tells him he has it under control.

"Right I forgo' to mention, The names Hobie, otherwise known as Spider Punk"

The class laughs as he says the last part in a matter-of-a-fact tone.

"What are you? A rip off version of Spiderman?" Yells a female classmate

The rest of the class snickers at her remark. Hobie chuckles as well finding it amusing that we didn't believe him. The fair skinned boy who was running late takes a seat behind you and puts his head down groaning. You hear this and decide to confront him to make sure he's ok.

You turn around to face him.

"Rough first day?" You say leaning your head onto your knuckles.

He lifts up his head to face you.

"You have no idea"

"Names Y/N" you say with a friendly smile.

A smirk forms across the boys face "Miles"

"Oh yea and sorry about staring at you earlier..creepy I know but it was harmless I swear" he says putting his hands up defensively.

"It's alright I didn't think nun of it anyway" you say chuckling

J leans and whispers something into your ear

"I'll leave you two love birds alone"

You playfully hit the fair skinned girl as she gets up from her seat and sits next to her other peer she knew in this class.

LOVE. FEAT. ZACARI. by Kendrick Lamar and Zacari began to play.

Surprisingly your Beats headphones were loud enough that the boy heard it himself.

"Oh you like Kendrick Lamar too?" Asks the boy

"Oh uhm yea. He's a good artist. Who do you listen to?" You ask wanting to know more about him.

"More along the lines of Kendrick Lamar, Frank Ocean, Russ, YK Osiris, Vedo. Those types of artists." He says while counting the artists on his fingers.

"I only know 2 of those artists" you say chuckling

"Dang, you're really missing out" he says pulling out his phone to show the songs he recommends

You guys exchange playlists and point out the songs you know and don't. Suddenly the bell rings alarming you that it's time for lunch.

"Need someone to sit next to?" You ask getting up from your chair

"Yea that would be nice" Miles says doing the same

___________________________________________

While grabbing an apple and putting it into your tray you turn to miles to ask more questions.

"Batman or Superman?"

"Batman, I like to keep my identity secret AND I'm a night owl"

You nod in response

"Catwoman or Wonder woman"

"Catwoman, nothing specific I just like her costume" you say shrugging

You usher the boy to your usual spot in the cafeteria.  While placing your tray down you point to your friends to give introductions.

"Jade this is Miles, Miles Jade, Joseph Miles, Miles Joseph"

They exchange glances and waves as the two of you sit down.

______________________________________________________

A/N: If I get at least 40ish likes on this story I'll do a part 2

[dreamtofus]

Hey guys, I'm taking requests in the order received; I'll write them all. Keep piling them on (you can either comment or use the built-in Tumblr ask!). Let me know if you prefer the first or second person. (Also the format is weird asf bc I had to transfer it from a different writing app)

Oh my fucking god this took me forever to write I had so much homework. It’s slightly rushed and OOC but for my first fic I don’t think it’s half bad… Give me any requests, suggestions, or criticism :)

Prompt/Summary: Daryl is dominant and tries seducing you into having sex. You're in a building, trying to scavenge for supplies with the others. He tries to find the time to take you in. Daryl can't let the zombies or the others hear.

Warnings: female receiving oral, nsfw, pet name (bunny), slight praise, NOTTT PROOF READ.

Word Count: 1,189 (almost 2k)

You clutch the crisp leather as the wind blows through your tawny matted hair. Raised stitches rub you, face pressed against his back. You'd never have much physical interaction with Daryl, but at the speed, he was going, it was just instinct. Daryl’s motorcycle comes to a slow halt, softly jerking you.

“we’re ‘ere." Mumbled the sweaty man, shutting off his motorcycle, waiting for you to dismount.

You delicately swing your leg over, with slight trouble from a slightly sore leg. He hops off right after you. In front of it lies a small plaza with a few shops on one side of the road and a few shops on the other. A small buggy car pulls up next to you, with Glenn and Maggie climbing out. After a swift mutual conversation, you guys decide you and Daryl will take the left side while Glenn and Maggie take the right, meeting up in three hours.

The occasional walker scatters the parking lot, and there are a few inside walkers in the stores—nothing Daryl’s crossbow and you can’t handle. There are a few crashed cars in the lot. Keeping quiet, Daryl and I exchange a few glances of silence. You nod as you peer inside a red car, scanning for anything.

Opening the car door, you pull a small photo wedged in between the car sheets. The photo is blood-splattered and features two pretty young girls holding each other in a posed hug. You pocket it, even if it's for no one you know or care about; it’s nice to have a little reminder of everything. Daryl grunts in disapproval, and you notice he’s been watching you. Scowling at him, you continue walking with him and approach what looks to be a small grocery store. It looks devoid of anything valuable.

Trying to find anything, you burst through the doors, not thinking much about it. You choose your aisle as you approach the deli section. Slamming on the floor and tripping over your feet as a walker approaches you. This gains the attention of about five other starving walkers. Pushing the walker off, you sprint away and call for Daryl. He's immediately by your side to rush to safety. Making your way into what was once the backrooms of the store, you slam the door behind you.

Daryl leans against the wall and observes the surrounding room. It was cramped with a fire escape at the back. You look back down at your ankle which was turning a slight blue hue. Wincing in pain you sit next to Daryl.

“Let's get outta ‘ere...” Daryl grumbles.

Before he could take a stand you grabbed his wrist and silently whimpered a no. Daryl glances at you with concern as he fixes himself in front of your foot, in between your legs. With a slight gasp, you let him struggle to roll up your baggy jeans.

He glances up and grumbles frustratingly. He looks up once more and places his hands on the button of your jeans, waiting for approval. Once you willingly nod at him, he drags them down, revealing your slightly bruised ankle.

“Nun yer won't recover from. We'll take ‘rest.” He nods at you, placing his hands accidentally on your thighs.

You gasp at his calloused hands, your thighs grow with heat. Daryl pushes himself up and signals you to stay while he scouts the fire escape further in the back.

Unable to contain yourself at the thought of being bottomless in front of Daryl, you reach through your soaked cotton panties. Stifling your moans with your wrist, you place your hand between your legs and get to work. As you're about to climax Daryl walks in, you swiftly remove your fingers and meet his gaze. He gives you a skeptical look and notices your flushed face, unable to pinpoint the cause.

“So did you find a way out?” You mustered the best neutral voice you can.

He only glanced at you for a response before identifying the elephant in the room, “What’s got yer face all fucked?”

You murmur a quiet “nothing” before hastily standing up and attempting to tug your jeans back on.

His hand stops yours and he meets your eyes, “yer bit?”

“N-no.” You can't help but stutter at the closing gap between you, and the soaking shame between your legs.

Daryl pins you down with one hand and starts scanning you. You stop resisting and let yourself go limp, letting your pants rest slightly above your knees. Starting at your collar bones he makes his way to your stomach, feeling it for the cause of your strange behavior. He finally gets on his knees to check your thighs. He gazes at you with a smug look.

“Well, how bout that..” He chuckles to himself, a trail of slick connect y’all together.

He places two fingers against your clothed core, mockingly checking for an injury. You let your knees buckle, thighs closing against his wrist.

“d-daryl..?” you whisper.

He shushes you in response.

His fingers slip through the sides of your underwear and rub at your entrance. He lets one finger inside and slowly pumps before pulling out. You're left in a mess of whimpers and moans, attempting to roll your hips back on his fingers. He clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Nuh-uh girl. Tell me what you want.” Daryl breathes from between your legs, the sight could kill a girl.

“I want you.” You moan as your fingers tangle into his jet-black hair.

You allow him to slip your pants completely off your legs along with your panties. He returns to his original position, centering himself between your thighs. He begins to lick around you, and suck on all of the right places. Biting your lip in the struggle to keep a loud sultry moan, you fail. The sexual noise brings a few walkers pounding on the sealed door next to you, creaking with pressure.

Daryl releases himself momentarily and snaps at you, “better-shut yer mouth before yer get us killed.”.

His knuckles clench back into your plush thighs as he gets back to work, circling your pearl gently with his tongue. You can feel a heavy knot start to build inside as he inserts a finger in you. It curls inside your gummy walls.

“Hh-hhnn...” you let out a moan muffled by your palm.

“Whas that girl?” He groans from a filled mouth.

“I-I’m so close.” You whimper behind clenched teeth.

“Let it all out for me bunny,” Daryl inserts another finger and curls it, hitting that spot. “Yeah, that's it, baby...”

You feel yourself tighten before falling into bliss. Daryl pumps you through the high and licks your cunt clean of leftover juices. Your knees wobble as he pulls your underwear and jeans back up and buttons them. He takes a stand.

“It's not so hard to be a good girl,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Not so hard at all... Keeping yourself contained while walkers pound so close to you. So good.”

He leans you into him as he leads you up the fire escape...

[samoankpoper21]

My Monster

Word count: 883

The small, spiky red haired boy watched as the older, much taller version of himself focused on putting white chocolate frosting on cupcakes that were to be served for dessert later. "Poppa?"

"Mm?

"Are Saori and I monsters?"

"What?!" Satori exclaimed as frosting shot out the canister, messing up the perfect swirl Satori was working on. "Who told you that?"

"Some kids at school told me that Saori and I are monsters because we have bright red hair, brown skin, and weird color eyes." Trying to remain calm in front of your son, Satori inhales through his nose and asks, "And what did you do after those kids told you that?"

"I roared and chased after them." Pausing for a brief second, Satori snorted and threw his head back laughing. Yup. He's most definitely my son.

"I'm hooome." Forgetting about the moment, Satoshi and Saori rushed to the doorway as a cacophony of momma filled the air. You chuckled trying to juggle with retaining what the kids were saying to you, the bags of groceries, all while slipping your shoes off. You looked up to see your handsome, goofy, husband's silhouette fill the doorway instantly causing you to smile and feel warm inside. "Hi baby."

"Hey love." Satori came forward and grabbed the bags of groceries that you were holding leaning forward to give you a kiss. You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around him wanting more until a chorus of ewws filled the room. You both began to laugh when you questioned, "Did you guys do your homework?"

"Yes momma."

"I'll get dinner started so daddy will help you wash off." You felt Satori's hand gently grab your forearm as he quietly said, "On second thought, I can do dinner tonight. You just got off of work and the kids miss you."

"Eh? Are you sure? Babe really it's no trouble. It's my turn to cook anyway."

"It's ok. I got it." He gave you a sad, soft smile before kissing your cheek and trudged toward the kitchen. All these years of being with him you automatically knew that when something was bothering Satori he needed to keep his hands moving. You peered down at your son and daughter with their bright red hair and melanated skin both confused as to what just happened. You clapped your hands to grab their attention and shouted, "Who's ready for a bubble bath!!" Saori squealed and ran away while Satoshi, his mind forever wandering and processing, slowly made his way to the bathroom to prepare for bath time.

Dinner and bed time went down surprisingly smooth. You flopped down on the bed after your shower both of you heaving a sigh of relief. Satori instantly wrapped his arms around you, kissing the back of your neck, pulling you closer to his bare chest. "Satori?"

"Baby, did you think I was a monster when we first started dating?"

"What?" you turned over to look at your husband, confused as to where this question was coming from. Satori had this distant look in his eyes as he continued. "I'm just sayin'."

"I didn't think you were a monster per se but I did find it odd that you wanted to date me out of all the girls you used to be surrounded by."

"Those girls didn't like me. They were using me to get closer to Ushijima-kun." A beat of silence passed as you sat up staring at your husband, noting the hint of sadness in his eyes. "My love," you ask. "Where is this coming from?" Satori finally peered up, pushed himself to sit up alongside you and say, "Some of the kids in Satoshi's class called he and Saori monsters."

"WHAT?!?!! Oh hell no! Do I have to kick some kid's ass!?!?!?!" Seeing how riled up you were, Satori couldn't help but laugh his signature laugh. He wrapped you in his arms, trapping you between his legs, his bare chest against your back trying to get you to calm down. "I don't know who the fuck they think they are calling MY FAMILY monsters." Satori chuckled telling you, "Shush you're going to wake the kids."

"You're the one with the hyena laugh." He stifled his laughter as he wrapped his long arms tighter around you. Words alone couldn't describe how much he loved you, how he was so grateful that you were his and wanted him and him alone. He peppered kisses on the back of your neck, behind your ear until he felt your breathing evening out. "You were triggered when Satoshi told you that huh?"

"A little." You turned so that you were facing him, grabbed his face and say, "You're not a monster. Kids and people put a negative label on those that are different. And, as twisted as this may sound, even if you are a monster, you're my monster; and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world." Satori smiled, leaned forward with his eyes closed gently bumping your foreheard. "I love you." he whispered.

"I love you too." You kissed him, Satori soon finding himself laying flat on his back, you hovering over him with your hands on the headboard. He cocked his eyebrow as you breathlessly say, "Let me show my monster some lovin'."

Author's Note: GAWD THIS ENDING IS SO CRINGE 😂🥲🫣 ASDJDAKDSLKAD Anyway hope y'all enjoyed this 🥲🙃🤣

[damagedintellect]

Kenny McCormick x reader

💌 As Long As I can Remember: Chapter 3  💌  

Summary:  You moved to south park in the 4th grade. You weren't expecting what came next. After seven years of friendship you were about to make a move but what happens when Cartman's OTP gets in the way of what you desire most.

Notes:  Overall Kenny x reader but also some Craig x reader, I wrote this over a decade ago but I'm feeling nostolgic, this was written for a friend a long time ago

💌 Word count: 1,855 💌  <= Previous | Chapter 4 =>

The next morning Kyle and Stan stood at the bus stop, talking about who knows what. You weren't paying attention. You showed up with the widest grin on your face. “Sup guys”

Kyle and Stan looked up at you “Nothing, Kyle's just mad that I didn’t do my homework.” Stan rolled his eyes while Kyle looks straight up pissed at his bestie. Kyle practically growled foaming at the mouth a little. “It’s not because you didn’t do your homework, it’s because I didn’t finish mine!” They continued to argue over whose fault it was when Cartman and Kenny showed up. Cartman scoffed “calm down you fucken jew”

“Shut the fuck up you fucking fat ass!” Kyle was already in a mood he didn't need this on top of it. Stan just stared at the redhead and sighed “Kyle you do know that the more you react, the more he’s just going to do it right?” Kyle crossed his arms and muttered to himself “Yeah well he’s still a fat ass.” Stan just rolls his eyes wanting to change the subject. When he was met with silence he huffed. Does he have to do everything around here? He looked over to you. “So (Y/N) did you pick a song for the talent show?”

Perking up you go digging through your bag and pull out the CD carefully placed in a case that read ‘(Y/N)’s song’ in big bold black sharpie. You held it up waving it around so everyone got a good look at it. “I sure did and it’s the best song in the world! I just have to make sure no one else sings it.” You peer at Cartman who was practically drooling as the bus pulled up. Now he just needs to take the bait and you're golden. Stan got on the bus first ditching you guys to sit next to Wendy. You sat by Kyle and Kenny sat by Cartman who sat in the aisle seat just like you.

Kyle noticed you were still staring at the CD “(Y/N) you should probably put that away before you loose it.”

“There’s no way I’ll loose it but yeah I probably should.” Continuing to look at Kyle you slip the CD into your bag in a way that it slips out and ends up on the floor instead. Kyle looks at you concerned while you were still staring at him. “You’re acting strange. Are you okay?”

You just giggle “No I’m not! I mean I'm fine. Just excited for school is all.” You curse yourself, at this point you might blow your cover.

 Cartman was still staring at you when you tried to put the CD away, watching as it slipped out and on the floor right in front of his feet. What luck! Catman glanced over at Kenny before he swiftly picked it up making sure the blond was still preoccupied with the window. You were still talking to Kyle so this was the perfect opportunity to steal it for himself. Whistling like nothing happened he shove the golden ticket into his bag, thinking to himself "This will be the end of (Y/N). Oh how glorious it will be to watch her fall, now what to do with a slave."

 The rest of the morning was uneventful, almost eerily so. You were at your locker, switching out your books for the next class and when you closed your locker you were met with a smug look and an emotionless face “Hey (shorter version of your name because that’s how Clyde rolls) sup.”

“Holy Shit!” He was too close. You jumped back and dropped all the books “What do you want Clyde?” You sighed and bent down to pick them up. That was when your hand met another’s and your eyes met a pair of lovely deep blue ones. A light pink tint crept it’s way to Craig’s cheeks while yours were flushed red. You retracted your hand as he gave you the last book. Out of the guys you were told to avoid, Craig was at the top of the list although you didn’t know why. It was something that Stan tried to enforce but then realized he couldn’t force you to ignore his presence. Not that Craig has much presence. He’s pretty quiet and keeps to himself for the most part but something about the lone wolf energy makes him cute in your eyes.

Clyde cleared his throat to regain your attention. “It’s about Cartman”

You rolled your eyes. Of course it was. "And?" You wanted him to get to the point.

Your one word answer caught him off guard as he fumbled over his words. “Well you’re still fairly new here so you might not know how big of an Asshole Cartman is.”

It was true but Kyle had been trying his damndest to catch you up to speed. “Yeah didn’t he like kill someone’s parents and feed them to the kid?”

Clyde paused. We wasn’t expecting you to know that. “Uh, yeah” things went silent. This is not how he planed this talk to go.

You waved your hand around and started walking away. “I’ll be fine.~”

His face was priceless as you brushed him off. He tried regaining his composure. “That’s the spirit I actually just came over here to motivate you to kick his ass because everyone is making bets!”

That stooped you in your tracks. You turned so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. “WHAT?!” you suddenly dropped all of the books in your arms again and release a frustrated sigh as you picked them up again this time both Clyde and Craig helped you. seriously why did you have so many books to carry around. 

“Yeah ever since yesterday you’ve been the talk of the school.” 

Dusting off a few of the books you looked around and lo and behold everyone was staring and whispering to each other. You just smile with pride “Well, I guess I need to put on one hell of a show right?” 

Clyde smiles and nods giving you a thumbs up as Craig just leans forward meeting you eye to eye. One word. "Safe.”

 It was the only thing he said as he walked away without Clyde. “Hey wait up Craig, goodbye (Y/N)” he waved and tried to catch up with his best friend. Kyle walked up behind you as you pinched the bridge of your nose “What was that all about?”

“That last bit? Honestly I have no idea, let’s just get lunch.”

 During Lunch you played with your food. One word “safe” and whatever the hell he was mumbling but what did it mean. You glanced over to Craig, what was he thinking under that emotionless face of his. His eyes are so cold; it’s like he’s bored and doesn’t bother to do anything. Is that why he told you not to hang around Stan’s gang because they actually do things and get into crazy situations, but then does he want to do things or is he irritated that they do things and he just wants things to be peaceful. You stabbed your fork into the chicken on your plate and let out a frustrated groan.

“What’s up with her?” Stan said more to Kyle than anyone else on the table; they both looked at you while you were still dazed looking at Craig. “She said she didn’t know but I’m guessing it has to do with Craig” Kyle followed your line of sight to meet Craig’s cold eyes which sent shivers down both of your spines and you snap out of your concentrated state.

“Just what’s his deal? First he flips me off, tells me not to hang around you guys and then, safe.” You waved your fork around for emphasis.

The super best friends look at each other and shrug “Safe?”

“Trust me I don’t get it any more than you do.”

“Maybe he’s trying to trip you up so you don’t do well tomorrow.” Kenny looked over to Craig then back to you before adding “Could be because of all the bets against you.” You nod while Stan and Kyle’s eyes widen “People are making bets?!” 

You casually sipped your milk not that surprised anymore. “Yeah and apparently Clyde is betting that I will win.”

“Really!” Kyle shouted

“Yeah I find it kind of funny how it’s actually become such a big thing.” Back home you were never the center of attention. It felt bizarre.

“Nah you get used to that feeling after a while especially if it involves Cartman in any way.” Stan comments and everyone agrees. Kenny looked up from whatever it was he was doing only now noticing that Cartman isn't even here “Speaking of Cartman before I got here I saw him with Jimmy, he was helping him hit on a girl.”

“huh”was all anyone said on that matter. You all continued eating lunch until Wendy and her blond friend walked up to the table. “Hi Stan do you guys mine if we borrow (Y/N) for a moment.” You kind of just quirk an eyebrow and point at yourself “You want to borrow me for a moment? Why?” The girls grabbed both of your arms and just dragged you out of the cafeteria.

“Guys help meeeeeeee!” 

Kyle, Kenny and Stan know better to get in Wendy’s way so they just smile awkwardly and wave you off. As so as you were taken into the hallway Wendy smiled “Okay so I know we don’t really talk but I am Stan’s girlfriend and you are one of Stan’s friends. We want to help you for tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to seem rude but I don’t think I need help.” 

Bebe laughed at you “Really? Have you looked in a mirror, honey you need as much help as you can get-” Wendy lightly punched her friend in the arm “Rumor is going around that you’re going to be doing something big right. All we’re trying to say is part of the talent show’s judging is based on your costume.” She trailed off and the both looked at you. Wendy cleared her throat before speaking again.

“We feel that your look needs something more if you’re going to even think about winning tomorrow night.” You couldn’t help but laugh “Guys this is just my everyday attire, I didn’t plan on wearing something like this tomorrow night I already picked out a dress.” Wrong words, you should have kept your big mouth shut.

“We want to see! If it meets our standards we’ll stop bothering you, but if it doesn’t we’re taking you shopping!”

 After class you didn't leave your seat instead you slammed your head down and felt someone poke your arm. You shift just enough to see Kenny "(Y/N) we're all going to Stan's to play games you wanna come?"

"I want to but Wendy and Bebe plan on kidnapping me right about now so I can't." You saw them in the doorway with the biggest smiles you've ever seen. They were kinda creeping you out.

[saving-ray-23]

BATGIRL (THREE)

The visit to Wayne Manor had gone well. Surprisingly well. She had left right before dinner, dropped off by Alfred despite her insistence that the bus station wasn't even far. They had asked her to stay, but Babs didn't want to risk overstaying her welcome. Instead, for dinner she had microwavable ramen and some Japanese energy drink that tasted like kelp. It wasn't the worst meal she had, but the snacks at Wayne Manor had spoiled her slightly in the past few hours, creating a small pit of regret in her gut.

The rest of the weekend was rather uneventful compared to her Friday with Dick Grayson. She tried her best to forget about the whole experience, doing her best to move on. To stop hoping that it would happen again. Because Babs wasn't about to make that mistake. Not after what happened last time she called someone friend.

__

It was Tuesday night and practice had been canceled because of the storm thundering all school day. Barbara was home before four and only started working on her homework an hour later, annoyed with the mere thought of more math problems to solve. She was good at math, but damn it was boring. Babs phone rang loudly as she chewed on her pencil, distracting her from staring at her calc homework. Stumbling over a forgotten shoe, she grabbed her phone off her bed before the second ring.

"This better be good." She breathed sarcastically, expecting her cousin to respond.

Instead, Dick Grayson's muffled snort rang through the phone, making her trip and nearly tip over her desk. "Detective Gordon, thank God. I have to report a crime— known criminal Jason Todd has stolen my favorite shirt."

Swallowing, she let herself play along. "Shit. I'll post an APB— maybe an Amber Alert. Tell me, Mr. Grayson, would you like to press charges?"

"Punish him to the fullest extent of the law. He's a wild animal, I tell you."

Babs couldn't help but giggle. "I'll put my best detectives on the case."

"That simply won't do, Detective. I must insist you come to Wayne Manor post hence."

"I think it's posthaste."

"Really? I always— agh, Jason!"

A thud rang from the other end of the phone, followed by a loud shout and what sounded suspiciously like "B said you're only allowed to bite pedos!"

Barbara laughed loudly, returning to sit on her desk chair and spinning as she waited for the commotion to end.

"Detective Gordon, the situation is escalating— he's taken my backpack hostage. I can't do my homework now!"

"What an utter travesty." She deadpanned, glaring at her own homework taunting her from the desk.

"Detective, I beg of you— come save this damsel in distress!"

She huffed, wondering if he was still joking around. "For real?"

"The realest, Detective. I'm making a citizen's arrest!"

"I'm half an hour away, Dick." She reminded, shaking her head. "And I'm pretty sure neither of us has a license— "

"Look outside your window."

Choking on air, Barbara peered through the window, eyes going wide as she saw the black car parked outside her house. And through the driver's seat, Alfred Pennyworth himself waved.

"Uh . . . I guess I'm on my way?" She finally said, unsure of herself.

"Thank God! See you in thirty-five minutes, Detective Gordon!"

__

"You don't even like Wonder Woman!" Babs heard as she walked into the foyer closest to the front entrance.

The place was a mess. A lamp was knocked over, but thankfully not broken, while more furniture surrounded it upturned or pushed against the bookshelves. Dick squared off with what seemed to be a middle-school aged boy, the latter glaring harshly. Dick, on the other hand, looked like he was fighting back a grin.

Spotting her in the doorway, Dick flat-out grinned, grabbing the child in a loose chokehold. "Detective, thank God! There's been an assault on top of the theft!"

"You said you were calling Gordon!" The younger boy yelped, wriggling in the hold and pouting. "Not some girl."

"Barbara Gordon, at your service." She introduced, trying her best not to laugh. "Jason Todd, I presume?"

Moving, and therefore dragging Jason with him, Dick met her in the middle of the room, still smiling. "This is the little thief!"

Peering down at Dick's adoptive brother, Barbara let herself wink at Jason before imitating the serious expression the Commissioner always had on. "The only criminal I see is you, Richard Grayson."

"Huh?" Jason squinted up at her, while the smile dropped comically from Dick's face.

"I'm an angel!" Dick exclaimed, dropping his brother in the process.

"Richard Grayson, you're wanted in seventeen states." She joked, placing a hesitant hand on Jason's shoulder. "Parkour without a permit, badgering an officer of the law— "

"I've never so much as done a somersault— "

"Lying under oath— " She added, glancing at Dick's brother. "Anything to add, agent Todd?"

"Agent?" Dick dramatically shouted, faking a confused expression.

"That's right— Agent Jason Todd, bitch!" The kid shouted, jumping on one of the only upright pieces of furniture, a heavy-looking couch. The Wonder Woman shirt he wore nearly fell to his knees and red shorts peeked out from underneath, flapping with his other attire as he laughed.

"Swear jar!" Dick shouted, laughing. "I'm telling Bruce!"

"Then I'm telling him about what really happened to the roses!"

The two glared, before Dick sighed. Loudly.

"Truce?"

Instead, of answering, the younger ran from the room, his footsteps echoing through the Manor. Dick looked at Barbara sheepishly, hand running through his hair. "Care to give me an assist, Detective?"

"I don't typically work with criminals . . . " She fought the urge to smile. "However, in exchange for one of those sick Wonder Woman tees, I might be willing to cut a deal."

The two grinned at each other before moving towards the closest couch, setting it upright with an embarrassing struggle.

"So," She began, fixing the lamp. "That's your little brother, huh?"

"As of two months ago." He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "He's a pain ninety-eight percent of the time."

"And the other two?"

"He's . . . alright. For an twelve-year-old, at least."

Babs suddenly felt very old, thinking of Jason Todd running through the halls in his brother's shirt, probably causing trouble. She remembered being twelve; back then, she still slept in her uncle's tee-shirts and kept at least two stuffed animals with her every night. And while she swore she still had some old toys stashed away in the attic, she had long ago bought her own pajamas to sleep in. Posters covered the bright purple walls she loved when she was nine and all the books the Commissioner would read to her before bed had been replaced by mystery novels and notebooks that were a step from falling apart.

"Earth to Barbara— "

Blinking, Barbara came back to reality. "Sorry, I was just . . . "

"Thinking about how awesome I am?" He joked, righting the last piece of wronged furniture.

"Wondering if I left the stove on."

"Did you?"

She shrugged, awkward. "Probably."

"Well," He boomed, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "I think we've earned a movie marathon, Detective."

"Disney or Pixar?" She asked as they walked.

He snorted, shaking his head. "Is that even a question?"

[notti-stellate]

Little Miss Popular Part two

The school day passed by fairly quickly, with only a few snide comments from Jason. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't slightly dreading the Hellfire meeting tonight. If I was being completely honest I didn't know the first thing about dnd, I had a bunch of homework, and I was not up to pretending to care about whatever it was they talk about during the meetings. I only said yes because Eddie looked so happy and I didn't want to disappoint him. Regardless, I had told him I would be there so I needed to be.

I walked towards my locker to cram my english textbook in my bag. As I opened my locker I heard laughter coming from down the hall, when I peaked over my shoulder I saw Jason and his friends surrounding my brother and his friends. That's when I heard the yelling.

"Hey dweeb, where's your freak show leader" Jason laughed, I was so over all the snide comments and full blown torment that the boys had to go through.

"Hey Carver" I shouted, walking in front of Dustin and Mike "why don't you pick on someone your own size."

"Stay out of this sweetheart, we wouldn't want you to ruin that pretty face of yours" Jason said condescendingly. Next thing I knew my fist was colliding with his nose.

"You're insane!" Jason screamed, holding his nose to try to stop the bleeding.

"Leave Eddie and Dustin alone!"

"Y/n, Jason, my office now!" The principal called over the PA system.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're in, Ms. Henderson."

"Pretty much" I mumbled, holding my throbbing hand. Of course, all Jason got was a slap on the wrist for bullying Dustin then was sent on his way.

"I cannot have my students punching each other in the middle of the hallway," He peered at me over his glasses "you have a 3 day suspension and detention when you return."

"Can I go now?" I sighed, grabbing my bag when he motioned towards the door. When I got out of the office I saw Eddie sitting against the wall, doing god-knows-what.

"Eddie, what are you doing here?" I asked surprised

"I heard what you did for me and Dustin," Eddie smiled, standing up and wrapping me in a hug "you didn't have to do that ya know."

"Please, it was time for someone to him in his place." I laughed quietly, my heart racing with each second we were together. "It was pretty cool though, even if it feels like my hand is gonna fall off."

"Come on, I'll take you back to my place and we can ice your hand" he chuckled grabbing both our bags and walking towards the exit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hissed in pain as Eddie placed the old bag of peas on my hand.

"'m sorry" he mumbled, sitting next to me on the old couch. I smiled slightly at his sweetness. I had never seen this soft, caring side of Eddie before, it made me feel warm inside. I leaned my head on his shoulder and wished i could stay in this moment forever.

"y/n," Eddie spoke hesitantly, I lifted my head up, curious as to what would make his so nervous, "I-I um, Jesus, I like you y/n. Like really like you, I have for a while now actually, god this is really hard." he laughed. That was all I needed before pressing our lips together. Eddie hesitated before kissing back, our lips moved in sync, almost as if they were made to fit together.

It felt like time stopped as we pulled away, gasping for air. I just couldn't stop thinking about how he felt the same, finally after all these years he finally loved me too.

"I take it you feel the same." Eddie laughed, smiling like he won a million dollars. He leaned forward and pressed our lips together again.

He's mine. Eddie freaking Munson is finally mine.

[oh-katsuki]

okay so it’s late and this is super off topic for my blog but… I’m thinking about the teachers I’ve come across in my life that genuinely.. had grudges against me.

I mean… professional educators who went to school to learn how to teach, holding personal grudges against a third grader. how awful is that? how does that happen?

I’m sitting here thinking about two particular teachers, the first being my third grade teacher who treated me so poorly. he consistently picked on me in class and would get upset with me for asking questions during our math lessons. I feel so indignant because what did I, as a child in the classroom to learn, do to deserve that type of anger from a 30 something year old man?

I’m thinking about how a grown adult can look at a child and justify being foul and sour to them, to the point that it made me believe that I was just… not capable of doing math like the other students were. his insults, unwillingness to be patient, and expectation for me to fail was so obvious to me as a child that I carried the belief with me that’d I’d never be good at math through my adult life. I still think I’m incapable of doing math properly. Because of him. I genuinely cannot help but think how my life would be different had he not made the choice, as an adult, to pick on me about my math skills to the point that my parents noticed. it is the reason I don’t like math. it’s the reason I didn’t do WELL in math as a young child. because this particular teacher made me feel not as if I needed extra help… but as if I were incapable because he decided he didn’t like me.

another was my fifth grade teacher. a fifty year old woman who made it so obvious that she didn’t like me that other students didn’t want to sit in the same desk group as me. constantly picked on me for talking when I wasn’t and actively discouraged me from reading in the classroom.

when I found that I wasn’t good at math, I developed a deep appreciation for reading and would read in my free time at school. in her class, I would sit in the classroom during recess (because we had the option to) and read books I’d checked out from the library because… reading was something I could understand and something I knew I was good at.

when the bell would ring, if I didn’t snap my book shut immediately, I would be yelled at and have the book taken from me for the remainder of the day. this happened even if my classmates were still coming in from the yard. I would finish assignments early and pull out a free reading book, only for this educator to snap at me and tell me I wasn’t allowed to until I’d finished my assignment (despite the fact that I had). I remember feeling so humiliated and picked on by this woman who was supposed to foster that love for reading and education. instead, what was once her snapping at me only for me to correct her that I had finished the assigned became her asking if I had completed all my homework for the week. what was once a free reading period in class became a homework period for me specifically.

I remember feeling awful in class to the point that I stopped reading books entirely out of a fear of being picked on. I’ve been a well behaved kid most of my life, I have ADHD which affects my focus (undiagnosed at the time), but I would complete my class work. I remember feeling so defeated because I already felt I was incapable of succeeding in math and now, I felt afraid to read in an environment meant for that. after leaving that class, I never picked up reading as a hobby again. not until I was a senior in high school and had an English teacher who I particularly appreciated.

this is all just a long winded way of me saying that my life… my interests… my own self confidence in my capabilities would have been different had I had educators who understood what it meant to be an educator of young children. it’s incredibly odd to me that students as young as 10 can say “my teacher hates me” without adults raising an eyebrow. why is it okay for a grown adult to pick on a child in the classroom that way? why has it been so normalized for grown adults to take their anger out on the youth in their classrooms?

children are not perfect. children are not machines. they require patience and time and care and repetition. the fact that the some educators in my life didn’t understand or respect that, yet they are still educators, and as a result my future and my confidence in my skills into adulthood were affected… is a disservice. normalize empathy in classrooms for children over 8. normalize understanding that to be a teacher means you can’t hold a grudge against a fucking child because they can’t pick concepts up as quickly as you can.

[rae-writes]

punishment

om brothers x poly!reader (+ solomon)

wc : 1.k

warnings : nsfw

synopsis : you finally lose your patience with the brothers and decide a nice punishment is in order

a/n : no one talk to me about how ridiculously long this took to finish

Part 2

You stared down at your soggy homework with a blank face. Every single page, pages you spent countless sleepless nights completing, were now ruined; sopping wet, illegible, and falling apart. Your eyes slowly peered up at the seven demons responsible.

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. Mammon’s face went pale. Levi seemed like he was about to cry. Satan gulped loudly, feeling your silent rage rising. Asmo was sweating bullets. Beel looked like a kicked puppy. Belphie appeared disinterested but his hands were visibly trembling. 

“W-we’ll r-redo it for ya, Mc! P-promise! Right guys?!” Mammon gave a wobbly smile when the rest of his brothers agreed.

Giving a wry smile back, you stood from your crouched position. “Yes. You will. But I don’t think that’s enough for me.” Your head tilted in mock thought, “You’ve all been ridiculously rowdy as of late, and this was my last straw. The seven of you need to be punished and I-”

Chills ran down their spines; they didn’t like your excited tone. 

“-have the perfect idea.” You smiled cheerfully, taking out your D.D.D. “Lucifer, make sure they all stay put, I need to make a quick call.”

“Me?”

“Of course. I can trust in you not to disobey me, yes?”

Lucifer stiffened, “We will all be here when you get back.” 

“Good.” Spinning around, you skipped to the entrance hall, far enough so the brothers couldn’t listen in. You tapped on your phone, clicking the call button. 

“Hello?”

“Hi Solomon! I have a bit of a…crude favor to ask. Are you free right now?”

-

As Lucifer said, they were all right where you left them. They looked up, ready to start begging for forgiveness, when their mouths dropped. “SOLOMON?!”

The sorcerer smiled, “Hello. I hear you’ve made Mc very upset.” His eyes gleamed when your arms wrapped around his waist. “I’m here to help with their delightfully thought out punishment.” 

“Go sit over there, boys. Beel, Lucifer, and Satan on the couch. Mammon, Levi, Belphie, and Asmo on the floor in front.” Your eyes followed them like a predator as they did what you said, even without the pacts. “Thank you. Now…stay there.”

They gasped, feeling their bodies obey. All of them were practically glued to where they sat- they couldn't get up if they tried. Most of them were actually curious and excited as to where this was going. Not that they’d admit it, of course.

Though the hint of excitement dulled as they watched you settle yourself on Solomon’s lap, eyeing the way your hands trailed over the sorcerer’s chest and shoulders. This was fine. This was totally fine- they could handle this, right? 

Almost like you could hear their thoughts, your hips began to rock back and forth, lips parting in moans and whimpers that made the brothers struggle against their pacts. They spat out quiet curses while you continued to ride Solomon’s thigh, uncaring of the 7 demons in the room.

“Don’t avert your eyes. Mc would be offended if you didn’t watch our show.”

Lucifer is fucking livid, but he’s silent about it. No one hears a peep out of him the entire time. His red hues are trained on the way your back arches, lips pulling into a snarl because your face is hidden in Solomon’s neck. So help him, when he gets released from your order, Lucifer is going to destroy you in a way you won’t even remember any name but his. His temper rises every second- he’s mad about what’s happening in front of him just out of reach and he’s mad about getting mad because he should have more composure than this, goddamnit! But he throws all those thoughts out of the window when you tilt your head to the side and stare him directly in the eyes because fuck you’re cumming but you’re cumming on someone who isn’t fucking him and fuck he’s releasing the most primal growl he’s ever made when you have the audacity to grin at him afterwards

Mammon is having a fucking conniption and an aneurysm at the same time; he’s yellin and screamin and cursin, but if you listen close enough, you can hear him whinin. This is so unfair! He’s your first man! What the fuck are you doing on Solomon’s lap?! He said he was sorry! Isn’t he your favorite? Wouldn’t ya rather be on his lap? He swears he can make you feel so fucking good- please? Mammon quiets down when you scold him, blue eyes shinin because your attention is finally on him. He’s a noddin and agreein to everything you say happily, almost like a dog, but when you cum, he watches your eyes flit over to Lucifer- away from him- and now he’s cryin out, babbling angrily while he thrashes in his seat, eager to be released so he can get a hold of you and mark ya as his again

Levi is sobbing— short breathed cries and stuttered words slurring together as he pleads. He swears he had nothing to do with your ruined homework, it was all Mammon’s fault! His tail is thumping on the floor urgently, begging for your attention, and he nearly combusts when you finally focus your lidded eyes on him. Levi fucking keens at your soft words as you begin reassuring him that he’s a good boy and he’ll be rewarded if he just waits out the punishments patiently. Now he’s just writhing around, trying his best to keep the envy laced complaints to himself because he’s your good boy- he is!- but fuck he can’t help but whine when you cum without a single ounce of attention on him

Satan is rather composed; straight faced with an unwavering tone. His sharp gaze scanned over every inch of your body meticulously— for a second it seemed like he’d be- ironically- the only calm one of the seven. That is, until you fleetingly mentioned him behaving like a certain someone. Then he was snarling and growling and spitting out empty threats. So help him when he gets out of this fucking pact- Satan’s mouth snaps shut when you let out a teasing mewl, cheeks blistering red as his rage boils down to a simmer. It only lasted for a moment, though, before he was lashing out with his tail when you flitted your eyes over to Lucifer as you came

Asmo is torn between wanting to moan alongside you at seeing one of his fantasies coming to life or to cry at being left out on something he’d suggested. The fifth born is so conflicted it hurts! His hips are bucking up into nothing and his eyes are lidded- Asmo won’t close them, though, especially not when Solomon starts to moan too. He can feel the mascara dripping down his cheeks that flush red when you coo at him. It feels like his body is on fire when you start to sweetly degrade him, eyes rolling white when you suggest he joins the two of you; your pact hasn’t been released, so when he stupidly tries to crawl towards you, he sobs prettily at the restraint and misses out on watching you cum

Beel is quiet, like usual. It’s not like Lucifer or Satan’s angry kind of quiet; the sixth born is just observing. Darkened purple eyes trailing from place to place— eyeing the way your mouth parts, the way your hips start to stutter, the way your hands shake ever so slightly. Beel’s voice comes out as a deep rumble; soft, rich, and inquisitive. He’ll ask if it feels good, if you like riding your friend’s thigh, if you get off on making them suffer and watch. His eyes will flash when you send him a smirk and his stomach will rumble when you loll your tongue out just for him; he’s not hungry for food, though. He’s hungry to taste the orgasm that rips through you, so hungry in fact, he’s letting out a growl in displeasure when Solomon gets to feel your legs tremble instead

Belphie is throwing a temper tantrum the second your hips start moving over Solomon’s thigh. He’s snarling and growling and cursing louder than even Mammon. You are fucking his and you should be on his fucking lap- not that stupid sorcerer’s! He already has to share with his brothers, he is not about to share with Solomon. Belphie’s eyes nearly narrowed into slits when you moan out his name teasingly, body thrashing against the invisible restraints keeping him on the floor. Unlike Lucifer, he’s audibly warning you that if you don’t get the fuck off of Solomon’s lap right now, you better hope that you can run fast because as soon as he’s released from this fucking bind, he’ll make sure you can’t walk after he’s done with you. Right before you cum, Belphie lets out a menacing ‘don’t you fucking dare’ but ends up whining because you looked at Lucifer when you came and not him

A trail of kisses are placed down the expanse of your neck, hands moving from your hips to your waist, “So pretty, Mc. You look like an angel when you cum~” Solomon’s grin is nothing short of wicked as his eyes bore into the brothers’ from over your shoulder. 

It makes you giggle and turn your head so you can glance over each demon. Humming, you make a show of pretending to think, before you shakily get up from Sol’s thigh and face them, “Have you learnt your lesson? The looks on your faces tell me you did.”

Lucifer is glowering in a way that if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under. Mammon is still straining against the pact but his eyes are wild as they scan over you. Levi is whimpering and nodding, begging for you to release his binds, and keening when you coo at him. Satan appears calm but you can see the raging fire in his eyes as he bares his teeth. Asmo is a hot mess with his mascara running down his face, pleading to be released. Beel looks indifferent as he whines for food, but you know he’s actually whining for you. Belphie is also thrashing against his pact as he whines and cries, trying to play the ‘youngest’ card to get released first. 

You mirror Solomon’s sly smile, “Don’t do it again.”

The brothers feel the pact command release, sending a few of them tumbling forward. All seven of them are rushing to their feet, but when they look up, both you and the sorcerer are gone and the only thing they can do is follow your laughter throughout the house until they finally catch you.

[shawnxstyles]

her alert!

DATE: OCTOBER 11, 2022

summary: y/n finally notices peter after all this time in english class.

requested: yess

song: Nervous- shawn mendes :)

words: 1.9k

warnings: implications of sex and a nervous peter

note: part three is here!

not my gif!

—

“since i’m a man now, i think we should go. the three of us,” peter rolls his eyes and lays his head on his locker as ned rants on and on. ned believes that he is suddenly a man now because he’s dating betty, the school’s news reporter. he’s been begging peter to go hang out with them in a cabin. even just for a night.

it’s been three weeks of this.

“ned, i don’t want to third wheel. why do you want me to come with you guys so bad?” peter grips the straps of his backpack, waiting for a response.

“because you’ve been pretty out of it, peter. look, i know you still have a thing for y/n, but it’s never going to happen if you don’t talk to her. i want you to come, so you can get away for a while,” ned raises his eyebrows a bit and shuts his locker after grabbing his textbook. peter softens from ned’s concerns and inhales a stressed breath.

“i’m fine, i’m staying here.”

“okay then you have to talk to y/n. either you come or you talk to her. you choose,” ned states as the bell rings. his eyebrows raise again as he spins away, meaning betty halfway through the hallway.

if peter were meant to talk to you then it would just happen, right?

peter rushes to grab his english notebook and slams his locker closed, rushing to his next period. this is his favorite period, did he mention why? because you’re there. anywhere you are is his favorite place.

gosh, that sounds more stalker-ish than he thought.

when the final bell rings, peter sits in his usual seat, right in the front of the class. the teacher begins to explain a project that consists of a presentation about any of the historical events that were related to To Kill A Mocking Bird. reading that book was a part of the summer homework, which about half the class didn’t complete. right as she’s finishing the directions, you rush through the door.

“sorry! sorry, i’m late. i… yeah,” y/n shuffles toward the back of the class, breathing unsteady. your hair was a bit messy and one shoe was untied. this was one of those days where you didn’t dress like you were going to an award show but like you were a normal teenager. peter found it adorable and hot that you could rock both styles. not to be blunt or anything, but it was pretty obvious what you were doing. everyone could have probably guessed.

“well… i must say one more thing before i let you all get to work,” the teacher starts as she peers the classroom. “this is a group project. minimum of two people, maximum of four. if you have any questions or concerns, please don’t be afraid to ask. or do. get to work.”

peter sat in his own concern with a half-raised hand in the air. he put his hand down and frowned. to be clear, peter despised group work. he didn’t have many friends (besides ned and maybe betty), so finding people to work with was always a struggle. even if he was forcefully paired with someone, he ended up doing most of the work without being asked. he didn’t have the best communication skills and had much social anxiety. he was an anti-social nerd. he fulfilled the stereotype perfectly.

except for the part where he saves lives on the side now.

yeah, he’s still getting used to that.

but that’s spiderman, not peter parker. spiderman could probably do this assignment, no problem. but peter? he hated it. with that, he’s going to ask his teacher if he could do a solo project. without noticing, you and peter both approach her desk at the same time. she looks up from her stack of papers.

“well, this an interesting pair,” she states, resting her papers flat on the wooden table.

“i—”

“oh no, we’re not um—”

“we’re not together,” you both say at the same time. peter bites his lip to stop talking completely. he feels the heat of embarrassment bubble under his skin and rush to his face. you two have never stood so close together. peter’s heart was beginning to race and he tried his best to breathe without making it obvious that he was seriously freaking out.

“oh, okay then. so what are your questions?”

“well i—”

“i was wondering—”

you both tell each other you can go, which makes peter even more red. you chuckle an awkward laugh as you stuff your hands in your jean pockets.

“can i do the project alone? i think it’s better that way for me,” peter blurts out to his teacher, still flushed, but for a different reason now. it’s embarrassing that he is umcomfortable doing the project with his peers because he’s shy and awkward.

“but peter, it’s a group project. that’s a direction. i can’t change that for you because then—”

“you would have to change it for everyone else, right? well speaking of directions and partners, i don’t have either. so can you please explain the directions of the project? just real quick,” you interrupt the teacher while asking your question and with a smile that screams pretty please?. peter’s heart is about to burst like a firework.

“i have an idea. why don’t you two actually work together? peter will explain all of the directions to you and then you will have her as your partner. i think that would be good. for both of you,” the teacher smiles as she folds her hands over her stack, eyes switching from either student. “that’s a new rule. you two must work together.”

peter both nods forcefully, as you slouch and walk to your desk. peter grabs his stuff as he walks to the back of the class, following you. his breathing was unsteady and his heart was beating louder than full volume music at a house party.

do his powers intensify this stuff? he feels like his heart is a ticking grenade.

he remembers back to the hallway when ned was giving him an ultimatum. he really didn’t want to be a third wheel. and here you were, partnering with him for a stupid english project. now, all he has to do is talk to you.

if peter were meant to talk to you then it would just happen, right?

he recalled his earlier thoughts. he didn’t know whether this was a sign from heaven or hell. they both made him incredibly anxious.

“that was something,” you start as you sit next to peter, closer than when you were standing next to each other.

“yeah, she’s like that sometimes. um, so did you want me to tell you about the project?” peter stuttered, but at least he said words. and they were to you. he can’t get in his head now.

peter explained the project without too much stuttering or mumbling. your eyes were focused on his words (is what peter told himself and not his lips) the whole time and he didn’t even falter (that bad at least). once he was finished, he waited for you to admit your understanding or confusion.

“okay, i think i got it, but that was a lot. i’m more of a step-by-step person. can we do that?” you questioned, lifting your untied shoe on the chair to finally tie it.

“uh yeah, sure that’s fine. great. so i was thinking we can do the—”

“so what’s your story? like what’s your deal?” you interrupted, with your hand under your chin in interest. your eyes seemed to sparkle even under the shitty school ceiling lights.

“what do you mean?” peter was caught off-guard by your sudden question. he didn’t usually get personal questions from anyone besides ned unless they were somehow related to his smarts or school.

“you know, how are you here? shouldn’t you be at some superficial, pretentious, high tech college because you graduated early for being super smart?” you rant with an eye roll. peter blinks, shocked.

wait, you know him?

“well, i’m not that smart—”

“oh, don’t even. i’ve seen all the awards and grades to know you’re smart. you could probably graduate tomorrow if you asked,” you leaned back in your chair with your arms crossed and eyebrows raised. peter wanted to tell you that you were wrong, but if he were to take the GED test, he would pass it with flying colors. he’s thought about it.

wait, you KNOW him? he’s trying not to let his falter him.

“let’s just work on this,” peter shook his head and rubbed his face before grabbing a worksheet and working on the project. you got the memo, and started following along with peter. you asked questions that related solely to the project, trying not to get distracted.

while peter explained an analysis question, you analyzed him. you never really noticed peter before. yes, you knew about his success in school and what not, but you never really saw him. he seems like the biggest dork ever, but in the cutest way. his sweaters and khakis totally make sense for his character and personality.

“i hope you’re smiling because that means you understand…” peter tilts his head to the side, your eyes focusing back. you hadn’t even realized you were smiling.

“yes, totally get it,” you nod your head even though you have no idea what he said. a hint of a smile peeks on peters lips, and it’s so adorable it almost hurts. he goes on to answer the question and the next few, explaining each one and why that is. you weren’t really focusing and you were just begging for this class to end.

when the bell finally rings, you thank the heavens. you were a bit saddened to leave peter and his very squeezable face, but you’d probably forget about it later.

you tend to forget things pretty easily. kind of like how you forgot what time the bell rang for this class while you were… busy in the bathroom. everyone knows what you were doing in there and you couldn’t care less. so what if you got off with some bloke in the bathroom? it’s not breaking news!

peter packs up his papers and books, his heart ramming in his chest. he looks at his papers and notices his sloppy writing because he was so nervous around you. as he puts everything away and slots his backpack upon his shoulders, he catches your eye one last time.

“well it was great working with you, parker. you’re very wise, you know that?” you run your fingers through his lightly gelled hair and completely ruin it. peter was fine with that though. he blushed as he felt the pads of your fingers touch his scalp. you did it in a friendly way, like someone would do to a little kid.

did you think of him as a little kid?

maybe, but at least you thought of him.

you could think of him as a cold-blooded killer for all he cared. you were thinking of him. he was in your mind. peter practically jogged to his locker to meet ned. he still wasn’t sure about the whole cabin thing yet, but he was definitely going to tell ned about his new partnership in english.

“dude,” peter breathes out, now in post-shock. ned looks at peter concerned but intrigued. peter then remembers his fizzed hair and pats it down. “you won’t believe what just happened.”

—

thanks for reading and requesting! 🤭

[midnightmoonytales]

You cannot tell me Snape would not be like Mr. Darcy. Just imagine!!!

I'm a wh0re for pride and prejudice and who better to recreate my favorite scene with other than Snape himself. This is my take in it:

for my beloved @verygayauthor happy earlier birthday

A/n: i made this in the middle of work- I totally have my priorities straight. [all jokes aside, I finished all my work and most of my homework during it] - and the wifi here went out so-

<><><>

Coming from a family of 6 made you headstrong. I was third in line to get married, after Analise and Jacqulyn. I didn't think I was ever going to find someone, everyone was either a little less handsome (YALL ARE ALL MF GORGEOUS) or just internally dreadful. Especially, Mr. Darcy, full of so much pride.

Sitting at your father's legs, arms resting on his lap. "Papa." You muttered, eyes tearing up. "We all misjudged him, papa, I more than, anyone. " Your father's hand resting on top of your hand, "He has been a fool about many things, as have I." You admitted. Hands grasping at the fabric of your father's pants. "He and I are very similar, both so equally stubborn, papa." One hand lifting to wipe away the tears falling from your eyes. Laughing yourself, how foolish.

The sound of your father's wavering voice brings you from your trance. Looking up to see his eyes full of tears, scoffing as if he trying to hold his joy in. "You really love him?" He asked, happily but shocked. Peering up at your father "very much, papa." Exhaling sharply, "I could never depart from you; However, it seems I don't quite have a say. so I give my consent. Hugging him before running out, you hear your father's melancholy laugh coming from his study.

[now imagine this]

Sitting on the cool stone, Snape standing in front of you. "How are you this evening my dear?" He said, finally taking a seat. "Very well only I wish you would not call me my dear," I said, looking up at him. Even in these moments, he still towered over me. "why?"

"It is what my father always calls my mother when he is crossed about something." You said, leaning forward into him and giggling. Shortly after sitting back up, an inquisitive look was cast upon his face. "what endearments am I allowed then?" He said.

"y/n, for every day," you spoke, pausing while thinking. "My darling for Sundays, and Ma Moitie but only on very special occasions." You spoke, head tilting back every so slightly to take in his features.

"And what shall you when I'm cross Mrs. Snape." The way his eyes seemed to be sparkling with thousands of little stars. Months and months of bickering, disagreement, hurt, love, and betrayal all led to this moment. His calloused hands enveloping yours into a loving hold.

“No” gasping for air that you didn’t know you were holding, “no.” Looking down at your connected hands, running a finger down his index. The feeling of rough calluses rubbing against your finger, send chills down your arms. “You are only allowed to call me Mrs. Snape when you are completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy.”

Severus hands rubbing soft circles in the middle of your palm. “And how are you today, Mrs. Snape.” Lifting his hand to push hair behind your ear, planting a small kiss on your forehead. “Mrs, Snape.” Leaving a kiss on your right cheek, “Mrs, Snape,” another gentle kiss to your left cheek. “Mrs. Snape.” He said finally, a soft but passionate kiss was placed onto your lips. Wishing for this to never end.

<><><>

Y’all- that was not my best work. The audacity I have to not make better- but this is dedicated to my best friend, who birthday it is. @verygayauthor. Thank you for being the bestest friend ever and dealing with all the chaos that happens when we’re together.

[quindolyn]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone  of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

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[messers-moony]

Wish | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at the age of 26 instead of 13

He was angry, that wasn’t mistaken, “ You aren’t listening to me! “

“ Are you hearing yourself?! What you’re about to do is dangerous! “ She yelled in response, and he scoffed.

They stood in the main room of their apartment. Y/n was placed in the kitchen leaning on the island while Five was dangerously close to the door. Both of them at the age of twenty-five. They had gotten married only a year before finding each other during one of his trips to Griddy’s with his siblings. He thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Five stalked closer to her, “ You are so stubborn. “

“ I am the strongest one. “ His voice was dangerously low as they stood only a foot apart, “ I will do this. I don’t care what you say. Nothing will change that. “

“ Five, please. “ Y/n begged, “ I’m- I’m just worried about you. “

“ You don’t need to be. “ Five snapped, and he fast-walked to the door.

The male swung open the door, “ Five wait, please- “ But before she could finish, the door slammed, “ I’m pregnant. “

It was new news. She didn’t find out until a week earlier. She didn’t know when to tell him; there never was a suitable time. Now he had just threatened to fulfill a lifetime goal of his– time travel. Since he was a boy, he’s wanted to prove his worth. The only way Five could think to do that is by time-traveling into the future. He didn’t know what the future would entail. He definitely didn’t plan to get stuck in an apocalypse.

So for nine torturous months, Y/n endured a pregnancy. She was carrying a child of her presumed to be dead husband, which she didn’t believe in the slightest. Five Hargreeves was alive, and she knew that regardless of what anyone told her. She had a baby boy who she named Malachi. The same bright, alluring green as his fathers.

Despite his birth father not being around, Diego was a significant help. Diego stepped in where Five couldn’t. He was there for all of Malachi’s firsts and everything in between. But he was always Uncle Diego. A constant reminder that this man wasn’t his father. As far as the little boy knew, he didn’t have a father.

Things got more tricky as he got older. Malachi realized that a father figure was more common than not, which brought raising questions. She answered to the best of her abilities, but nothing was ever valid. None of her answers could be a hundred percent true because she didn’t know either. It was killing her to see her son this way.

He longed for a father. Wanted nothing more for a father-son relationship. Every birthday, every Christmas, he wished for his father to come home. It was killing Y/n because she understood his pain. The amount of dread, guilt, and sadness.

Maybe if she had told Five sooner, he would’ve never left. The guilt ate away at her. It was like an insect slowly crawling its way under her skin into her bones and nibbling them until they were gone. It didn’t help Malachi was an exact replica of his father. The dark, almost raven hair parted to the side, the glittering green eyes and a defined face.

No matter how long Five was gone, Y/n never took off her rings. She was a married woman until proven otherwise. Malachi had never even seen photos of his father. That was normal to him. All he knew was that his Uncles and Aunts told him he looked the exact same. Despite the same appearances, they had clashing personalities.

Malachi was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Kind no matter who the person was. Wise beyond his years and intelligent like no other. His strong suit was English while he struggled in math. The irony was amusing. His father excelled in math, but he couldn’t do a two-step equation if he tried.

In the grand scheme of things, this didn’t matter. He got all the way up to high school. He was seventeen, to be exact, in his junior year of school. It was the summer before his senior year, and he couldn’t be more excited. As the years went on, the hope of meeting his father diminished to the point where he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He had his mom, and that’s all that mattered. His mom was his rock, his number one supporter, and his best friend. Malachi loved his mom more than anything and would give anything to keep her safe. Diego had grown to be like a father to him, but it was never the same. Malachi was sitting at the island doing homework while Y/n was cooking.

“ Hey, mom? “ He called, “ Yeah? “ Y/n turned to look at her son.

Malachi fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, “ Can I- Can I see your rings? “

“ My rings? Why? “ She asked, “ Well, dad gave them to you, didn’t he? “ Malachi replied.

Y/n nodded, “ Of course he did. We were married, technically we still are married. “

“ I just wanted to see what dad gave you. “ He murmured.

Hesitantly Y/n twisted both her engagement ring and her wedding ring off her left ring finger. She set them down on the granite island before her son so he could look at them. Gently he picked the engagement ring up and looked at it. It was the only time he’s ever seen the ring this close. She never took them off.

“ We got engaged in the snow. “ Y/n informed quietly, “ I really wasn’t expecting it. He never seemed like one to settle down. “

Malachi listened intently, “ Regardless. It was almost Christmas, and he took me to go Christmas shopping at one of the malls which was outside. “ She chuckled, “ Why he did that, I don’t know, but it was amusing. We got hot chocolate despite his love for coffee, and I made him wear a Santa hat. “

“ He was never into festivities before meeting me. Neither were your Aunts and Uncles. I started making holidays become more festive when you were born. Eventually, they got the hang of it. “ Y/n continued, “ Why was dad's name a number? “ He interjected.

“ He never got a name like the rest of his siblings. “ She answered plainly, “ Why? “

Y/n sighed, “ His father, more specifically your grandfather was a cruel man. Still is a very cruel man, which is why you’ve never met him. Reginald made the Umbrella Academy, where he adopted your dad along with his other siblings. “ She explained, “ They endured long days of training without breaks and horrid living environments. They were treated as experiments rather than children. “

“ They all got names, but Five didn’t want one. He rejected it because it didn’t matter. Name or anything. Their numbers would always define them, and Five was the only one who understood that. “ She finished.

“ What really happened to him? I know you’ve given me vague explanations, but I think I’m ready for the real thing. “ Malachi stated, “ I’m seventeen now. “

“ I know. Your father had powers. His others siblings do as well. They all do certain things. Five could travel through space and time. “ Y/n began, “ Growing up, he always felt the need to prove himself, to be better than everyone else. “

“ So, one day, he told me he was going to time travel. It was a big argument that definitely didn’t need to happen. At the time, I was a week pregnant with you, and I didn’t know how to tell him. “ She swallowed the emotions arising after remembering Five’s glare,

“ When I told him, it was too late. He was already out the door and gone. “

Y/n walked forward and took the rings back. She placed them back on her ring finger carefully as her son watched every movement. He knew she was upset. Malachi couldn’t help but be a bit resentful towards his father. All this to make a point? It seemed far-fetched.

“ That solution seems a bit absurd. “ Malachi commented, “ That's what I was trying to tell him, but he was very prideful and stubborn. “ Y/n replied.

A knock echoed through the apartment. The room felt tense. It wasn’t right; something felt off. Malachi felt it immediately cause he stood up and began walking to the door, wanting to protect his mother if a threat was there. Secretly Diego may have given him some defense classes, but that didn’t matter.

The boy opened the door to see almost the exact same face staring back at him, “ Who are you? “ Malachi snapped.

“ More importantly, who are you? “ The man retorted.

Every hair on Y/n’s body stood up. She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. It was him. He was back. It took everything inside her not to scream or cry but seeing Malachi hold his defensive stance against his own father was worrying her.

“ Malachi. “ She called, and he turned to her as she began to walk to the door, “ I need you to go to your room and promise not to eavesdrop. “

He wanted to protest, “ Please, sweet. I’ll be okay. I promise. “

Reluctantly Malachi backed away from the door giving the man a harsh glare that made the man evidently tense. Y/n waited for Malachi to be fully retreated in his bedroom before looking at the man in front of her.

“ Well. It looks like you’ve moved on. “ Five murmured, “ No- please. It isn’t what it looked like. “ She pleaded.

Her hand took his, and he recognized the rings on her finger. The same rings Malachi had just been examining. The same rings he took months to search for to find the perfect fit for his perfect girl. Everything seemed so colorful in his greyscale world now. His wife was still his.

“ Who- Who is he? “ His voice trembled as his lingering suspicion felt more accurate than ever, “ Come in and sit. We need to talk. “ Her voice was gentle and held no malice.

Five entered the now unrecognizable apartment. It wasn’t the same as when he left. In fact, everything seemed moved out of place. Y/n walked to the stove and turned off the burner that she was using. Five had peered at the papers on the island that were math worksheets and took a seat beside them.

“ Where did you go? “ She asked, “ The future. “

“ No shit. What did it look like? “ Y/n retorted playfully, “ It’s not as I hoped. It’s an apocalypse, love. “ His voice held so much pent emotion it was almost radiating off him.

She sighed, “ Okay. We need to talk about that- “

“ I- I want to know who that kid is. “ Five interrupted, and she gave him a knowing look, “ Malachi, can you come out here. “ Y/n called, and instantly he was out of his room.

The boy stood beside his mom, still not comfortable with the unfamiliar man. This time Five got a chance to really look at the teenage boy in front of him. The defined face, the almost raven hair, the same sage green eyes. His posture was protective and territorial, obviously for his mom.

“ Y/n… “ Five began as he swallowed the tears in his throat, “ Is- Is he mine? “

She nodded, “ Five Hargreeves, I’d like you to meet your son, Malachi Hargreeves. Malachi, I’d like you to meet your father, Five. “

[wondernimbus]

two sworn enemies — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

requests are closed for now! please refrain from plagiarizing my work.

After being on the receiving end of Malfoy's torment for four whole years at Hogwarts—a place where she's supposed to be making friends and learning and making the most out of all her youthful years—[Y/N] is beginning to grow tired.

The last thing she’s supposed to be worrying about is a snarky Slytherin boy who always has some sort of rude remark resting on his lips every time he comes across her in the corridors. Or anywhere, for that matter—Draco Malfoy's incessant jest seems to stay within no boundaries.

Eleven-year-old [Y/N] used to be fazed by it; she used to cry herself to sleep every time the platinum blond would push past her in the hallway, yelling out something offensive on his way, usually to do with her friendship with blood-traitors and the "big-headed" Harry Potter (or so Malfoy referred to him). She used to feel angry—angry enough to want to whip her wand out at him and hex him into oblivion every time he'd even as much as lay eyes on her. But the more Malfoy tried to bother her, the more it didn't anymore.

Fourth year wasn't so bad. Malfoy had already called her about a hundred nasty names at that point and was running out of them—his creativity was dwindling and [Y/N]'s concern along with it. She'd even laughed at him, one time during Transfiguration class—genuinely laughed, not out of frustration or anger but because she found something that he said to her funny.

"How does it feel being surrounded by blood-traitors and Mudbloods, [Y/L/N]? Pity you chose the wrong crowd to hang around."

"How did it feel to get punched by a girl, Malfoy? I hear Hermione packs quite a punch."

Malfoy’s nose had wrinkled into his signature sneer before he scoffed. "Tell Granger she can improve her right hook." At which point [Y/N] had snorted out a laugh—and yes, it wasn't a full-blown burst of chortles, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Fifth year rolls around and Draco Malfoy is the least of [Y/N]'s worries. She's gotten over his nagging at this point; all his jabs have lost a bit, if not all of their luster.

But then a week after classes have started, Malfoy starts acting—weird. Very weird. [Y/N] has no idea what's gotten into him, but Draco's cruel insults seem to have veered off course and taken a very dramatic turn. He still yells at her in the hallways, but not to make some harmful jibe [Y/N] has heard thousands of times before. Instead Draco—yes, Draco Malfoy, the same boy who has never once failed to torment her in the past years they've known each other—has now made it a habit to yell pick-up lines. At her. At [Y/N]. At the same girl he's been bad-mouthing for the past four years.

The first time it happens, [Y/N] can't believe her ears. She thinks he's yelling at someone else other than her, because there is no way bloody Draco Malfoy is shouting "DO YOU PLAY QUIDDITCH? BECAUSE YOU SEEM LIKE A KEEPER" at her from halfway across the Great Hall.

But he's definitely staring at her, grinning widely in that conceited sort of way that [Y/N] has always despised.

"Is he talking to me?" [Y/N] asks Hermione, bewildered.

"Looks like it." Hermione looks just as surprised as her. "Knowing Malfoy, he's not up to anything good. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

But ignoring Draco Malfoy is not something [Y/N] is capable of; the feistiness in her makes sure of that. So instead of moving on and turning a blind eye, she cups her hands over her mouth and yells, just as loud, "ARE YOU A BLUDGER? BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO BASH A BEATER'S BAT INTO YOUR—"

Whatever Malfoy is up to, [Y/N] isn't entirely sure she's enjoying it. The next afternoon—also in the Great Hall, while [Y/N] is doing her homework instead of eating lunch (because Snape apparently thinks it's a good idea to ask for a four-page essay when the school year has barely even started), there's a thump and [Y/N] looks up to see that there's a little red envelope sitting on her empty plate. Looking even further up, she sees an owl flying away from the table and out of the roof of the Great Hall, where the owls always come from to deliver letters—although that only happens at breakfast. Which means this is from someone else, likely another student.

[Y/N] stares.

"It's a Howler," Harry says from next to her, like she doesn't already know.

"I'm aware," she mutters, narrowing her eyes at it before she sets down her quill to grab it.

"Who would send you a Howler?" Ron has looked up from where he'd been shoveling beans into his plate. He crowds into her space, peering at the envelope she now holds in her hands; and she can't really answer him, because only her name is scribbled across the front in handwriting she doesn't recognize. Whoever sent it to her didn't bother with writing their own name.

She hesitates, brows furrowed as she, too, wonders where it's from. Her parents don't have a reason to send her a Howler—unless she's done something wrong that she isn't aware of. But it's only been a week since school has started and as far as she can tell, she hasn't done anything worthy of being sent a Howler. Or at least not yet.

"Might as well," she sighs—it's going to deliver its message one way or the other, anyway, and [Y/N] prefers to open it herself than have it burst into flames, rain ashes down upon her homework, and then start talking—so she opens the envelope.

The Howler jumps to life in front of her, hovering in front of her face, and [Y/N] has never seen a piece of stationery look so angry before. A forked tongue slips out of the envelope—[Y/N] braces herself for the worst, despite not knowing who on earth might have sent it—until a familiar voice booms around the Great Hall.

"ARE YOU A BASILISK? BECAUSE WHEN I SAW YOU, I FROZE."

Ron's shoulders automatically start shaking with laughter. Most of the Great Hall—or at least the ones close enough to hear the Howler—have turned around to watch the spectacle unfold, giggling behind their palms and pointing at [Y/N] like she can't see them. [Y/N], in the meantime, stares, completely dead to the world and everything else around her, because she knows that voice.

But then the Howler keeps talking. "IF YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A DATE, I CAN PROMISE YOU THINGS THOSE FILTHY PEASANTS CAN NEVER GIVE YOU."

The entire hall has fallen completely silent. [Y/N] feels her face burning up, but not with embarrassment—[Y/N] is angry. She feels it thrumming in her veins, curling around her lungs, clouding all of her senses.

With a single flick of [Y/N]'s wand, the Howler bursts into flames with a final feeble wheeze of I'm also a fairly good snogger. Ron is roaring with laughter and Harry has also joined in. Two-faced gits.

[Y/N] slams her palms down on the table and vaguely even registers the pain this gives her as she steps out from behind the bench and turns around to face the Slytherin table because of course she knows who sent the Howler. Of course she knows who would go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, because that extremely irritating, maddeningly haughty voice can only belong to one person—and sure enough, the idiot in question is standing there on top of the benches, arms outstretched towards her and that proud, snooty look on his face like he expects her to actually be impressed.

Over Ron and Harry's laughter, [Y/N] shouts angrily, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy drops his arms to his sides, hops off the bench, and swaggers towards her. She meets him halfway—and when she does, she doesn't hesitate to shove him angrily by the shoulders. He stumbles back a little, but he's still grinning annoyingly wide. "Have you come to me bearing an answer?" he says, his tone mocking, and [Y/N] just barely suppresses herself from whipping out her wand and jabbing it somewhere she wouldn't want a wand anywhere near. They are still surrounded by teachers. "I imagine it's a yes—who would turn me down, after all—"

"Drop the fucking act," she hisses; all eyes are on them, because Hogwarts never passes up a chance for gossip, and this might be the most exciting one yet. Draco Malfoy publicly asking out the girl everyone knows he's hated, and has hated him, for a long time—what a spectacle. But [Y/N] knows that his intentions are far from genuine; this is just another way to humiliate her and get on her nerves. And as much as she hates to admit it, it's a pretty good fucking move, because she hasn't been this annoyed by him in a long time.

Her teeth are gritted together so hard her words barely come out coherent. "I don't know what you're playing at," she practically growls, taking a step closer to get in his face, "But I encourage you to get yourself together."

But Malfoy seems unaffected. "Pity you didn't let the Howler finish," he drawls, still with that same smirk on his lips as he wriggles his brows suggestively. "I could've told you more about my superior snogging skills."

"Which is exactly why I didn't," she fumes. "We're in the middle of lunch—any more of you talking about your 'superior snogging skills' and the entirety of this hall would've thrown up on themselves. I know I would've."

At this, the smile on Malfoy's face droops a little, a ghost of his familiar sneer seeping in. [Y/N] takes a step back away from him, because she can't stand being more than a few feet near the prat. "You've got a lot of nerve, pulling this," she scoffs. "Try it again and you'll regret it. Now excuse me while I go do my bloody homework."

And then she turns around, goes back to the Gryffindor table, and does her bloody homework.

—

But Malfoy, as it turns out, isn't as weak-willed as he lets on. She's started receiving Howlers every morning at breakfast, all of which burst into flames every time to rain ashes upon her innocent plate of eggs and toast, but only after loudly blurting out some ridiculously bad pick-up line. It's been four days since the first Howler and they've only gotten progressively worse ever since—"you must be a Boggart because I'm terrified of pretty women"—and [Y/N] is beginning to grow so very tired.

Today, she hexes him in the middle of the hallway just as he's coming out of Potions class. She had warned him, all those days ago, that he'd regret it if he didn't let up. So [Y/N] watches, terribly amused as Draco starts wailing in the corridor, his hands splayed over his face in a measly attempt to cover the sardines falling out of his nostrils. It's an irreversible hex—or at least for eight hours—but until then, Draco will have to deal with the tiny fishes that shoot out of his nose at random intervals. [Y/N] can't bring herself to feel bad, not when he's humiliated her time and time again in front of so many people.

No Howlers arrive the morning after. There's a sense of what feels like disappointment coming off of the Great Hall; some people have actually turned around in their seats to watch her in anticipation for an owl to come swooping down upon her bearing a red envelope. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. [Y/N], meanwhile, is finally at peace.

Or at least until Ron jabs her in the side and goes, "So are you?" he's grinning. "A Boggart, I mean."

It's a reference to the Howler she received yesterday. Her movements are dangerously swift; immediately she smacks the back of his head, sending him into a complaining frenzy. She rolls her eyes. "Stupid Malfoy."

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry begins, "I kind of wish you hadn't hexed him into stopping. His pick-up lines were pretty funny."

"Ha!" [Y/N] points a finger at Harry and nods approvingly, laughing a little. "That's a good one, Harry."

Harry stares at her dead in the eye. "Oh, I wasn't joking."

Her face falls.

"I suppose being on the receiving end of Malfoy's affection isn't any better than being hated by him," says Hermione, offering [Y/N] a sympathetic smile. "It's a good thing you showed him not to mess with you any further, [Y/N]."

[Y/N] tries for a smile of her own, but it comes out all stiff and crooked. "I feel like the past few days have been a fever dream," she says, shuddering. "This new form of—bullying, I don't know—has just been so weird. The bad names I've gotten used to, but—the compliments? The pick-up lines?"

"D'you think he's gone off his rocker?" Ron suggests.

"Maybe he fancies you," says Hermione off-handedly.

The effect this has on the three is instantaneous; Ron, Harry, and [Y/N] simultaneously blanch as though they've all swallowed something sour at the same time. Ron is choking on a piece of toast and Harry has spit water everywhere.

"Absolutely not," [Y/N] is shaking her head, nose wrinkled in distaste. "He can't possibly—that's ridiculous. We've hated each other for years."

"Feelings do change," Hermione shrugs, rolling her eyes at Ron and Harry, who have yet to recover from their initial shock. "And besides, it was just a suggestion. Although I don't see why he'd go out of his way to send you Howlers repeatedly asking you out if he doesn't fancy you."

"Because he wants to humiliate me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, alright, alright," Hermione sighs, sensing her defeat. "But you never know."

Ron has gathered his bearings once more. He turns to Hermione, genuine concern flooding his features, and blubbers, "Did I hear you right? Malfoy—fancying [Y/N]?"

"Yes, Ronald." Another eye-roll. "It's not that outlandish. Boys are boys—even Malfoy."

"Merlin's beard," he slumps down in his seat, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been this surprised. Not since I heard that Percy managed to score himself a girlfriend, and that was three years ago."

A few days pass, and while no more Howlers arrive, Malfoy is still as insistent as ever in his attempts to "woo" her—or, well, whatever it is he's trying to do. [Y/N] doesn’t quite know what to call it anymore; for some reason, it no longer feels like an attempt to bully or humiliate her. It's not as though he's insulting her, and it's not like her reputation is in any way being lessened. In fact, most of Hogwarts, it seems, enjoys the so-called "love-hate relationship" they've got going on, and expects them to get together sometime in the near future.

[Y/N] learns all of this from Fred and George, who are always a good source of gossip.

"What better love story than two sworn enemies falling in love?" George gushes, clasping his hands together.

"So romantic," Fred sings, closing his eyes and swaying his hips as though listening to a sultry tune only he can hear. “Setting aside their differences to answer the call of their hearts."

"Oh, Malfoy's still an arse, of course."

"But it's still romantic."

Part of [Y/N] wishes that the twins hadn’t told her that, because it makes it all the more confusing on her part. If, by some miracle, Malfoy does fancy her—what is she supposed to do? Ride off with him into the sunset? They are enemies—they have been for four, supposedly five years now, except this year Malfoy is being an insufferable twat who won't stop yelling pick-up lines at her in the hallways.

[Y/N] decides to turn a blind eye on him. If she ignores him for long enough, he's bound to stop.

Right?

—

Despite being a close friend to the famous Harry Potter, [Y/N] can say she’s made a name for herself at school that stretches far beyond just that girl who hangs out with the Chosen One. She’s been playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for two years and has contributed to some of the house’s most fantastic wins as a Chaser, and she’s also a fairly good student. She may have a penchant for trouble-making, but she knows how to limit herself. She prides herself for her work ethic and thus her grades are above average—enough for her to earn the favor of most of her teachers and for eager first-years to sometimes come up to her asking for help doing homework.

But enough for those very same first-years to come up to her in the hallway ready to do all of her biddings for the day, practically demanding her to hand over her books so that they can carry them for her? No. Certainly not. [Y/N] may have made a name for herself, but definitely not one renowned enough to earn the eleven-year-olds now crowded around her moments after she steps out of potions class, telling her that, “We’re here at your disposal! If you need us to do anything, just say the word!”

[Y/N] stares at the three children clustered around her, all wide-eyed and for some reason incredibly eager for her to start bossing them around.

Taken aback, she ushers them into a corner; the hallway is busy and people will keep bumping into them if they stay in the middle of the hallway like that.

Once away from the bustling main corridor, she bends down a little so that she’s at eye-level with all of them. “At my disposal?” she repeats, eyes narrowing playfully. “What do you mean?”

“We’re here to carry your books for you or grab you snacks from the kitchens or tie your shoelaces if you need us to!” one of them exclaims, bouncing on his toes.

Alright—this is getting ridiculous. [Y/N] pauses, lips pressed together into a thin line as she stares at each one of the first-years in turn; all three of them are staring at her as though waiting for her to start asking them to do push-ups.

She inhales. Someone must have put them up to this, because there is no way these children woke up this morning and simultaneously decided to become her servants for the day.

“Well,” she begins, smiling at them—and good grief, did she really look that young when she was eleven? “Thank you for offering to help me. I appreciate it, really—but lucky for me I’ve got some very capable arms and I think I can handle tying my shoelaces and carrying my books around and whatnot. But again—thank you. You’re all very nice.”

She pauses to look at their reactions; the smiles on their faces have drooped a little as they turn to one another, seemingly at a loss for words. “But,” the one girl says, frowning, “We’re supposed to help you.”

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows. “Supposed to?”

Someone definitely put them up to this—[Y/N] is certain of it now. And she has a good guess as to who.

She starts by saying, tone gentle, “Did someone tell you to do this? Because that’s really kind, and I’d love to thank them.”

The girl bunches up her lips in thought, shuffling her feet against the ground. “We’re not supposed to say,” she mutters, glancing at the two boys next to her nervously.

[Y/N] inhales. She needs confirmation, so she crouches down so that she’s the same height as them, and offers them all the friendliest, most trustworthy smile she can muster. The kind that wins over eleven-year-olds. “You won’t get in trouble if you tell me,” she tells them gently, and waits for them to nod in understanding before she goes, “Was it Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

They don’t have to respond—the looks on their faces are enough confirmation. [Y/N] suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, because of course Malfoy is the kind of person to somehow get first-years to do something like this. And she’s pretty sure it has something to do with bribery.

“Did he promise to give you anything, maybe?” [Y/N] presses on patiently.

The girl leans in and cups her hand over her mouth to whisper excitedly, “Chocolate frogs. Five for each of us.”

Ah. Of course. [Y/N] sighs inwardly and nods, standing up properly to once more tower over the tiny first-years. As much as she would love to have her own personal butlers, there is absolutely no way she is agreeing to take any part in exploiting these young kids. So she ruffles all of their hair in turn and promises to give them much, much more chocolate frogs than Malfoy will ever be able to offer if they swear to ignore him for the rest of their lives.

So she stands there in the hallway, a minute late for Transfiguration, watching the three first-years skip down the hallway, grinning excitedly to themselves—no doubt because they’ve just been promised what could be an infinite supply of chocolate frogs.

Which [Y/N] will now have to spend a lump of her summer savings on. Great. Bloody fantastic.

She didn’t think she could hate Draco Malfoy even more than she already did, but now, with the burden of buying chocolate frogs resting on her shoulders, she realizes that anything is possible.

[Y/N] finds Draco later on in the day when she’s heading to the Great Hall for dinner; as she’s passing by a window that coincidentally overlooks the Quidditch pitch, she sees him zooming around the stadium by himself, no doubt practicing to better his (in [Y/N]’s opinion) ghastly Seeker skills.

So she trudges off to the pitch, arms folded over her chest as she yells, “Malfoy!”

He notices, stops in mid-air, and immediately flies down to land in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his broom. That signature smirk is already on his face, mirrored by [Y/N]'s angry scowl. “Here to take me up on my offer for a date?” he grins, shaking his (sweaty, wet) hair out of his eyes. [Y/N] watches the movement, unimpressed. “Or were you just planning to watch me practice?”

She scoffs, tearing her eyes away from the way he’s running a hand through his blond hair. “Neither. I thought you were bad enough, Malfoy, but bribing first-years into doing my bidding for me? In exchange for bloody chocolate frogs?”

Malfoy’s hand pauses in carding through his hair. He drops it back to his side. “So you figured it out.”

”Why else would first-years be so eager for me to boss them around?”

”Maybe because they find you just as beautiful as I do?” he suggests, eyes glinting, the smile on his face growing even wider. [Y/N] lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter, because is he really still keeping this act up when no one is around to see? Is he that desperate to get on her nerves?

“Just stop it, Malfoy,” she says through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to him. At this, he whistles a little, eyebrows rising, and for some reason [Y/N] tries very, very hard not to look at the sweat trickling down his forehead, the pale pink hue of his cheeks from the strain of practicing—“Please for the love of Merlin can you just drop the whole I’m-in-love-with-you act? You got what you wanted. You’ve annoyed me enough.”

Draco's nose wrinkles. “Oh, but that’s not what I wanted,” the smile on his face falters a little. ”Did you really think I did all of this just to annoy you?”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows furrow—and is that her heart skipping a beat? No. No, definitely not. Falling quiet for a few moments, she finally sniffs and says, “Why else would you go out of your way to act absolutely smitten by me?”

An echo of Hermione's voice from several days ago reverberates through her head. Maybe he fancies you.

Malfoy shrugs, his smirk falling just the tiniest bit to be replaced by a semblance of sincerity. But that can’t be. And then he says, “Maybe I fancy you,” and [Y/N]’s eyes widen.

That can’t be right. Flabbergasted, she blinks, taking a step back. This has to be some sort of joke—no, yes, that’s exactly what this is: another way to crawl under her skin and annoy the daylights out of her. She has to applaud him for his creativity.

Pinching the space between her eyes in irritation, she looks up at Malfoy, inhales, and says, deadpan, “I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Malfoy counters, eyebrows raised innocently, and [Y/N] has never wanted to smack him more than she does now.

She lets out another incredulous laugh, because this entire situation is just so bloody ridiculous that she can’t quite wrap her head around it. Throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, she turns to him and says, “Alright—okay. Let’s say you do fancy me. I’m going to pretend for a few seconds that you do—okay?”

Draco watches her, evidently amused judging by his grin, shrugs, and nods.

“Okay,” she huffs. “If you do fancy me—why on earth would you?”

Draco opens his mouth, but she cuts him off: “We hate each other, Malfoy. We’ve hated each other since the moment you laid eyes on me and I laid eyes on you. What could have possibly changed your rotten mind?”

He rolls his eyes at this, shifting a little on where he stands. “For starters,” he begins, like he’s talking to a five-year-old, “I didn’t hate you. I disliked the fact that you hung out with the wrong sort of people.”

”The wrong sort of people,” she repeats, deadpan.

“The Weasleys. Blood traitors. Mudbloods.”

She scowls at him, brain struggling to fathom what the bloody hell he’s trying to tell her. Managing to once more plow through her confusion, she says, “Your point is?”

“I’d have asked you out long ago if only you were smarter with who you chose to befriend,” and there it is—that familiar, distasteful sneer [Y/N] hasn’t seen in a long time. “Your family’s one of the oldest wizarding families around. It’s a shame.”

She lets out another scoff of disbelief, but the first few of Draco's words have something inside of her stirring. She refuses to address it and instead says, “So—and again, I’m pretending—you fancy me because of my family?”

He lets out a little sniff. “Not what I said.”

”What is it you’re trying to say, then?”

“Blimey, how long is it going to take you to realize that I actually bloody fancy you?”

Draco has dropped all pretense of nonchalant arrogance; he’s staring at her, obviously frustrated and a little annoyed. He stops leaning on his broom and lets it drop to the ground in favor of advancing towards her until he’s mere inches away from her face.

”I fancy you,” he repeats, and it’s funny, how he says it, because declarations of love are supposed to be sweet and gentle—not scathing and angry. He’s scowling down at her, lip curling, brows drawn in together in the middle in a tight frown. “I’ve decided that I don’t care who you hang around anymore because I fancy you. Do you get it now?”

[Y/N] swallows, staring at him, momentarily frozen. Malfoy doesn’t seem as though he’s joking—and now she doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been this close to him before—close enough to see herself in the reflection of his eyes, which are a striking grey and remind her of thunderstorms brewing behind dark clouds—

She takes in a deep breath and swivels around, turning away from him. “Stop sending children to be my servants,” she says, and starts to walk away—until Malfoy grabs her wrist and forces her to look at him again.

For a moment the look in his eyes convinces [Y/N] that he’s about to apologize, but then his lips are splitting into a wide grin again and he says, “What if I bribe a seventh year into doing your homework for you?”

Another scoff. She tears her wrist away from his grip and stalks off, in complete and utter disbelief.

”Or a house-elf to bring you food?” he calls after her. “Someone to do your hair for you in the morning? Or someone to yell at me for you?”

She halts at the last one, and for some odd, unknown reason, she feels like smiling. But she doesn’t, because that will open a door into something she isn’t sure she wants to explore. So she turns around, suppressing that mysterious little smile, already twenty feet away from Malfoy as she says, loudly, “I like doing that last one myself, thanks.”

From this distance, she thinks Malfoy might be smiling. But she doesn’t stay long enough to find out.

click here to read pt. 2!

[katmoonz]

Depression

Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3034

Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work. 

Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.

Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx

Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.

Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.

The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.

This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.

At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.

You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.

Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.

The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.

You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.

Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.

Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.

Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.

“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.

“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.

“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.

Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.

You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.

Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*

You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.

Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*

Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.

Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.

The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.

Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.

Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.

“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.

“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.

Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*

Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.

The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.

Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.

Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.

“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”

“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus

Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don’t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”

Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”

“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius

Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”

Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”

Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.

The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.

The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.

Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”

Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.

Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.

Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.

Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.

The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.

“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.

Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.

Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”

This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.

Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.

You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.

Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.

Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”

You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.

Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”

The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.

Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.

You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.

Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”

Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”

Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”

Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”

“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.

You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.

You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”

The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.

Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”

Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”

Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.

You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.

“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”

You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.

“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.

You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”

You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”

He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”

This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.

“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.

“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.

“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”

Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”

“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”

“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.

“Rubbit” he replies.

This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.

After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.

“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.

Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”

You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”