#I want to write fic. I want to draw. I want to read and comment on other people’s stuff
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yapping about fics and commenting
sorry to yap but work is boring today and tumblr isn't blocked on my work computer LOL
ok it's abt that post where the writer friend stopped writing because they weren't getting the comments/kudos they wanted.
i'm like. an overeager fandom person. like i cannot get into a fandom without wanting to meet new people and make friends. i love yapping about whatever silly gay idiots i'm hyperfixating over. i'm all about community, and sharing the joy of fandom, and all that fun positive stuff.
i don't post my art for stats but like. that means nothing coming from me tbh. i get stats. i can't accurately predict what would happen if i stopped getting notes on my art, but i would probably keep drawing and keep posting, just maybe less confidently, and less often. i recognize that stats make it much easier and while it’s not my primary motivation, it definitely motivates me to keep posting.
and yet. for years, i never commented on fic. i think i left kudos? and i saw posts like this all the time about how writers were so sad they didn't get comments. and i would feel super guilty about it all the time. but i still wouldn't do it! it sounds stupid, but i would feel pressured. if i liked a fic a lot, it felt even more difficult to comment, because i thought i would have to somehow give back to the author everything that fic gave to me. i wanted to craft the perfect comment that could perfectly encapsulate everything a fic made me feel. and that was way too much pressure so i would just not say anything.
when i got into drarry, i started reading a shit ton of fic. and i still wouldn't comment. i left maybe... 2 or 3 comments, maybe, i think. i can't remember. but i had a lot to say and i WANTED the writers to hear that i had read it and liked it. i just... didn't comment! u know what i did instead? i just fucking straight up DM'd writers on discord and started gushing to them that i liked their fic. somehow i was confident enough to do that, but writing a comment still felt like too much pressure. ?? i don't understand it either, but in my head it felt like a writing assignment, but when I was in DMs it felt more like a conversation and so there wasn't any pressure to make it "good"? idk!! it's very weird.
then i wrote and posted my first complete fic. just a oneshot, nothing special, and i was like. UNREASONABLY nervous about posting it. like. i am a confident person, okay? i was going to make a burner AO3 account and post it under a different name so nobody would know it was me, and then never mention it to anyone except MAYBE super close friends. i got talked out of doing that (thanks i feel a bit silly about considering that now). and then i received my first comment on it, which was basically a two-liner where someone said they liked it and thanked me for writing it.
and i was like. ??...?????? ???????? ...??!!! because i felt like... uncontainable glee? i was freakishly happy. the amount of serotonin those two sentences gave me was definitely unnatural.
is that healthy? idk. will it continue? idk. LOL. i hope so? but idk, some people said it wears off if you write/post for a while. but whatever, the fact that one little comment like that could make my entire day blew my mind. tbh i thought writers were just exaggerating when they said stuff like that.
ever since then i started leaving comments! that shit's easy! like what was i overthinking for? i'm such a fucking tryhard! all i gotta say is that i liked it, and even the bare minimum can bring lots of joy to someone.
so basically what im trying to say is that negative reinforcement doesn't do shit!! it just makes people feel bad about themselves. that post is nasty for guilt-tripping readers like that, and i bet you it's going to have the opposite effect (or no effect tbh).
YAPPING FINISHED. for now.
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posting this with absolutely no context
#am i a cryptid now? i log on like once in a blue moon to post cringe and then leave again#ace attorney#apollo justice#tikki#random stuff#my stuff#ooookay okay okay okay. anyone reading the tags can have a LITTLE context‚ as a treat#so. sitting on my ao3 currently is an unfinished fic with exactly this premise#i want to finish it so bad. it haunts me every day. people leave such nice comments and everything#but i just have no motivation. trust me i've tried#i thought that perhaps drawing it might finally kick my brain back into gear#i'm so sorry readers i'm sorry i WILL finish it i promise it's not abandoned#it was so much fuuuuun#tikki are you seeing this. cringefail author who keeps playing video games instead of writing lmao#anyway goodbye friends i am gone again. logging off once more
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cant stop thinkin bout charles and erik readin together on the couch but instead of reading with him charles is listening to eriks thoughts while he reads. Live mind commentary ……..
#xmen#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#snap chats#the rare time i post an idea of mine only because i really cant think of a way id draw this#usually i hoard my ideas cause i like surprising you guys but this aint really one i feel like drawing so. For You my friends#like i COULD but. idk just isnt particularly something im itching to draw it just seems cute#but anyways no chat let me cook alright hear me out cause i talk in my brain all the time while i read#sometimes i stop reading just to think about a bit i read yeah#i want charles to listen in on all of eriks side comments or observations he makes while reading something#like if he wanted to charles could read the whole book in less than five minutes- maybe shorter than that#and that aint fun that aint cool …. so time for Audible: Husband Edition. With Commentary#ITD BE SO COZY just hangin out by the fireplace …. maybe its snowin outisde … if snow even exists anymore atp#a light fire cracklin and the study SEEMS totally quiet otherwise and yet…..#charles has been locked in to erik’s off-the-cuff literary analysis and mild comments for the past twenty minutes. its simple but its bliss#charles doesnt have to worry about being seen as invasive .. he doesnt have to suppress his powers …#the rare occasion erik lets charles into his mind for somethin so innocent .. ive made myself sick i fear#see now i wanna try writing a fic but 1.) have written in years 2.) id have to really think hard on how erik would commentate on a book#hm…… actually i do wonder what erik’s commentary on The Fable of the Bees would be …..#IN ANY CASE. maybe - at the very least- i can draw cherik by the fireplce someday ….#thatd be cute … hm …. depends on if i get in the mood for it down the line#anyways i have to drive back to my dorm !!! boo !!!! so good night everyone !!!!!
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I realize I've been so flaky with responding to asks, finishing my drawings or fics I promised, etc. I've kind of been drifting in and out of tumblr without interacting much. Real life just finally started, and I need to build up a ton of motivation and find time before I can work on a fandom project. Just wanted to say that I'm still here and still working on stuff, just slowly.
#i'm speaking to a dead fandom but still lol. thought i'd disclose.#i've reached new levels of perfectionism with my art which prevents me from drawing or posting anything at all#and my writing has really changed in the last few years to the point where i don't feel a space for myself in fandom#not sure how to explain it i just don't feel like i really have a space on ao3 or tumblr or even discord. like i don't enjoy fandom -#- much anymore or any/all of the things that most people in the fandom enjoy.#not because of any drama or discourse that happened. i just genuinely feel like an outsider.#i'm still trying to get myself to write because i have so many unfinished projects i want to post#but at this point it's like. writing to a brick wall?#i don't want to be an author who stops posting because my works don't get enough interaction or whatever. the tog fandom -#- is in a quiet period. it's gonna happen. esp with the way fandom is nowadays.#so i don't want to do that to the people who actually read and love my work#i just want to express how hard it really is to keep writing when you 1) feel you don't belong in fandom / are an outsider#and 2) have next to no interaction on your works.#maybe it would be easier to write and post if my wips weren't all long. i think that's also part of it.#so to the people who actually reblog my art and take the time to comment on my fics: genuinely i appreciate you so so much.
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Having stumbled into like. Mild success with a few fics that were waaay canon divergent and get them praised for the worldbuilding I did makes it all the more bleh that anything else I do outside of that fandom is still just. Crickets.
I wish I was one of those artists/writers who can grab people with their style or creative ideas so people will give their wild ideas a try even if its not something that's their usual pairing/fandom...
#shut up tc#it doesn't help that my interests are really fucking niche usually#but it's like. a few friends have been encouraging me to write original fiction#especially when I was getting all those comments raving about how much they loved my writing and worldbuilding#but how could I draw people in to read my original ideas when I can't even make them consider#trying something that's not their usual pairing#even if they are familiar with the fandom#had a chat with someone today who's really disappointed that I haven't made progress on my sv fics lately#and honestly same. I want to continue those stories but my inspo is not there atm#I knew they are big on fantasy rpgs like bg and da and they play ff so I tried to. you know. maybe tempt them towards those stories I have#and they were like wow these ideas are crazy. they are so out there. I don't think anyone can makes these good I'd rather not waste my time#which hurt a lot ngl. like. they are not any more weird than whatever I did with In Tune#or Wolf#so I tried it like. hey you know how I write. don't you trust that *I* can make these ideas interesting enough to at least give them a try?#apparently not. haha haaa#maybe I didn't try to sell it the right way but#if I can't even get someone who's a relatively close acquaintance read my shit then what chance would I have doing og fiction?
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what's crazy to me is multiple times i've received encouragement to start drawing again, even when i mention that the only reason i've considered drawing again is as a desperate ploy for attention
but whenever i talk about my writing i either get ignored or told to "write for yourself"
like just tell me you don't value writing as an art form. it'll be easier than having to dance through whatever the fuck this is
#One's Notebook#me: yeah i think i might draw again specifically because i know people are more supportive of something that requires less power on their#part to consume and im really desperate for attention because despite participating in fandom for a decade i've never found a community#and i really would like to make some friends so i'm not alone all the time#someone: oh that's such a great reason to start drawing you should draw i support everyone learning how to draw!#me: hey i wrote this fic and i know it's not necessarily your favorite ship but i'd really appreciate if you read it/left a comment#someone: lol what kind of a fucking freak are you? i'm not going to waste my time reading something that isn't within my immediate interest#write for yourself how dare you even think to ask people to support your WRITING#venting#i'll probably delete this#it's just crazy to me how much people don't value writing at all but they won't admit it#i actually hate the “write for yourself” rhetoric now because it's only ever used to tear writers down#or for writers to tear themselves down before anyone else can#or worse#for writers to feel superior to other writers who are desperate little freaks who dared to want to share their creation
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girl help I’m experiencing
#weird addendum but pls don’t reblog my vent posts??? why would you even want to????#everything has been So Much lately and I wasn’t gonna vent but then I remembered this is my blog and I can do what I want#one of my best friends left the country last week and he’ll be gone for like two years and I’m so sad without him around#I mean he’s been messaging me every day since he left but it’s still hard not having him here yknow?#and I’m moving into his place but it requires a lot of work before I can so I’m always exhausted#and my joints have all but given out on me completely so I’m always covered in KT tape and braces#which doesn’t gel very well with moving furniture and heavy boxes#and I have no money so I need to be job searching but I can’t do that until I move. BUT I NEED MONEY TO MOVE#on top of that my grandpa died and there’s so much family drama involving that it’s unreal#and weirdly the thing I’ve recently felt bad about is I’ve been neglecting my self imposed Fandom Duties#maybe not fandom specifically but like. creative duties#I want to write fic. I want to draw. I want to read and comment on other people’s stuff#I also really want to do more of my non fandom writing because I want to get something published this year. but i got no good idea aaack#or early next year#and I’ve just had like. no time at all to do any of it and the time I have had I’ve been too drained to do it#ughghghghghghggh#I think today I will drink and try to write something. as a treat.#after I go on a reblog spree to bury this because emotions are very embarrassing#anyway how are you?
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I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS
#this has been happening for like TWO YEARS BUT I SWEAR TO GOD I AM TRYING.#my usual art motivation (my webcomic idea) has been put on hold for a bit and because of that i forgort... everything#my will to draw specifically#but in my defense i have been writing k*arlach / oc indulgences and i've been VERY focused on finishing it#i also got a marketing manager (my friend <3) to help with advertising my comms and stuff so uh... look forward 2 that#i might need to start posting all of my art on a sideblog so she doesn't have to log into my main though#so there might be some changes#but i promise i want to do art!!!! but there's always something to do first and then months pass :(#or i get the urge to draw and then life is like ''have a cancer scare'' lmao...#(ended up being cancerous actually </3 but because it's skin stuff it was easy to remove)#(but that really took the piss out of me for most of july... not to mention that ffxiv released a new expansion and i have been...#having a good time with my new friends doing content and stuff!) i also made a friend irl after like 3-4 years of total isolation#we feed ants and watch them move around together and comment on their behaviour patterns...#but like when i say this takes literal hours.#we just sit out there and talk about random shit and watch ants walk across the floor. both of us hate ants btw.#like we don't like having them ON us so it's a bit like playing with fire.#but anyways yeah i've also been really low energy recently too bc of the heat and burnout from college...#but the good news is that i'm transferring in fall to a much more relaxing college & courseload!#i'm hoping it'll stop me from feeling so... awful ?? i guess ??#like i was taking classes i didn't need to that were really difficult & punishing#not to mention extremely boring & hard to pay attention to when dealing with literally anything. i did not want to be there.#my next college is much more interest-oriented so i will finally be able to take classes i want to and learn from them...!#and then maybe i will feel a bit more in control of my life / more encouraged to draw#anyways thank u for reading my ramble. hoping it all comes together soon.#i need to do a lot of work but most of it is so i can sell commissions again#but once the karlach fic is done we're so back on the webcomic train !!!!!!!!
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ngl getting comments on fic is like hmmm maybe I should give this whole writing thing a try again....
#look I know I know I know 'comment on fic!!!' is a sentiment repeated often and enthusiastically but like#I don't think ppl who *don't* write really get how exhausting the writing process can be#like yes it's fun it's my hobby I love it#but like any hobby it can be an actual lot of work#kinda like any hobby. even plahing an instrument or drawing even just for fun takes *work* esp if you want to be any *good*#writing takes work. lots of time and effort. and the editing. my god.#if you want more fic to read you need to express even basic gratitude to the ppl writing it#I've gotten a few comments over the last few days and it's like aw... man.... I *do* really miss this#I still don't know if I've got any more fics in me. I am still struggling with feeling like I don't know how to do this anymore#or that I have already told the same story 45 times so why tell it again#but....#knowing ppl *have* enjoyed what I was able to write before? that's fckn incredible#erin explains it all
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An incomplete list of TMA fics I adore
-beacuse of this ask
(If you liked the fics I previously recommended/made fanart for, I think you'll gonna like these as well, but you know, read the tags, know what you are going into)
Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey @cirrus-grey
Time Travel Fix-it! Slow burn! So good! So much sass from future!Jon- I doubt I have to introduce anyone this amazing author, but if you somehow missed them till now, this is your time! I highly recommend all of their other fics as well, for example one of a more recent one, The Stranger I Know Best is also a lovely read.
enthralling by Prim_the_Amazing @primtheamazing
Vampire!Martin!! I have no words of how much I love this concept, this story, everything about this. I think I'm going to repeat myself through this list, but I also recommend everything else they've written!
to fill... my heart with music? by godshaper @godshaper so their Martin and Jon design are different from mine, also they made a way better art for this- but still, I wanted to include this really good fic in this list.
Do It All Anew by inkfingers_mcgee or @crit20art
You know the feeling when you read a book that makes you cry, and after that you recommend it to your friend? Well- there is no reason I mentioned this, I'm just so normal about this fic. Or any other fic from inkfingers_mcgee... like Strange Manner of what I made another fanart way back. Also, check out their art!
Anyway, here is Aamal- she is not going to cause emotional damage.
And they were sidekicks (oh my god, they were sidekicks) by arthureameslove @arthureameslove
A lighthearted series where Jon and Martin are sidekicks of supervillains- it's just a really fun fic, also recommend everyting from this author - I previously draw fanart here for an other fic of theirs Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home
neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well by saintbleeding @saintbleeding
To quote the aurthour: "Post-divorce Jon and Martin in a wedding-based romcom" It's such a comfort read, also has a Tim/Sasha wedding, and lots of cameos! I realised most of these authors I made fanarts for before- like this one for some kind of miraculous bind, this one is oneshot and a bit more serious in tone.
Give Me the Words by rakel @rakel-on-ao3
"Jon and Martin try to make the most of a bad situation in the Scottish Highlands. The situation is worse than they realised." You know that one post about wanting to write PWP, but it keeps turning into character study? Well, this one comes to my mind each time I see that.
i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy @transgenderboobs
So what would have happened if instead of the cot (tm), Jon offered Martin his own flat to stay? There is no way it's going to change their relationship, right? Such a good read, if you want some fluff, I highly recommend it!
Lucky Stars by magnetarmadda @magnetarmadda
Martin has a lovely family (except his mother) but still, he needs a fake boyfriend, and Jon comes to the rescue. It's one of the first fics I remember reading after I finished the series. It is such a comfort read of mine~
(+enjoy a rare tall Jon from me)
There are so many more fics that also deserve the spotlight, these are just the ones I read multiple times and/or didn't made fanarts for before. If you find something here you like, give them some love! Kudos and comments! They deserve it. (Also, just an extra disclamier some of these are PWP or rated T- just mind the tags)
I tried to link and tag everything, I hope it works.
#occudo's art#tma fanart#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#fic rec#so many fic!#thanks for every author who made all of these#and sorry if I forgot to include someone#I tried my best#but sometimes my goldfish memory wins#anyway#good reading!#if you find something here you like give them some love#comments and kudos#long post
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— CALM AFTER THE STORM
pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.
warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited
author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!
when he just has to be controversial
The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.
You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.
“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.
Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”
You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”
You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”
“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”
You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”
You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”
“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.
Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”
“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.
“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”
“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”
The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”
Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”
“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.
“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.
“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.
You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”
“I didn’t throw anything this time!”
2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye
Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.
You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.
Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.
The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.
“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”
She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.
“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”
Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.
“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”
“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.
Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”
“Mr Snape.”
“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”
“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”
You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.
“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”
“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”
Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.
The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.
Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.
Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”
“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”
“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”
“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”
“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”
At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”
“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.
“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.
Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”
“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”
Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.
The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.
“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”
He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”
“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”
“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”
It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.
3. when he's too good for flower crowns.
“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”
“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.
You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.
“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.
Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.
“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”
You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.
“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.
The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.
Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”
You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”
“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”
“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”
Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”
“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”
You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.
“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”
With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.
Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.
Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.
4. when he bleeds out on you.
You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.
If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.
You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.
“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.
“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”
“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.
“She was behind the sofa!”
James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”
“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”
“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”
He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”
While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.
“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.
You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”
Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.
“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.
“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”
“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”
Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”
“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”
“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”
Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”
“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?��
“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.
Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”
His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”
You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.
You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”
“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”
“Don’t laugh at me then!”
5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!
Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.
You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.
“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”
“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”
“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”
You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”
“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.
“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”
“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”
“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”
You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”
He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”
“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”
You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.
“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”
“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”
“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”
“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”
“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”
You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.
Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.
“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.
Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”
“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”
“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”
“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”
He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”
“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”
You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.
“See?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”
“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.
“No promises.”
© angelfic 2023.
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☆ , SATIVA ! — takami keigo, todoroki toya
⊹₊˚. a simple sesh with your two closest friends in the league of villains—hawks & dabi—quickly turns into something else once you start smoking too.
word count ★ 4.4k
warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, smoking weed, mfm threesome, very subtle dabihawks, unprotected sex, oral [f&m giving/receiving], creampies, hawks has a crush on you, wing play, spitroast, squirting, hawks is a lil submissive
xoxo, juno ★ created because of this ask! i had so much fun writing & i spent forever trying to do this idea justice and i seriously hope i did. first ever ‘long’ fic so i pray this doesn’t flop hahaha please give me some feedback and rb/comment if you liked it <33
the sun sinks low in the sky, peeking over the horizon and casting orange rays of light through the torn curtains hanging over the hallway windows. finally being off the clock and done with patrols is always rewarding in its own way, but this is different — you’ve been invited to hang out in one of the more private rooms in the villa.
dabi and hawks had always proved to be an interesting duo: one a hero, the other a villain. as if their positions in society weren’t enough to stop them from becoming friends of some kind, they shared very different interests, tastes, and quirks.
however, the only thing they could seem to agree on was you — the three of you were inseparable, spending time together often, despite having very opposite personalities.
“hawks?” your voice is hushed, awkward as you push open a dusty door, unsure of its location. “dabi? you guys are in here, right? you better not be fucking with—”
“oh relax.”
“we’re right here, dove,” hawks’ sugary sweet voice draws a loud gag from dabi, mustered from the very depths of his soul.
you huff, stepping in and slamming the door.
“it stinks in here, what the hell is that?”
“lock the door,” dabi vaguely gestures behind you, lifting one of his legs over the other as he leans against the bottom of the beat up couch. in his lap sits a copy of the hardcover hawks can’t seem to stop reading, the meta liberation army book. his darkened fingers carefully sprinkle a smelly substance into a rolling paper, and his eyebrows furrow as he focuses.
hawks sees the confusion on your face. “dabi’s making magic over there.”
“you owe me, hawks. damn fiend.”
“i am not a fiend!” the blonde snaps his head to the side, crossing his legs tightly. “you suggested it and i agreed. i’ll chip in for your efforts, though.”
dabi cackles, sealing his creation with a delicate swipe of his tongue against the paper. vermillion wings ruffle in shameless interest, gold eyes locked onto dabi’s hands. not wanting to be the only one standing, you take a seat on the old couch, both of them on either side on the floor below you.
with no encouragement necessary, dabi pushes what looks like a thick cigarette between his lips and lifts a finger to light it.
“what is that?” you ask curiously, gesturing towards his lips.
“‘s a joint,” he mumbles in reply, lighting the end of it with a small blue flame.
“don’t disintegrate it now, dabi.”
“fuck off, bird brain. as if i can’t control my quirk.”
dabi inhales deeply, taking a long drag on the joint before pulling it from his lips and passing it to the man on the other side of you. curiously, you watch as hawks takes a small inhale, then hands it back to dabi.
“pacing yourself this time? that’s new for you.” dabi remarks, sharp teeth gleaming as he smiles. hawks scoffs, staying quiet although he looks away awkwardly.
“you know what weed does?” dabi rolls the joint back and forth between his lips, looking up at you from his spot on the floor.
“i-i’m not sure, i���ve never tried it before,” your voice falters and you clear your throat, fidgeting with your fingers. “what does it do?”
“it’ll get you high,” hawks offers simply.
“it does way more than that,“ dabi shoots him a glare and shakes his head. “it’s relaxing. it’ll make you feel different, in a good way.”
he turns to the side and exhales smoke, then offers you the joint. “come on, princess,” you’re watching the wisps of smoke dissipate in the air behind him before your attention snaps back to dabi. “i, for one, think you’ll come to like it.”
“aw, don’t pressure her, dabi.” hawks takes the joint from dabi with a mild glare, and shakes his head as he slips it between his lips. crimson wings flutter as he takes a deep, long hit and fills his lungs with smoke. dabi watches with a smirk, unable to hold in his laughter when his body trembles and he starts to cough, spewing smoke from his nose and mouth.
“you’re only talking like that cause you’re not all that experienced either,” he scoffs, reaching to the side to grab a bottle of water, then tosses it to the other side of the couch.
tears from the intense coughing cascade down hawks’ flushed face as he sucks down the water, clearly embarrassed. truthfully, he’d been trying to show off a little, as well as unwind from a long day.
you take the joint from hawks before he drops it onto the carpet, then you hand it back to dabi, who shrugs. “if you really don’t want to, that’s fine, doll.”
you’re nervous, heart racing at the prospect of smoking with them. drinking liquor was always rare for you, and even when you did, you didn’t get anything more than tipsy. oftentimes you’d be wrangling hawks out of the sky and reminding him that smashing into a building while flying drunk would be a very bad look for him as a hero. he never seemed to care, though, and dabi didn’t either; he’d be equally drunk but less stupid, standing behind you and just laughing.
what if you took too much? what would you say? more importantly, what would you do?
dabi’s husky voice snaps you out of your thoughts. he offers you a smile full of faux sympathy, eyes pink and just a little shiny from the high.
“you’re just missing out.”
missing out? something about his words makes you squirm, thighs clenching. if you were to say no and leave, you’d miss seeing these two high. drunk was one thing, but high was another; you’d heard a few stories, here and there, about what weed could do. in most cases, people tend to stay the same as they usually are, although they may become a little more giggly. occasionally, weed could cause serious arousal. not to mention the date for the paranormal liberation war: it’s coming up, and hawks’ fate has been weighing heavily on your mind.
the definition of magnetic, you weren’t the first to gravitate to him; but you definitely ended up being one of the only people he actually spent the most time with. well, and dabi. closer than most friends, neither of you could even think about pulling away: what if this was one of the last times you could spend time together?
part of you feels like you’ll regret this, but you bite the bullet anyway, stammering, “uh, okay. yeah, i’ll try it.”
proudly, dabi scoots closer and hands you the joint. the smell is strong, and your nose crinkles as you lift it to your lips.
“be careful, you have to inhale a certain way—”hawks starts to say, seemingly recovered from his coughing fit, but dabi rolls his eyes at the hero’s concern. he fake gags once again, then sets his rough palm on your knee, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the hero.
“i’ll show you how, doll. i taught this dumbass but clearly he does indeed have a bird brain.”
“fuck off,” hawks grunts, leaning over to hit him lightly with a wing before slouching back to watch, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.
“bring it to your lips—right, just like that. so, you’ll need to inhale slowly because the smoke can be a bit overwhelming at first..”
you follow dabi’s instructions, closing your eyes as you take the smoke into your mouth, letting it pass through your windpipe and coil in your lungs for a moment.
“wait a second, then slowly blow it out through your mouth.”
your eyes open, and you look at the tendrils dissipating in front of you. beside you, hawks offers the half full bottle of water.
“good girl,” dabi chuckles, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch. dark, spiky hair sticks out in all directions, and hooded turquoise eyes observe you thoughtfully. “you’ll want to repeat that a few more times, alright? make sure you stop when you’re feeling it, it kicks in pretty quickly. don’t wanna overdo it, you’ll end up puking. i’m sure hawks can tell you all about that, huh?”
“dabi, seriously!” the vomiter in question whines, feathers puffing out as his blush darkens. “she doesn’t need to know about all that shit.”
it starts as a giggle, slips from your lips before you can stop it. then it’s a few, all at once. before you know it, you’re curling up and laughing so hard tears run down your face. from the corner of your eye, you notice hawks’ bewildered stare, which only makes you laugh harder.
“she’s definitely high,” dabi clicks his tongue, finding it difficult not to join in with you. hawks continues to stare, shifting in his spot on the floor as he takes in your laughter and smiling face.
maybe it’s the haze that’s taken over your brain, or the fog that’s settled in every corner of your body, but you find yourself slowly coming down from all the laughter, sliding down to the floor between them, joint between your fingers.
“you alright?” dabi pulls the joint from your grasp, sticks it into a nearby ashtray.
“my throat’s a little dry,” you rasp, overwhelmed by all the new sensations.
again, hawks hands you the water bottle, but this time he presses it into your hand. rather abruptly, you twist to the side and lean in, kissing dabi.
he makes absolutely no effort to stop you, parting his lips and letting your impatient tongue into his mouth while his rough hands wander beneath the hem of your shirt, palms dragging against your skin and only moving higher.
by the time you’re pulling away to breathe, he’s panting, eyes cast downwards at the carpet; just before his eyes meet yours, he remembers that the two of you aren’t alone.
heavy wings rustle behind you, the noise likely unintentional. when you turn back, hawks is watching, still cross-legged but now shamelessly pitching a tent in his pants.
”hawks,” you pant, body burning hot. eagerly, you beckon him over; there’s no hesitation crossing over his face when he slides towards you, squishing you between himself and dabi.
dabi watches quietly as you pull the hero into a kiss by the chin, insistent and everything but gentle. you’ve got him breathless against your lips, his wheezes pitched and clearly overwhelmed.
“alright, princess,” dabi scoffs, tugging you off the hero by your shirt and into his lap. “that’s not fair.”
he feels like he’s melting a little when your face falls, your expression becoming pathetic and sad in a way that’s utterly filthy.
“but, i-i want both of you.”
the two men look towards each other, sharing an unreadable look. hawks swallows nervously, “at the same time?”
“same hole?” dabi jokes, eyebrows shooting up when you nod to both of their questions. “well, shit. you heard her, bird brain.”
“on the couch,” hawks murmurs, patting a worn out cushion. on trembling legs, you stand and take a seat.
“nuh uh, on your knees,” dabi grunts, pushing you into position and settling behind your clothed ass.
meanwhile, hawks sits in front of you and pulls his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers. the outline of his thick cock is obvious, as is the shift of his hips as he awaits your touch.
saliva pools inside your mouth at the thought of having his cock down your throat, stretching it out and filling it up.
“off,” one simple word and his whole lower half is already fully naked.
“suck him off,” dabi’s arms wrap around your waist as he unbuttons your shorts and yanks them down to your knees. “and don’t you dare stop, or i will too.”
hawks guides his cock into your mouth, rising to his knees and cupping the back of your head. his face crumbles in pleasure, and he’s only pushing past your lips. “oh my god— fuck, your mouth’s perfect.”
his wings spread out behind him, crimson feathers quivering out of his control. “show off,” dabi mutters, pulling your panties down next. he watches your cunt closely, glossy strings of wetness stretching as your panties slide down your thighs.
“so fucking pretty, christ.” your pussy clenches from his words, his hot breath fanning over you and only adding to your anticipation. hawks stares, gold eyes honing in on rough hands and the way they grasp your plush skin.
“deeper,” hawks murmurs, head falling back as he pushes your head down further.
at the same time, dabi experimentally licks a long stripe down your pussy, the tip of his tongue dipping between your folds. the light stimulation combined with the sight and sound of hawks’ pleasure has your hips thrashing, bucking backwards for more.
“she’s real needy, huh?” dabi spits onto your cunt, a glob trailing down and dripping a little from your clit.
“looks like it,” hawks chuckles, lips moving into a pleased smile at the needy sounds you can’t stop making on his cock.
the air in the room is hot, thick with the scent of smoked weed and sex, heavy with shameless arousal. your head is cloudy, only full of thoughts of hawks and dabi. it’s like being shocked with electricity when your face is pressed into thick thighs, hawks’ cock pushing deep and causing you to choke. he grunts and starts to fuck your mouth, his thrusts carelessly deep. as if that wasn’t enough, dabi’s fingers push inside you and he attaches his lips to your clit.
“mmm,” he groans deeply, roughly tugging you backwards and into his face for more.
“does she taste good?” hawks huffs, his chest heaving. against your tongue, his cock throbs.
dabi smacks his lips behind you, then gifts your ass with a harsh slap. the sudden sting makes you moan, and he smirks.
“oh yeah. she’s so fuckin’ sweet, hawks.”
“tell me about it,” the hero gulps, his lower lip wobbling as he only grows closer to the bliss he’s been dreaming about.
“well, she’s real tight inside. sucked my fingers right in, didn’t you, princess?” to prove his point, dabi nudges two other fingers against your dripping entrance and you clench, greedy pussy begging to be stuffed full.
hawks nods, waiting for more.
“oh my god, i couldn’t even describe the taste,” dabi curls his fingers inside you, rubs your clit in methodic circles with the pad of his thumb. “‘s sweet, for sure. definitely a little sour.”
turquoise meets gold, and dabi watches hawks’ eyes roll back, wings spreading out and straining behind him, like an angel.
“you’ll have to taste it yourself, bird brain. i’m sure she’s more than willing.”
that’s all it takes to push the both of you over the edge — with a choked moan, hawks spills into your mouth, hips stuttering but still jerking forward sporadically. dabi pays close attention to the way you shake, pushing towards him for more but practically running away the second he touches your swollen clit.
dabi blames the heat in his cheeks on the weed.
“o-oh,” hawks fights back a whimper as he pulls his cock from your mouth, too sensitive to even speak.
“it’s so hot in here,” you whine, sitting up to pull your shirt and bra off. the bounce of your tits and perkiness of your nipples has dabi groaning, painfully hard.
“get the hell back on your knees.”
hawks sits and observes dabi, eyes focused on the way his fingertips run down your back and pause at your asscheeks, gripping the skin in an effort to ground himself.
he races to take his pants off, tossing them and his boxers to the floor in a hurry. he’s shaking when he lines his cock up with your entrance and shoves in, falling against your back with a loud hiss.
“holy shit,” he gasps, startled when he feels like cumming already. in a flash, hawks is in front of you again, stroking his fingers over the nape of your neck and shushing your pathetic whining.
hawks would be lying if he said he wouldn’t fuck you harder and make you sob.
“you can take it,” dabi grunts, clearing his throat to keep his voice from faltering. “it’s not you’ll be getting any breaks, doll.”
“that’s mean,” hawks says with a pout, fully hard and waiting for attention.
“shut it, bird brain. fuck her mouth again, why don’t you?”
“you heard him,” hawks shrugs, seemingly apologetic although he definitely isn’t. “open up, dove.”
his wings rustle and he groans as he pushes his cock into your mouth once again. dabi’s pace doesn’t falter, and he tugs you up a little to fuck his cock deeper.
“dabi!” you sob, his name muffled but still audible to both men, “right there, pleasepleaseplease—”
heavy balls smack into your clit with each thrust that you can feel in your lungs. even as dabi pulls you impossibly closer, it still isn’t enough to be fully satiating — what if you all shared each other like this on the regular?
“g-gonna cum soon,” you whimper, a few tears rolling down your face and forcefully falling from your jaw with every hard shove of hawks’ cock into your mouth.
electricity races through your entire body, shooting through your veins in stinging shocks as the pressure in your pelvis increases. then you feel rough skin and hot breath at the nape of your neck, along with a strong hand wrapping around your throat.
“what’s that, princess? you’re gonna cum?”
“yes, y-yes, ‘m gonna—”
“greedy, aren’t you? go ahead and wait for us.”
“i-i can’t,” you moan, eyes rolling back when dabi’s fingers dig into the sides of your neck, “i’m so fucking close, dabi, please—”
he pulls back, but before he returns to fucking you as he did before, he shoves your head down hard, only letting go once he hears you choke.
the room fills with needy groans and the hushed whimpers you keep letting out as you struggle to do as he’d asked. it’s as though hawks is facing the same predicament, a nervous hand tangled deep in blonde strands and tugging to keep himself grounded.
after what feels like an eternity, dabi finally keels over with a drawn out groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum,” the pace of his hips starts to falter and you’re less than a moment away from cumming yourself. “i’m gonna fucking—”
he cuts himself off by biting into your shoulder hard, just before you feel him gushing inside you, filling you to the brim. hawks pulls out of your mouth to take in the scene, and commit every detail to memory.
you fall over the edge with a mewl, gummy walls squeezing dabi’s cock and absolutely draining him. all you can do is moan beneath him, trembling from the strength of your second orgasm of the night.
it’s frustrating that he’s throbbing against your cervix and then pulling out immediately after, beckoning for hawks to come over. entirely spent, you collapse onto your belly, heart racing and breath coming in heavy puffs.
“god,” hawks all but groans at the sight of the mess between your legs — cum pouring from your cunt and smeared around your clit thanks to dabi. then, almost as though he’s hungry, “looks so fucking good.”
“hey now, turn over.” dabi offers you the half full bottle of water from earlier and chuckles at how quickly you open it and begin to chug. it’s gone in seconds, and the bottle falls to the ground with a crinkling sound. you sigh, exhausted and still high as hell — for a moment, you close your eyes.
“round three,” is all you hear before your legs are being spread open. your hole flutters at the prospect of some more, and you’re startled that you’re even considering it.
“i just came twice, hawks,” you cry, lower lip wobbling. a third round will most certainly break you.
with the pad of his thumb, dabi sweeps away a stray tear on your face. “let him fuck you once, yeah? god knows how damn long he’s been wanting to.”
“dabi,” the blonde whines, flushing pink. “stop it.”
with a sigh, he lifts his arms and pulls his shirt off for this final round, exposing the rest of his body. his nipples are a light pink, and he’s got a defined chest and abs with lines that look sharp enough to cut stone. he wiggles his eyebrows, eyes creasing at the corners once he notices you checking him out.
“like what you see?”
behind you, dabi rolls his eyes, but you spread your legs wider with a playful expression. “absolutely.”
thoughts of nothing besides fucking you full of his cum and making you his flare in his mind as he gathers dabi’s cum on the tip of his cock and pushes it inside you.
“o-oh,” hawks gulps down a whimper once he pushes inside, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a bruising kiss. as he pulls back, lips dragging against your cheek, you swear you hear him say something like feels better than i could’ve ever imagined.
“want me to mess around with your tits or use your mouth?” dabi rasps, cupping your chin and tilting your head to make you look up at him.
“do what you’d like to me,” your back arches off the couch after an experimentally deep thrust from the hero, your tits bouncing nicely from the movement. he takes one into his hands, squeezing the soft flesh but mostly focusing on the pebbled nipples.
with a tinkling sound, hawks’ gold chain bounces wildly at his neck. noticing your distraction, dabi slips his fingers beneath your chin and turns your head to face him.
“how’s it feel to be fucked like a slut?” he questions, pinching your nipple harshly; you moan loudly, tilting your head to the side, tongue lolling out of your mouth. dabi thinks the twisted expression of bliss on your face is so fucking hot.
“f-feels so fucking good—” you cut yourself off with a needy, pitched moan, bucking towards hawks and wrapping your legs around his waist. “fill me up, please, i need it.”
the hero chews on his lower lip, closing his eyes and choosing to lose himself in this perfect moment. behind his eyes, he feels the hot prickle of tears; is he really about to cry right now? out of bliss and in front of dabi? but the thought is whisked away the second he focuses on the sound of his balls smacking into your swollen clit.
it’s a mess between your spread legs, cum and spit and slick smeared across your skin and dripping onto the couch.
“fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this,” he grits his teeth, wings spreading out and beating the air hard, sending icy wind straight into your face and dabi’s. “b-been waiting to make you fall apart on my cock.”
“not to interrupt, but you’re blowing the mood out like a candle,” dabi bites, rising from his spot on the couch and stepping around crimson wings.
“don’t fucking start— dabi,” he gasps when he feels hot hands pulling his wings back into their usual resting position at his back. they tremble in his grip, stray feathers falling to the floor.
“sensitive there?” he roughly prods a finger between the feathers.
hawks ignores him although the answer is definitely yes, bending forward to wrap his arms around you and pull you as close as he can. the gold chain bumps against your sternum, and hawks buries his face in your shoulder with an embarrassing moan.
“i-i’m so close— dabi, rub her clit for me,” it takes a lot of strength not to stutter when his brain’s melting like this.
with a grunt of acknowledgement, dabi’s hand slips between your sweaty bodies, fingers pushing through your pubic hair as he searches for your clit.
“right here, doll?” he pinches the swollen bud and rolls it between two fingers.
“fuck yes,” you moan, hips jolting towards him.
he’s got a hand wrist deep in feathers, scratching lightly at the skin beneath, and the other sandwiched between you and hawks as he rubs your clit furiously.
“just like that,” you whimper, eyes meeting dabi’s, whose pupils are blown. against your neck, hawks chants your name like a prayer, lips dragging against your cheek when he pulls away for a moment.
“i’m gonna—” he groans loudly, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering against your own, “take it, take it all, fuck..” his voice nearly cracks as he finally lets go, pushing deep and shooting ropes of cum from his swollen cock.
hawks shudders, wings fanning out and pushing against dabi, who groans as he takes in the whole scene.
“cum hard for me, doll,” dabi urges, his sticky fingers maintaining the rough pace he’s had this whole time; a unique tightness swells in your pelvis, begging to be released. despite having been fucked dumb, you manage to register that something big is about to happen.
“dabi, d-dabi,” you sob, legs trembling and heels pushing hawks closer. “‘s coming, ‘s coming..”
dabi’s hand slips into blonde hair, and he yanks hard, pulling hawks’ head up so he can watch you fall apart.
it happens fast; you clench down on hawks’ cock, squeezing out a moan from deep within his chest. liquid sprays from your spasming cunt, soaking hawks’ pelvis and dabi’s fingers.
“‘s too much,” you cry out, a tear racing down your cheek when you feel dabi’s fingers dragging against your overly sensitive clit again.
“why don’t we see how fucking sloppy she is?” he groans, watching closely as hawks pulls out.
you can only whimper when cum gushes from your swollen cunt and someone’s fingers push it back in. you watch as the two men rise to their feet, still on your back and panting.
“t-this was perfect,” hawks tries to catch his breath, choking when his back is slapped. “minus you ripping my hair out and slapping me just now, damn it.”
“all for good reason,” dabi snickers, helping you to sit up. “you alright? that was a lot, heh.”
“i need to take a shower so bad.”
“let’s just relax before anyone leaves,” hawks says with a sigh, plopping down beside you.
“don’t tell me you get all soft after sex,” dabi stretches and pops his neck before he sits down on the other side of you.
“better than being hard,” he mutters in reply, gesturing to dabi’s boner.
the comment only makes him spread his legs and wrap an unbothered arm around you, knuckles brushing against hawks’ face.
“gotta do this again sometime,” you say, eyelids feeling heavy. “just like earlier, both of you at the same time.”
“same hole?” they both ask at once, more serious than they’d been before.
you wink at them, not so tired anymore.
“most definitely.”
#kurooh#pls don’t flop#mha smut#bnha smut#bnha x reader#mha x reader#hawks x reader#hawks smut#hawks x you#hawks x dabi#dabi smut#dabi x reader#dabi x you
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Wanting to write but the red tide has come and my head is just full of fog
#every sentence i write is like ????? like i get what i'm /trying/ to say but uuhh??#and the mood of this fic is all off...#wish i could be working on that long adventure / pseudo-mystery fic i planned out. but i think i have to gut it first.#using up every ounce of my energy writing my niche fics... ;_; oh well some people read them and leave very lovely comments#literally cried reading beautiful comments the other day so... <3333333#and there's so much i have to read and i also want to draw. man i am really in a slump lately that's not going away
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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝
*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.
• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.
• Word count: 2453.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx
You were going crazy.
His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.
They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.
Asshole.
“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.
“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.
Holy fuck.
You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.
He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.
He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.
And how could anyone blame him?
Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.
He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.
“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.
“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.
Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”
“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.
Had the temperatures suddenly risen?
Or were you just horny?
Probably the second option.
“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.
And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.
It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.
“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.
“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”
“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.
You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.
“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.
“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.
You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”
This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.
“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.
“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.
“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.
“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.
“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”
But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.
That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.
His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.
“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.
“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.
“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.
“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”
“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.
“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.
He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.
“That’s my good boy.”
He almost came from that sentence alone.
His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.
He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.
A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.
“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”
“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.
“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”
“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.
He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.
“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.
“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”
You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.
You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.
One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.
“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”
Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.
“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.
God you were so beautiful.
“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.
Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”
Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.
But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”
With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.
“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.
You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.
“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.
“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”
He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.
“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.
You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”
He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”
And man, had he kept his promise.
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Party Girl P - p.b
‣ Clingy Drunk Paige Bueckers x Reader (inspired by our favorite girl partying on Ice's live on 06/24/23)
‣ wc: 1476
‣‣ Synopsis: r and paige were roommates freshman year of college due to a mixup between the wbb team and wsoccer team and started their secret relationship as Paige recovered from her sophomore year injuries. (highkey might write more fics about this????) Up until now they've been able to keep their one-year ish relationship a secret, despite the rumors circulating the internet about the two of them.
‣‣‣ a/n: this is my first time writing a fic ESPECIALLY dialogue, not just on tumblr but like as a whole so any suggestions on my writing is highly welcome (you guys have no idea how hard x reader was to write because it was so confusing to write and kept breaking my brain bc i've NEVER done second pov) and also, the live’s timeline in this fic is not super accurate because it's lowk inspired by that one clip of paige and azzi maybe? kissing but i couldn’t find the whole video (i also just didn’t have the brainpower) so please bear w me 🙏🙏
You made your way over to Ice, leaning over shoulder with the sole intent of taking a sip of her drink. Before you could grasp the cup however, she slightly nudged you, drawing your attention to the live she had streaming from her phone.
“Oh my gosh I didn’t even notice yall, what’s up live,” You forgot about the drink as you rested your arm and chin on Ice’s shoulder, giving a small wave to greet the hundred people watching you from Ice’s screen. You were at Ted’s, the local bar, partying with the uconn women’s basketball team. Despite being part of the soccer team yourself, you were close friends with the entirety of the wbb team since your freshman year, growing even closer when you and Paige began dating last year.
You nodded your head and sang some of the lyrics to the music playing, silently reading the comments slowly rolling in and only addressing the more appropriate ones, despite being slightly tipsy you still had majority of your media training intact. You answered a few questions about random things while recharging your social battery with Ice, thanking those who gave compliments on your outfit or hair and stifling your laughs at the comments addressing Azzi drinking in the background or Paige yelling about shots.
Thinking of Paige, you realized you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a few minutes as you perked your head up to look for her.
The entire team knew the two of you were practically attached at the hip in general, making it nearly impossible for anyone to separate your drunk clingy selves from each other. You parted ways with Ice, wrapping your arm around the shoulder of your slightly taller girlfriend as you also reached for a shot off the bar top in front of the two of you.
Paige turned her head to the side as her arm wrapped around the sliver of exposed skin on your waist. "Hey baby I missed you" her slight intoxication showing in her voice as she leaned in to kiss your jaw in greeting. Her face was flushed and you could feel the heat radiating off her body as you settled into her embrace, her hair tickling the back of your neck as you conversed with the girls around you.
You remained in her arms for the short time you danced, sang, and drank with Paige, KK, Azzi, and Kayla, the younger girls hanging out on the other side of the bar with Aubrey, either on their phones or talking to each other as they weren’t old enough for the bar to serve them. You excused yourself from the group as you ordered a dirty shirley from the bar and made your way back over to Ice, wanting to rest your feet for a few moments and have your favorite drink in peace.
"Hey guys your favorite is back!" You weren't a lightweight by any means, usually being able to hold your drinks well, but the night had clearly made you a little louder and outgoing as you rapidly began flipping through random conversation topics with Ice and the live. It had only been a minute or two before you had exited the live's view after discarding your leather jacket over the chair and setting your drink on the table in front of you to head further in the corner of the bar to text a few of your soccer friends back on your phone as you leaned against the wall.
Paige came up behind Ice as she wrapped her arms around Ice's neck while singing to the phone, knowing that if you had removed yourself from the camera's view it was to have a few moments of peace and privacy while on your phone. She sang the rest of the song with Ice before leaving her to walk over to your standing figure, leaning against the wall next to you and pulling your body in front of her as you closed your phone and looked up at her. She wrapped her arms around your waist once again, but this time without your jacket acting as a barrier between your two bodies.
"Mmm, you smell so good baby," Paige mumbled as she laid sweet kisses up your neck, drawing small circles up and down your bare waist to your skirt-covered hip. Her small touches only added to the warm fuzzy feeling in your head, having you melt into her touch.
"Thank you P," you giggle softly while tilting your head slightly upwards so you could see her properly, "You having fun out there?" you smile at the grin that spreads across her face.
"It's been a while since we've all been able to go out together, it's nice spending time with everyone outside of practice, especially with you," she says the last part while gently knocking her forehead into yours.
It was true, the two of you had been so busy with your respective sports, finals, and social lives that you hadn't been able to go out and truly enjoy a stress and carefree night, especially considering the fact that your relationship was a secret to everyone outside of your teams and close friend group.
"Yeah well, we'll be able to spend a lot more time together now, starting tonight," you whisper into her suggestively while trying to contain your wide smile. Paige pulled back to allow her eyes to roam over your face before slowly trailing down the rest of your body.
"That, we most definitely will," She whispered back as she gripped your hips to pull you in for a slow and languid kiss, your hands automatically moving to rest one on her neck and one into her hair, kissing her back slowly.
"OH SHIT, I mean shoot, um anyways," The two of you pull back from your kiss at Ice's exclamation, looking over at her and Aubrey, who was now standing in the middle of you three, to see what was wrong. She muted the live and turned the camera over from her face as she waved you both over frantically. "I accidentally turned the camera to Aubrey and you guys were in the background but I don't think the live saw your guys's faces like actually kissing, it was mostly just paige's back and a bit of you and I'm not sure if," her frantic ramble continued on before you stopped her.
"It's fine, it's fine, if they didn't actually see my face and us two actually kissing it'll be fine, just ignore it," You reassured her, immediately feeling more sober than just a few minutes prior. "Paige and I will just go back over to some of the other girls and you can come over to us with the live to say bye and we'll just pretend it didn't happen okay?" You concluded to her while grabbing Paige's hand and interlinking your fingers.
"That's fine with you right P?" You turned to her, making sure she was okay with potentially just being outed on a tiktok live. "Yeah it's not a big deal, don't stress too hard Ice," she reassured while squeezing your hand. You walked away from your two friends hand in hand to stand at a quiet spot at the bar, making sure to double check again with Paige, but now without Ice and Aubrey present in the conversation.
"Are you sure you're alright Paige? I know you wanted to keep this a secret for a while longer and it's okay if you're not comfortable with our relationship being out in the open like this and," Paige cut you off before you could continue.
"Hey hey, as long as I'm with you, everything is okay," she looked you in the eye as she consoled you, "We can talk about what we wanna do about the public knowing moving forward, but for right now, I'm content just being here with you."
You smiled at her, your anxiety relieved that the incident wasn't something that would negatively impact the stability and peace your relationship with Paige had. You leaned forward into her body, allowing her arms to encircle you in a comforting and tight hug as she kissed the top of your head gently.
It was safe to say the rest of your time spent at the bar with Paige was more relaxing than before, the two of you swapping your drinks for water and replacing your energetic dancing for simply standing and spending time with the other girls. You both even made sure to reserve a small amount of distance between the your bodies when Ice had all of you say goodbye to her live. The team had all decided to pack up for the night shortly after, and you and Paige walked hand in hand together to your dorm, enjoying the cool breeze of the night.
thank you for reading all the way through and sorry if this was kinda booty i couldn't force myself to read all the way through and edit once i finished but i'm excited to keep writing and hopefully get better with each fic! also lmk if you guys wanna see more of this specific paige x reader prompt as mentioned at the top of the post!!!!
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#uconn lives#wcbb#wlw#paige x reader#wcbb x reader#paige x fem reader#paige buckets#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers fluff#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#wlw post#sapphic
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hii!! i’ve read some of your docs and they are just awesome !!
i wanted to ask you if you could write a fic (paring Spencer x fem!Reader) about the BAU chasing the unsub and they manage to catch him, tough he did fire some shots that didn’t hurt anyone except reader but reader doesn’t realise it until she starts to feel dizzy and feels her shirt wet only to find a gun wound on her side, spencer is really worried etc etc.. you know an hurt/comfort !! :3
sorry for my bad english 😞😞
take your time !! :33
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. hurt/comfort. reader gets shot. blood. reader using sexual jokes as a coping mechanism. a/n: unedited! set around season 12, bcos i just rewatched the s11 finale lol. i also took some creative liberties but i hope u still like this :) masterlist. requests are open !
There’s something Spencer always did before the team goes out to take down an unsub.
First, in the car, in the calm before a probable storm, he would take two fingers into the collar of your bulletproof vest. He’d tug on the back, checking the tightness of the straps while confined in the SUV’s backseat. And then, the same hand would run down your back. A comforting gesture that grounds him more than he’d admit. And lastly, he’d take your hand in his. Squeeze it three times in a silent ‘I love you’. He’ll wait for you to squeeze back, and your eyes would meet for a second, words unneeded as your gaze tells each other to take care.
It’s a routine done even before you officially got together. Tonight was different.
You were on the way back to the station after re-interviewing a witness with Rossi. You’re sat on the passenger seat, notepad in hand, attempting to arrange your thoughts on the case. A ringtone coming from the car speaker distracts you from your musings. Rossi reaches over to accept the call.
“Yeah, Hotch?”
“We found him. Garcia sent the location to your cells. You’re 20 minutes away from the address, but do not engage. Keep your distance and wait for the rest of us.” Hotch drops the call after you reply with an “On it, boss.” You flip a switch on the console, turning on the sirens.
“I still hate how loud these things are,” you make a passing comment.
Rossi spares you a glance, a bemused look in his eyes, “I haven’t gotten used to it either.”
You turn to reach for your vest behind the passenger seat. After putting it on, you triple check the straps. And then, you unholster your standard issue pistol, thumb on the catch, before you check your mag.
Rossi’s turning the corner while you holster your gun, reaching over, you turn off the siren. Based on the profile, this unsub will not hesitate to draw guns if met with law enforcement. Best not give him a heads up. A few blocks ahead, you see the bright neon sign of the motel the unsub is hiding in. Rossi shifts the SUV into a slow crawl. He stops a block away, a safe distance that still gave you a good vantage point of the motel. You keep a lookout, Rossi putting on his vest while your eyes pass over each entrance, exit, and window on the two-storey building. You notice movement on the first floor. A shadow behind a curtain on the second floor.
You’re starting to get antsy when the rest of the team, and the local cops arrive. You quickly open your door, walking toward where Hotch, Tara, and Spencer were huddled by the trunk of a precinct car.
“Are you attempting to negotiate?” Rossi asks from your side. Spencer’s eyes meet yours from where he’s hunched over a map. Embedding the floorplan into his mind. You watch his eyes rake over your body twice. Eyes running to each strap on your vest. Your heart warms at the gesture.
“He has hostages,” Hotch’s voice breaks your eye contact with Spencer. The sheriff walks toward your team, a megaphone in hand. Hotch thanks the sheriff, turns on the speaker, and begins to call out for the unsub.
“Bryan Masen! FBI! Come out with your hands above your head!”
You see the shadow shift on the second floor. And then, a loud bang. Bryan Masen has an assault rifle, shooting out of the windows of the motel lobby, while a second unsub shoots their own rifle from the second floor. In all the chaos of gunshots and screams, your mind rotates through three things; Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Where’s Spenc—
The following silence was deafening.
And then, a group of uniforms led by Hotch and JJ move in on the motel. You begin to stand, intending to join the second group of uniforms with Luke and Rossi. Subconsciously, your hand presses against your side. It’s warm. And wet. You take one step forward. Hear Spencer call out your name. And then, it all turns black.
Spencer’s hands won’t stop shaking. He stares at it. The red on his palms. It’s drying, and all he can do is stare blankly at it. His knee jerks. It won’t stop. He feels a hand on his shoulder. Heavy. Comforting. Unwanted. He hears Luke ask him if he needed anything. He can’t hear his own reply. Hunched over his bloodied hands, he sees the boots peeking between his fingers. Black. Leather. Heeled. JJ tries to get him to wash his hands. He feels hands guide him to a sink. That same hand on his shoulder leaving when smaller hands take his in their own. The water is cold between his fingers. The hand scrubbing his knuckles is warm. He can’t afford to look away. Can’t risk his eyes closing for more than a blink. He needed to be distracted by something. Knowing that if mind was preoccupied by any other menial thing, he won’t be forced to see your body falling onto the sandy ground. Over and over. The scream in his throat. The thud. The frantic hands. Red, red, red. Pale lips and eyes closed. Over and over.
He has half a mind to stop JJ from cleaning his hands. But then, the faucet turns off. Paper towels are pressed into his hands, and JJ guides him back to where the rest of the team are waiting. Their silence tells him that there hasn’t been anything new. He falls into a chair. Numbers. Statistics. That can help him focus on something else.
The number of GSWs treated per biennium increased from 1,349 in 1996-1997 to 1,484 in 2014-2015, with a 59% increase occurring from 2010-2011 to 2014-2015. Overall mortality was 14.6%—
An unfamiliar name calls out your name.
He stands before anyone else can react. Like a wolf descending on a prey, he begins a barrage of questions; “Where is she? Is she okay? Is she ali—”
“She alive and well. The shrapnel missed any major arteries, and we were able to take every fragment out. Major bruising around her ribs. She’s currently sedated, but you can come and see her.”
Spencer bites back an attempt to snap, wanting to raise his voice and demand that they bring him to her already. But he doubts you’d let him get away with such a behavior. And so he silently follows after the doctor, fists pressed against his sides, thumb popping a knuckle.
When he enters your room, it’s dimly lit. But he can see your face, and the bruise on your cheek from when you fell unconscious. His eyes take you in, every inch of you. The hair pulled behind your ears. The medical gown covering pallor skin. The tube connected to the crook of your elbow. He reaches a hand out, smoothing your hair, before taking a deep breath in. He remembers your comment about the smell of hospitals.
“I’ll stay with her,” he mumbles. Two fingers pushing down the collar of your hospital gown. You don’t like it when your clothes bunch up around your neck. His fingers subconsciously move to trace the side of your throat. Moving to feel the beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips.
“I’ll bring your bags back in an hour,” he nods once to acknowledge JJ’s words.
“Thank you,” he coughs away the lump in his throat. You’re alive. You’ll be awake in a few hours. You can go home by the end of the week. He forces himself to feel optimistic.
“Get some rest if you can, Reid,” Hotch speaks from where he’s standing nearest to the door.
He nods, opting not to say anything. Unable to make promises.
Your eyes are heavy when you come to. You can feel the crust on your lids. The cool of the AC against your cheek. Slowly, you open your eyes. There’s a painting of a grassy field on the wall in front of you. You turn your head. Spencer has his socked feet up on the armchair. Curling into himself to fit better. He has his focus on your copy of Pride and Prejudice. You can tell it’s yours by the sticky tabs peeking between the pages.
“Spence?” your voice is throaty and hoarse. Struggling to crawl out. He still hears it, anyway.
“Oh, baby,” he drops your book on the chair, moving to sit by your side. His forehead presses against yours, his hands cup your jaw. Spencer presses a kiss on the apple of your cheek.
“You scared me,” he confesses with a whisper.
“I’m okay now,” you bring a hand into his hair. He moves his kisses down to your jaw.
“I was so afraid of losing you.”
You take his kisses as he freely gives them. He hides his face into your neck, kissing where it meets your shoulder. You move your hand down to scratch where his hair ends before his nape. “You could never get rid of me,” you say with a small smile. He presses a kiss where your neck meets your ear.
Right hand on your cheek, left hand going down to grip the flesh below your scapula. Slender thumb and finger pinching the softness behind your armpit. He breathes in the scent of you. Your hand starts to massage the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet. You know that he feels heavy there whenever he gets stressed out. You want to crack a joke at how tense he is, but keep it in and choose to give him comfort instead.
“I love you,” his lips whisper against your skin.
You sigh, the sound making him look up to meet your eyes.
“I was so scared too,” it was your turn to confess.
“You’re okay. We’re both okay,” he moves his hands to take yours into his. You squeeze his hands thrice.
“I asked Hotch to give me time off while you’re on medical leave.”
“You did?”
He squeezes your hand back. Three times like you both always have, and always will.
“I also had to call your family,”
He watches you grimace, “How did they take it?” He gives you a slight wince of a smile.
You let out a sigh, “I’ll call them in a bit.”
“Your mom is taking a flight to Washington,” he informs you.
“That sucks. We won’t have the house to ourselves for at least a month.”
He raises a brow at you, “Why would it matter? You’re not allowed any strenuous activity for three.”
You give Spencer a little pout, chastised that he easily called you out, “That’s just mean.”
He gives you a withering look, “Behave.” He gives you one more kiss on the cheek, moving to stand from your bed. He has to tell the team you’re awake. Taking your phone from the end table, he begins to draft a text.
“I still have my hands, you know.”
He turns to you, caught off guard. Disbelief painting his features.
“You did not just say that,” he says.
You stick a tongue out.
“Stop it. You’re injured,” he says with a slight reprimand.
“So? That didn’t stop us when your knee got shot.”
His mouth falls open, “I can’t believe you.”
“Three months is just a recommendation. You would know.”
You grin at the blush that takes over his face.
taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna please feel free to send an ask to be added to my general taglist!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid imagines#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff
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