#andie's writing

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.

Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.

It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.

The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans. 

Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.

The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife. 

It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly. 

The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.

You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.

Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.

“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”

A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.

“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”

A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.

“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.

An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.

“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.

Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”

Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.

“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”

Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone. 

“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”

You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.

A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.

You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.

“Nonsense,” you sniff. 

A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”

Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”

Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.

“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.

Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”

A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”

Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”

A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”

You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”

Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.

“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.

You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable. 

“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”

Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.

“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”

“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.

“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”

Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.

“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”

You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.

“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.

Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is. 

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.

And then his mouth is pressed to yours. 

It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.

Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.

“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.

The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.

“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss. 

Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”

“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?

Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”

You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.

Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.

“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”

You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.

“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”

Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.

Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”

You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?

“I—really?” you ask.

Bakugou nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.

“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.

Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.

“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.

You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.

You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain. 

“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”

You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.

“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts. 

“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”

Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.

And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.

“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.

Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.

He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.

“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”

“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.

And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.

Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”

You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.

He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.

It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.

“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.

“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.

You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.

The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.

He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.

It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.

The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.

“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”

Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.

His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.

Apt, for a general.

“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.

You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.

Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.

“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.

“Not done yet, angel?” he says.

“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.

Your stomach flutters.

“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into. 

“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 take her under your wing AU 」

warnings: innocent!reader x various, stepbro!steve rogers, bucky barnes, professor!peter parker, professor!reed richards, ari levinson, marc spector, ransom drysdale, curtis everett, lloyd hansen, andy barber, thor odinson, scott lang, miguel o'hara, frank castle, billy russo, dark content, essentially everyone is soft!dark, college au, polyamory, idk what to tell you this is just porn

polls for this au

asks about the au

101, an intro to the au | pinterest board

masterlist | join my taglist 

FICS:

the many firsts

something in return

locked out

i dare you

what i say goes

too big (coming soon)

REQUESTS:

gaming + intox kink (headcanons)

billy & frank catch you discovering billy’s toy collection (headcanons)

desperate to help (headcanons)

curtis helps you fall asleep (headcanons)

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

tttyg era where vampire pete finds ybcpatrick and takes him home. sees a fucked up kid and goes. hm you're mine now:) sing in my emo band boy

[puck-luck]

Hi, girly. I hope I find you fine.

I'd like to make a request with Quinn. Could you write something where reader is feeling down, like after a day of dealing with friends/family drama and she is just drained, plus they are at the lake house and yk all the boys are there but she doesn't feel like having dinner or hanging out with them, she just wants to cuddle and recharge and Q just excuses himself to be with her and hopefully makes her feel better.

Thank you so much 💓

warnings: cockwarming. that's IT. other than that, it's just domestic bliss.

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1,229

note: thank you @skylershines for requesting this! sorry it took me a while to finish :,) this ask wasn't inherently sexual, but since i am a smut writer, i had to throw in a sexual element or two. i am not THE fluff girl on tumblr dot com LOL but love you girly

The boys are downstairs making a ruckus about something. You’re starting to wonder if they ever tire themselves out, or if they’re always full of energy like this. The day has been long and chock-full of activities and you’re… rather exhausted.

Maybe it’s because of all the sun you soaked up on the boat that’s making you sleepy. Maybe it’s the swimming you did or the wine with the big, filling, home-cooked meal that Quinn made. Maybe it’s from the flight from Vancouver to Michigan two days ago that’s making you so tired. Maybe it’s the knowledge that you’re working from home– Quinn’s home– tomorrow and you can’t dedicate all your time to the fun happenings in the vacation home.

All in all, you don’t know what the root of your exhaustion is, but you know that there’s no way you want to leave this bed again today. You’re due for a good rot. You’ve got a book in hand and you’re all tucked in beneath the covers and the fact that it’s only 7:30pm doesn’t matter to you one bit. The sun hasn’t even started to set, but here you are, ready for bed.

Between the lines in your book, you can piece together what the boys are talking about downstairs. Trevor wants a bonfire. Jack and Luke want to go wakesurfing. Alex doesn’t care, but he wants someone to make a decision. Cole wants to stay in and play ping pong. You’re secretly hoping that the fact that you can’t really hear your boyfriend arguing with his brothers and friends means that he’ll be coming upstairs to join you soon.

It isn’t long before you hear feetsteps padding up the stairs and making their way towards the bedroom you share with Quinn. You continue reading, paying no mind to the man entering the room, but there’s a hint of a smile on your face. 

“Hey,” Quinn greets in a low, relaxed tone. He kisses the top of your head, hovering by your side of the bed. “The boys want to do something. Are you up for it?”

Not really. “What do they want to do?” you ask, not sure if they’d come to an agreement by the time Quinn joined you upstairs. You don’t really want to join the boys, but you don’t want to seem like a spoilsport during your first trip to the lakehouse. Being a recluse won’t get you any favors, no matter how much Quinn likes you. You might be able to go downstairs and sit by a bonfire or watch from the couch while the boys play ping pong. Sitting on the boat wouldn’t be that bad, but you’d have to change out of your pajamas (a cute little slip that you packed just for Quinn). You also know that “one hour on the boat” never actually means one hour on the boat. It always stretches into two or three. So, really, you’d rather stay in.

“Thinking about going out on the boat,” Quinn replies, because you’re really not that lucky when it comes down to it.

Again, you’re faced with a dilemma: you can go with them and feel tired and cranky or you can stay here and feel like you’re not being a good girlfriend by joining the group. There’s not really a good option. At least in this bed, you’ll be warm.

“I kind of just want to stay in bed, if that’s okay,” you tell Quinn with a small shrug. “But I don’t want them to think that I’m boring or anything. I’m just tired.”

Quinn lets out a laugh. “They don’t think you’re boring. Are you okay, though? I know your ‘just tired’ can mean something else sometimes.”

He’s so sweet. You’ve been with Quinn less than a year, but he’s still managed to note your idiosyncrasies and moods perfectly. “I’m okay, sweet boy.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

A wave of affection passes through you. “Do what you want, Q. You choose. I won’t say no to cuddling you all night, but don’t stay on my account.”

“Just let me tell the guys to go without me,” Quinn replies. He leans down and meets your lips. “Then I’ll be back.”

He departs, but his return is quick. He brings his own book and gets into his pajamas– nothing but his boxer shorts– before joining you under the covers. Quinn throws an arm over your shoulders and opens his book, settling in.

You read together in silence for a little while. You start to get bored and allow yourself two more chapters– after checking to see just how long those chapters were, six and eight pages respectively– before you close your book and set it on the nightstand. You slide down the bed a bit, wrapping your arm around Quinn’s waist and squishing your cheek against his chest. 

Quinn rubs your arm. “Sleepy, babe?” he asks.

You hum, turning your face into his bare skin and planting a kiss there. “You’re warm.”

Quinn breathes out a laugh. He pulls you closer; you’re practically on his lap now. You might as well finish the job and get comfortable, so you straddle Quinn and bury your face in his neck, kissing the skin there. Quinn brings his hand to your back and runs his fingers up and down the expanse of it in soothing motions. 

It tickles at first, making you squirm. After a minute or so, you relax into the touch– and a few minutes after that, you find yourself grinding down against Quinn’s rapidly-filling cock.

“Quinn,” you murmur in his ear. You pull back and meet his eyes, trying to convey what you want with just a look. 

You don’t want much. You’re still tired and drained from the day, completely washed out from the swimming and boating and sunbathing you’d been thinking of earlier. All you want is to have Quinn close.

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod. He sets his book aside and encourages you to kneel up just enough that he can slide the waistband of his boxers down and free his cock. 

Greedily, you try to grind against his shaft as soon as it’s free, but Quinn halts you with a soft touch from his free hand. 

He fists the base of his cock and pulls the crotch of your panties to the side, using the pads of his deft fingers to spread your folds. His eyes are hooded and loving as his tip breaches your hole, and he starts to smile when you sink down and settle against him. 

“Oh,” you breathe out once you take him fully, clenching down and loosening your grip on his cock a few times before melting into Quinn. 

“Sweet girl,” Quinn praises in the tone that’s just for you. He plants his hands on your hips and kisses your lips.

Neither of you make an effort to move. In fact, you find yourself growing very drowsy in Quinn’s comforting arms. His distinct, tender touch has your head lulling forward, falling against his shoulder. Quinn breathes deeply and you follow, matching him. The smell of his bodywash fills your nose and you close your eyes, taking another breath.

It’s not inherently sexual, having Quinn’s cock inside you and his lips on your skin. It is, however, exactly what you needed after such an exhausting day.

[kidovna]

from this fic by @andiwriteordie

[fandomfloozy]

nsfw mdni

watching jason todd work on his motorcycle be like...

jason: what?

y/n: just lookin'

jason: you look like you got something to say

y/n: [shakes head] mm-mm

jason: you sure?

y/n: ...well...

jason: tell me

y/n: mmmm... no, it's too embarrassing

jason: pfft. you? embarrassed?

y/n: perish the thought

jason: so lay it on me

y/n: oh, i'll lay something on you

jason: babe...

y/n: jaybird, i don't mean to be crass but--

jason: sweetheart, just spit it out--

y/n: i wanna suck your dick so bad

jason: ...

jason: /////// jesus christ...

~°•*~

A/N: something about a man all greased up and sweaty while working on machinery uwu

[sugarwarachan]

Hihi helloo! Could I maybe request ab-riding with shinso or bakugo or kirishima? Sorry if this is a oddball request, I really love your work ❤️

oh ceci you awoke something in me here I could have written about any one of them but I went with the one who hardens in more ways than one lololol

wrote this in like 20 minutes oops

ab riding - ft. eijirou kirishima. nsfw - mdni

Kirishima has a suspicion you’re really into his abs.

He’s never voiced it out loud before, mostly because he’s worried that it will come across as unbelievably conceited, but whenever you’re cuddling on the couch or in bed, he knows your hands will inevitably sneak under his shirt to trace the ridges in his stomach.

Until one day he comes out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, water trickling down his frame, and he watches your eyes track its descent with something bordering on feral.

"See something you like, baby?" He flexes, grins when you bite your lip and nod.

Fuck. He likes how strong he is, and he loves that you like it, too.

He scoops you up easily and puts you both on the bed, your legs on either side of his. You’re dressed for bed; the nightie is one he bought for you last week. He growls out his approval into the soft skin of your neck.

"Why do you think I work so hard on these, pretty girl?"

He leans back and bucks up his hips to shift you forward. You squeak at being jostled up, hands falling to his chest to support yourself; the sound you make when your pussy slides over his abs is sinful.

"I might think about this just as much as you do, baby." He grabs the fat of your hips and drags you up and down his stomach, bunching the muscles under you. "Shit, pussy’s fucking soaked already."

"Kiri—fuck." He loves getting you like this, making you this fucking drunk over just his abs. “Feels so good, how do you always feel so good?”

“Want me to make ‘em a little harder, baby?”

He smirks when you fall forward and bite down on his collarbone with obvious need. Your pussy coats his lower stomach in your arousal. Kirishima knows you’re close and the revelation makes his hips buck, cock jutting against the swell of your ass.

"Just lean forward just a little bit, there ya go, there’s my girl." The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he figures hardening the muscles just enough under your clit will help you get the friction you like. "Let me see you cum all over my stomach, baby. Yeah, that's fucking perfect, show me how much you like 'em."

As soon as you sob out your release, he's rolling you under him to plug up your still-twitching hole with his cock—

[quotefeeling]

When people are ready they change. They never do it before then, and sometimes they die before they get around to it. You can’t make them change if they don’t want to, just like when they do want to, you can’t stop them.

Andy Warhol

[jaehyvno]

thinking about bf!haechan who loves reminding people you're his. bf!haechan who doesn't really get jealous, but also is possessive. bf!haechan who tells you "dress however you want baby, i'll fight off the creeps for you". bf!haechan who brings you to a party, and introduces you to all his friends. bf!haechan who shows you off smugly, finding people that admire you more amusing than threatening. he doesn't leave you alone for a moment, side glued to yours, and hand glued to your waist. sometime during the party, he pulls you to the side and fixes your clothes for you. you smile at the innocent enough action, not knowing he just wanted to make sure the 'h' necklace you're wearing is visible enough. bf!haechan who brings you a drink but doesn't give it to you. slaps off your hands, and instead takes a hold of your chin to tilt your head back. "say 'ah'," he says with a shit eating grin, as he tips the drink down your throat, knowing anyone that had their eye on you tonight would know not that he's not playing when it comes to you. bf!haechan who pouts when you call him out on his behavior the whole day and says, "i can't help the fact that everyone wants you, but i can let them know that you're mine, can't i?

also thinking of bf!haechan who doesn't hesitate to let people know he's yours. bf!haechan who flashes the matching rings he got for the two of you at anyone who tries flirting with him, claiming he's married. bf!haechan who says “my partner kills people. get away!” to your utmost annoyance and amusement. who lets you do his nails and gets your initials on them. who parades around with you as his lockscreen and homescreen. who's social media is just a shrine for you. bf!haechan who just smiles when his friends tease him, claiming that he's wrapped around your finger. bf!haechan who brags about you to anyone who is willing (or unwilling) to listen. who goes on and on about you until every single person he's associated with knows that he's taken and in a committed relationship with you.

a/n: this was literally fueled by my need to put something out on this account since i post nothing here :( and also a singular haechan clip from the momentum tour's bangkok stop. i am actually so down bad for haechan it's crazy. requests/asks and taglist is open <3

[chronicowboy]

i love that andy weir never kills his protagonists. it would be so easy to. at so many points. by all means they Should be dead. mark gets stranded on mars and the planet works against him at every turn. jazz's suit fails on the surface of the moon and she feels herself begin to die. ryland is sent on a suicide mission then gives up his chance at return for his friend. they should all have died. multiple times in some cases. but they don't!!! because weir isn't writing tragedies, he's writing stories of hope and humanity. they survive even when it should be impossible for them to because of connection. simple as that.

[thnksfrthpoison]

I listened to Fall Out Boy once and all I got was this stupid obsession about four boys from Chiacgo.

[andypantsx3]

thinking about a beach vacation with shouto.

he is distractingly handsome in his well-fitting board shorts, and even more so when he shucks his shirt and wants you to put his sunscreen on him yourself. then he promptly falls asleep in the sun, only rousing when you nudge him to rotate so he doesn't burn too badly on one side. he's unbearably beautiful, all that taught muscle stretched out in the sunlight, long lashes fanning the tops of his cheeks, his breath coming as slow and steady as the waves.

he wakes long enough to decimate all your beach snacks and let you reapply his sunscreen, before following you into the water and floating contentedly next to you. he falls back asleep on the towels when you come back in, his wet skin glittering in the sun, droplets sliding enticingly into the divots of his adonis belt before evaporating in the heat. you're ostensibly reading, but you keep getting distracted by the sight of him, marveling at how one person could be so lovely.

he helps you pack up when it's time to go back up to the hotel, his long fingers gently brushing sand from your skin. when you want to shower off the sand he follows you in and fucks you against the cool tile, kissing you slow and sweet beneath the shower spray. he takes you again when you insist on applying aloe, groaning under your hands and hitching you up over his waist.

you manage to leave the room just long enough to scrounge up a meal, but you're unwrapped and pressed down into the mattress as soon as you're back through the door again. shouto's skin is hot, almost feverish, and yours is too with the beginnings of a sunburn despite your best efforts, and it's a searing contrast against the cool of your room's air conditioning. shouto tastes fruity, like the drink he had at dinner, and he makes your head spin exactly like a cocktail himself.

you're slick with sweat by the time he's done with you, shivering as it cools against your skin and you think you should shower again. but shouto pins you against him with a strong arm over your waist, and falls asleep with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. you can't bear to disturb him, then, and the heat of him against you lulls you to sleep too.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

what i say goes

a/n: ...i didn't really mean for this to turn out so cum focused, but oh well, it's not like i'm complaining about the result, it's stupid hot, it was just kind of an accident lol. whoops, welcome to cum city i guess. apparently i am your mayor. 

summary: sucking in a sharp breath, your weary head lifted slightly to make out in the low light, streaming in from the hallway through the open door, who it instead could be that had stirred you from your dreams because they couldn’t resist having a midnight snack. 

warnings: frat!ari levinson x innocent!reader x frat!andy barber, stepbro!steve rogers, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, college au, polyamory, kissing, corruption kink, somno, fucking while someone else is alseep in the bed right next to them, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm control, orgasm denial, edging, squirting, impact play, pain kink, oral, fingering, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 4294

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

A strangled whine crawled its way out of your lungs as you were drawn out of your slumber. Half asleep, it took you a while to realise that the sensation tickling at your core wasn’t a part of some dream. Goosebumps prickled your flesh as you noticed the duvet had been peeled from your naked form.

“S-Steve…” you hazily slurred, eyes still shut as your legs faintly shifted against the burly form, slotted in between them. A hot mouth was latched on your clit, still all sensitive and swollen how your stepbrother had railed you to sleep. 

As he sucked down harder, his beard rubbing your petals raw, your quivering hole clenched around nothing, causing another drop to leak out of the cum Steve had greedily filled you up with before he’d flopped down on the bed beside you and passed out nearly as quickly as you had.  

Though as his silky tongue swirled over your puffy pearl, sloppily making out with your sore cunt, your tired eyes finally blinked open, just enough for you to vaguely take in the dark surroundings of Steve’s room. But then when your head began to tilt to the side, twisting on the pillow from the scorching kisses smothering your tiny bundle of aching nerves, your squinted vision landed on your stepbrother, still softly snoring on the mattress beside you.

Sucking in a sharp breath, your weary head lifted slightly to make out in the low light, streaming in from the hallway through the open door, who it instead could be that had stirred you from your dreams because they couldn’t resist having a midnight snack. 

Your cunt immediately throbbed beneath his ravenous tongue as your gaze discovered that the man lying on his stomach, snugly between your thighs, was none other than the president of the fraternity. 

However, as soon as his eyes found your panicked ones in the dark, the quick reflexes that had made him a legend on the football field allowed him to then soar up and clasp a broad hand over your lips. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he swiftly hissed, his eyes scanning your own as you panted behind his palm. Hovering above you, he murmured, “don’t scream, okay?” before a faint nod then slowly tilted your head. 

“…Ari?” you whispered when he then slowly slipped his hand from your mouth, “wh-what are you doing?” 

“Doing my taxes,” his eyes on you promptly narrowed brashly to a squint, “what do you think I’m doing?” 

Shifting carefully to glance back over at Steve sleeping directly next to you both, you muttered, “but–”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Ari arrogantly cut in. 

“What?” you still struggled to comprehend the reality you’d woken up to, “I–”

“Hey, I am in charge around here,” he caught your chin and tilted your head back, forcing your wide eyes back upon him, “what I say goes, so I can do anything I fucking want, and what I want, is you,” he gazed down at you as if you were the only two in the bed, “and I say that your big stepbrother has kept you to himself for way too long. So what if he said that none of us could have you yet.” 

“He did what?” you gasped, your eyes briefly flying back to Steve’s broad back twisted towards you. 

“Oh, he’s just being greedy,” a shiver ran down your spine as he then pushed himself up to sit back on his knees, before his fingers then caught the waistband of his boxers, and he tugged them down enough for his hard cock to spring free of its binds and smack into his lower abs, “just don’t tell him… not that I think he’d actually do anything about it, I mean, what would he do? Deny his president? Not in a million fucking years. He knows better than to say no to me.” 

“…but what if Steve gets mad at me…” you blinked up at him as your stomach threatened to coil into aching knots. 

A bright grin then twisted up his features as he peered down at you, his girth throbbing in his grasp as he purred, “who in their right mind could ever be mad at you, huh?” before he then tilted closer and dragged the bulbous tip of him through the glistening seam of your cunt, making you whine softly into the night. 

“Alright,” you panted, “but just please be gentle,” your eyes flickered down to catch sight of his dick nudging against your puffy pussy, “I’m still really sore…” 

“Really?” a dark chuckle quietly slipped from his lips, “because to me, it looks like she wants it rough. She wants me to be mean to her, bully her so good, just like she deserves,” he smirked at the way that you squirmed as he tapped the weight of him against your petals, before then sweeping down to smear against the cream still slowly leaking out of your wrecked fuckhole, “look at that… shit, he sure did leave you fucking messy…” 

“B-but–, ah!” he narrowly managed to cover your mouth again as he suddenly slammed the entirety of his length inside of you, using the sticky load already inside of you as lube. 

“See?” a sickening squelch echoed throughout your stepbrother’s room as Ari then brashly rolled his hips, “doesn’t that feel better?” 

As you struggled to wrangle the moan that his impulsivity had forced out of your lungs, you tugged his hand away from your lips, just enough for you to squeak breathlessly, “o-oh my g-god! A-Ari! It’s too–, fuck!” 

But your whining only made him smirk as he continued to stare down at how you clenched around his fat girth, “damn, I thought you’d already been broken in! Apparently not good enough,” he then snapped his hips with more force, fucking through your tightness. 

“It's so much, it’s too much–” 

“Shh, shut up,” he clambered a palm back over your mouth as moans began to bubble up your throat, “be fucking quiet and take it,” he growled as he sloped down over you till his lips nearly skimmed against the back of his own hand, firmly clasped over the lower half of your face, “toys don’t talk.” 

You could barely keep your eyes open as your body jostled on the mattress at the rhythm of his greedy pace. 

“Holy fucking shit, you’re fucking strangling me here… gonna make me cum in no time,” he groaned, “such a perfect little pussy. What is this, your third time–, maybe fourth, that a cock’s stretched this tiny baby cunt out?” he croaked before you shakily held up six of your fingers in the sliver of space between you, “oh, this is only your number six, huh? He’s fucked you five times already and you still feel like this? Damn…” his hefty balls smack against your slick skin, “and you just let your big stepbro cum inside of your pretty pussy too, fuck… pump you full of cum… you gonna let me do that too, huh? Yeah, you are, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll fuck his load out of you first, before I fill you up…” 

Ari then abruptly pulled out only to smack the palm, that wasn’t plastered against your mouth, down upon your messy pussy, repeating the swift action till you were dripping even more and he then once more buried himself in your warmth. Though after the harsh stings, once his thick dick was yet again plugging you up, your cunt couldn’t help but clamper down around him.

“Look at you,” he swiftly began to chuckle, “you’re fucking squirting already?” his pace didn’t slow in the slightest as you gushed messily around his girth, “who the fuck gave you permission to squirt all over my cock, huh? Bad fucking girl. You just can’t help yourself from making a cute little mess, huh?” he kept on fucking you through it, dragging out your orgasm for what felt like an eternity as your body convulsed beneath him, “did I tell you that you could fucking do that? Did I tell you that you could cum? No,” his words barely seeped through your haze, “so you don’t fucking do it. Hold it, ask for permission, don’t fucking pull that shit again with me or you’ll regret it,” his intense stare imprisoned your weak gaze before he then sighed, “well, since nobody else has bothered to, I guess I’ll just have teach you some self-control myself…” 

Just then, your stepbrother suddenly shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his back and shifting just a tad bit closer to you both. Each of you froze up at once as your eyes darted off to the side, Ari’s broad hand still pressed over your mouth. 

And when the frat boy that stretched you out was sure that Steve was still asleep, he then began to pick his pace back up, gradually working his way back to the fevered rhythm he’d granted himself previously. 

Some movement then caught your vision, as out of the corner of your eye, someone passed by out in the hallway, before the figure then circled back to eclipse the doorway. 

“Fucking shit!” you then heard Ari moan quietly as he came undone, “that little pussy’s too fucking good, damn…” he finally slipped his palm away from your lips to instead smother them with a breathless kiss. 

“A-Ari?” you then patted his wide shoulder once the peck had ceased, before you weakly pointed to the figure by the door. 

“Oh,” Ari simply exhaled when he twisted his neck to spot who was standing in the threshold, “hey, Andy,” he smiled at his right-hand man, “enjoying the show?”

“Is he fucking sleeping?” Andy whispered as he nodded to Steve in the bed beside you both, “holy shit…” 

“Wait, why are you–,” a gasp slipped from your lungs as you glanced to Ari, “I thought this was supposed to be a secret.”

“Oh, Andy’s just Andy,” he simply shrugged, “my vice president won’t run his mouth if I don’t let him,” he uttered before glancing back over his shoulder, “will you?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Andy’s head gently shook. 

Blinking between them a moment as you fought not to drown in the shock that washed over you, the two men kept up their alarmingly casual tone as Ari then offered. 

“You want a go? I already lubed her up for you,” and it took you a second for it to sink in that he was referring to the hot load that he’d just spilt into you, his cock still plugging you up and keeping his seed inside. 

“Not in here,” Andy shook his head as he smirked in your direction, “I wanna hear her squeal and moan for it…” 

As Ari then got up from the bed, causing the mattress to dip enough for you to shoot a nervous glance to your slumbering stepbrother, he then picked you up and draped you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, one of your palms quickly soaring up to clasp over your mouth to muffle the yelp that promptly bubbled out at his manhandling. 

Carrying you out to the hallway and into his own bedroom directly to the right at the very end of the corridor, he then dropped you down the bed in the middle of the room. For a moment as he let himself loom above you, standing tall at the foot of the mattress, the wild look in his eye made you think that he was about to ravage you all over again, but instead, to your amazement, his feet then began to shift away from you before he took a seat in the chair by his desk, swirling it around for his stare to stay glued on you. 

Shutting the door behind him, Andy then stripped off his clothes, each long step that carried him closer towards where you lied cost a single item of clothing. Once no more fabric covered his burly frame, he propped a knee up onto the mattress before joining you on the bed. 

Parting your thighs, he craned down to get an embarrassingly close look at your pussy. His touch sneaked up to ghost the broad pad of a thumb over your messy folds, making you jump slightly in sensitivity as his thick finger shifted down to your entrance, slowly leaking with Ari’s cum, “so fucking pretty…” he murmured before his digit stuffed some of the jizz back inside your haven. 

Andy then layed down beside you before he dragged your exhausted form up on top of his own. 

His grip drug into your hips as he then huffed, “well, go on,” before his broad palm swiftly collided with your bottom, “that dick isn’t gonna ride itself.” 

“Huh?” you panted as the sinful situation you’d woken up to had you feeling as if you were still dreaming. 

“Have you seriously already fucked that brain out of her?” the man below you shot a brief look over your shoulder at Ari.

“Well, she was kind of already half broken when I found her,” the frat’s president shrugged, “but sure, I’ll gladly take the credit.” 

Sweeping his hands up your frame, Andy then captured your face and tilted it for your eyes to feebly find his, “sink that little pussy down on my cock, sweetheart,” he repeated in a clear yet impatient tone.

Blindly, you clumsily reached down between your bodies as you shakily raised yourself up just enough to let your arm pass. As you found his hard length, your cheek smooshed further into his palm as he held your face steady before him instead of allowing it to crash down onto his chest, letting himself absorb and revel in each little twitch that flickered over your features as you nudged the tip of his dick against your opening. 

Weakly rubbing the thick cockhead against your dripping core, you then finally made your hips tilt, but just as the very tip of him carefully popped inside, you then lost your balance and came crashing down against him, the entire length of him slamming inside of you in one fell swoop. 

He didn’t seem to care how the tumble had knocked the wind right out of you or how whines escaped you as you tried to catch your breath, your poor pussy fluttering around him in an effort to comprehend the sudden stretch. 

“Come on,” he let go of your head to smack your butt, “bounce that ass for me.” 

And though you shakily tried, it was without success. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered against his chest, “I can’t…” 

“What? You can’t fuck yourself on my cock?” he uttered in a mocking tone. 

“It’s too much, I can’t, my legs they–,” your thighs quivered on either side of his hips as you fruitlessly attempted to raise yourself up once again, “I’m sorry…” 

“Aw, baby…” his thumb briefly found your cheek in a soft stroke, “look at you… too fucking exhausted to work for that nut, huh?” he ushered your hazy gaze to find his own as he peered down at you, melted down against his pecs, “but you want it, don’t you? You wanna be a good little cumslut and take my load as well, right? Or else you’ll just hurt my feelings…”

“No, I do,” your words slurred slightly as you blinked up at him. Though you feared your poor body wasn’t able to keep going, the burning desire not to make the devastatingly handsome man that you lied upon even a little bit sad, drove you to murmur, “I’m sorry, I just can’t–, ughh!” before his grip then dented your ass and he began to move your hips for you. 

“Well then I guess I’ll just take care of it myself,” he croaked as he began to fuck Ari’s cum deeper inside of you, “I’ve got you,” he simply smirked as he let you smother your face further into his chest, almost as if you were trying to bury yourself and hide from the intenseness as he kept on rocking you on top of him, “you can just rest.” 

The pattern he rapidly formed, of lifting your hips all the way up before sinking your pussy right back down onto his cock, was then shattered as his own hips began to move beneath you, bucking up into your warmth till you felt your eyes begin to roll in your skull. 

“Ari…” you weakly whined against Andy’s skin as even you began to hear how your cunt squelched sinfully each time the details of his cock dragged against your g-spot. 

“Yes, baby?” you heard from the other side of the room. 

“I think I’m gonna cum again,” you nearly cried as you dug your teeth into your bottom lip, “can I–… can I, please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he huffed, “sure, go ahead,” before you then squirted again, your quivering hole even forcing Andy’s dick out completely as your pussy continued to gush, “that’s it… that’s my girl…” Ari groaned before his fellow frat boy reached down to slip his cock right back in, only allowing you to be free of his girth for what felt like a second before he buried himself once more, although Andy did grant you the serenity of staying still once he’d sunk you back down onto his length, “and what do you say now?” you heard Ari fish. 

“Hm?” you hummed weakly as your velvety walls spasmed around Andy’s cock. 

“I just let you fucking cum, so what do you say?”

Your brow briefly knit together as you tried to scramble your foggy brain, “…t-thank you?” 

“Thank you, what?” 

“Thank you, Ari?” you tried in an unsure voice. 

“Well, I guess that’s good enough for now,” he chuckled lightly, “can always make you call me your president or sir another day,” his stare on your cunt then intensified, marvelling at how you clenched around Andy’s dick, “fuck… how does she feel right now? Because that pussy’s grip around your cock looks so fucking tight,” you could vaguely hear the slick passes of his fist as Ari was once again painfully hard and stroking his length.

“Dude, it’s insane…” Andy puffed beneath you, resisting the urge to pound through the throbbing descent of your high, “you wanna tap in again?” 

And the next thing you then knew, Ari had shot up from his seat before he’d plucked your frame off of Andy as if you were just a little doll in his grasp. Standing tall as he picked you up into his burly arms, a yelp then tumbled past your lips as he didn’t just readjust you in his grasp, but instead tossed you up even higher till he had you balanced on his shoulders and his face once again was buried against your puffy pussy for another taste. As he messily sucked your sore clit into his mouth, you feared momentarily that he might drop you, even though his strong grip on you stayed steady. 

As he safely slipped you back down and tangled your weak legs around his hips, he then began to guide you back down onto his cock, splitting you open all over again for him.

With his massive hands spread out wide beneath your ass, he sank you down upon him before lifting your frame back up, limp and trembling in his flexing arms. But then as the tenderness of your most recent high lingered and exacerbated the soreness that had already been aching ever since your stepbrother had fucked your last night, the agonising overstimulation brought on by Ari’s merciless efforts caused you to crumble even further and begin to cry, something that you didn’t notice till the man cradling you cockily pointed out. 

“Oh fuck…” to your horror, he somehow grew even harder inside of you as he spotted the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “that’s so hot,” his next few thrusts then couldn’t help but snap roughly against you. 

“What?” Andy murmured as he got up from the bed. 

“Look, she’s crying,” Ari smiled as you let your head fall to rest against his broad shoulder, “I love a girl who cries when it gets too much for her.” 

“Yeah? Is it too much, huh?” Andy crept closer before one of his hands snaked in between your forms to momentarily bully your swollen clit, “can that little pussy not take it anymore?” he slipped his fingers away again, awaiting an answer, though try as you might, only a moan came tumbling off your lips, “you want us to move on to that little ass instead?”

“N-no!” you somehow managed to whine. 

“No?” you felt Ari’s lips press against your temple as he spoke, “you sure? One of us could just stick it in at the end, who knows, you might even be too cockdrunk by now to notice the difference,” he bounced you in his arms as Andy reached out to tug crudely against your pebbly nipples. 

“D-don’t, please–”

“But I thought that little pussy was all sore and achy now, right?” Andy tilted his head to get closer to your own, “so don’t you wanna give her a little break? Unless of course you like it when it hurts a little bit.” 

“Oh, I bet she does,” Ari chuckled, “dirty little girl like her, spreading her legs for her own stepbrother. She for sure loves it.” 

“So then why don’t we just both use that pussy at the same time?” a gasp escaped you Andy then tapped his palm against the soft peaks of your tits, “if you don’t want it up the ass yet, you want us to ruin that cute cunt instead?” 

And as you weakly shook your head, drooling against Ari’s shoulder, you then felt a hum rumbled in his chest, “hm,” he pursed his lips as he blinked down at you, “I think that’s a no, unfortunately.”

“Oh well, at least we tried,” Andy respected it begrudgingly.

Shifting you in his hold, you winced slightly as Ari then slipped out of you, though your pussy didn’t get to stay empty for long as Andy swiftly settled in behind you and filled you up instead. Grunting into the back of your neck as his friend kept on holding you up, soon it wasn’t just Andy’s hips that snapped into the plush of your ass, enveloped by Ari’s broad hands, but the president of the frat had also begun bouncing you down to meet Andy’s efforts, offering his aid as he fucked you down upon his friend’s cock. 

When they had traded places once again, Andy curved around to where your head stayed melted down against Ari’s shoulder, eyes shut as sobbing moans flowed out of you. Tilting down, he pressed a kiss to your lips, his palm slipping up to the side of your face before the light tap he then patted against your cheek forced your heavy eyelids to flutter back open. A groan slipped from Ari as the brief smack had caused your cunt to clench down around him, rendering him to command his friend to keep going, which Andy happily complied with, his lips stealing brief pecks between the swift slaps he then dealt.

The pattern of their constant switching efficiently edged you, as each time one of them had their go with you, it would cruelly push you painfully close to cumming, before they then would trade places, constantly denying you of that delicious high and granting you just enough of a pause to fall back down again before it all then repeated over and over again till you felt as if you were losing your mind. 

But when the pending high crept up on you once again and began to blur your already hazy vision, you finally managed to part your lips and try to beg before Ari could once again deny you and pass your pussy back to his friend, “ca–…can I cum? P-please–” 

“No,” his voice felt like a sharp slap against your cheek and caused a strangled sob to slip out past your lips, “not until both of us have gotten our rocks off, you got it?”  

You tried your best to suppress it, put a lid over the boiling pot and hope that it didn’t explode as you dug your teeth into Ari’s shoulder in an effort to try and hold on. 

Luckily, your torture didn’t stretch on for too long before, one by one, they then spilt their seed inside of you. Andy was the first to pump you full, though his load quickly began to escape as soon as he withdrew his throbbing cock, as you were still cradled so high above the ground that gravity played its part. Though a lot of it did leak out and drip down onto the floor, some still remained inside of you and quickly mixed and mingled when Ari swiftly flooded your haven as well. 

Though as soon as his fat cock slipped out of you, Andy wasted no time reaching down and stuffing your drippy and creamy hole full with two of his thick fingers. He swiftly began to rock them inside of you so harshly that a meek cry burst from your lungs as your overly sensitive pussy once again squirted for them, gushing out their cum as well as he kept going until you nearly blacked out. 

And then, as your eyes fell shut once again and you exhaustedly melted further into Ari’s strong frame, you heard him murmur against your temple, “okay,” as he pressed a kiss above your brow, “let’s go tug you back into bed, angel.”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[burnt-up-stegosaurus]

I don't think Andromeda's rebellion was loud, like Sirius'. Not really.

I think Andromeda was a Black through and through. Her parent's pride: Slytherin, prefect, first of the class. She followed the rules, and she knew what her name entailed.

Andromeda Black used to scorn at muggleborns, to mumble stray "mudblood"s when the occasion was fit.

That's how her and Teddy first met. He and his Hufflepuff friends tripped with her, her books fell on the floor, just like a meetcute. But Andromeda didn't blush, she didn't feel like the protagonist of a romance movie.

She saw red. This careless Hufflepuffs had ruined her books, there was spilled ink all over her pages, and, worst of all, there wasn't a single pureblood amongst them.

Maybe she had already been having a bad day. Maybe, in any other situation she wouldn't have reacted, she would have been prideful.

But she cursed them out. She let out a long string of slurs that weren't even in use, a "this is what happens when they let fucking impure thieves into our school", etcetera, etcetera.

And she got a book to the face. Square, right in the middle.

Ted Tonks, one of the Hufflepuffs in the group, had grown tired of her racist rant, and had decided to put an end to it. The muggle way.

Hell ensued: Andromeda brought out her wand and started cursing. Ted charged at her with his bare hands (he was trying to prove a point). The rest of the Hufflepuffs scattered.

The teachers didn't take too long before they arrived and separated them, but Andromeda Black already had a black eye, and Ted Tonks had some ugly, bloody gashes where her curses had landed.

And they were forced to do Detention together.

They couldn't stand each other, from that point onwards. Until Andromeda started changing.

I don't think Andromeda's rebellion was loud. I think it was slow. I think she had to unlearn everything her parents had taught her, and I think at first she wasn't willing. But she was, eventually.

And she did change. She became better.

[puck-luck]

change-up | luke hughes

warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, praise praise praise, fingering & masturbation, references to prior & future hookups, hookup culture, TW: hinge😩, mentions of size difference pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: “because of how shy luke was when he first met reader, she thinks that he’s going to be inexperienced in bed and she‘ll to have to take the lead..but really lukey absolutely ruins her”, “could I please request luke Hughes smut where he loves being so much bigger than you”, “LOVEEDD the luke hughes one def write more dom stuff” wc: 4382

“Do you, maybe, want to go back to mine?” Luke asks quietly, his lips a mere nudge against the shell of your ear. Even in the loud bar, his voice cuts through the chatter like a flash of light. 

You’d only met Luke earlier that night, a Hinge date gone right for you and your best friend. When Luke had invited you out to the bar he was at with some of his teammates, your best friend had jumped to point out that this could be your Kylie Kelce moment– you had to go and meet your Jason, even though Luke didn’t resemble the football player at all. Not that you minded.

You consider his words– Luke’s arm is thrown over your shoulder comfortably. His body is warm against yours. He’s been pretty shy all night, quiet enough that you felt like you had to control the conversation, but while Luke was in the bathroom, one of his buddies had revealed that that was normal for Luke. He was a quiet boy around new people– it didn’t mean he didn’t like you.

Clearly, it didn’t mean he didn’t like you. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be inviting you back to his apartment. You’re not a fool. You know what that means. 

Regardless, you agree. “Sure,” you say with a smile. 

Luke returns the smile, leaning over you to gesture towards the bartender. He closes his tab, which houses both his and your drinks. You each had only had two drinks, so you’re feeling tipsy, but not drunk enough to stop what’s about to happen.

Once Luke has closed out, he guides you to his car and opens the door in a gentlemanly way for you. The ride to his home is silent save for the country music playing from the radio. Luke’s hand rests on your knee, a weight that has you squirming.

As shy as he is, you’ve come to realize that Luke’s love language is easily physical touch. He’s been sweet when he speaks with you, and he paid for all of your drinks, which kept words of affirmation and gift giving in the running for a while, but he’s kept a hand on you all night. 

He had seemed hesitant to do so, playing it safe by touching your arm or your knee or your shoulder. When you hadn’t shrugged him off, but rather presented him with a smile and a lean into his heat, Luke had become more sure with it.

You don’t know anything about his sex life or how experienced or inexperienced he is, but you expect that you’ll have to do the same thing in bed. You’ll have to reassure him that yes, you actually want to do this, and you actually like this. He’ll want to make sure he’s being good for you, because he’s the sweetest, but if you’re honest, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll have to take the lead.

One of the reasons why you had matched with Luke on Hinge, aside from how cute he was, was that he looked like an athlete. You’ve always been someone who likes to be overpowered a bit, liking someone bigger than you, and Luke looked like he could throw you around easily. You wanted him to do so, but that just doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards tonight, and you can accept that. You’ll hook up with someone else who will toss you around eventually– but Luke is too pretty and too kind to pass up.

When he pulls into the garage and parks, Luke rounds the car and opens your door for you. He leads you by the hand into his apartment. Your purse slips down your arm and, once inside the apartment, Luke takes it from you and hangs it on a hook near his front door. 

The apartment is still dark and you find yourself distracted trying to look at his furniture through the shadows. Giving up, you turn back to face Luke with a smile on your face. 

Shockingly, he’s already moving toward you. 

Luke pushes you against the wall, his hands on your hips. He’s kissing you, swallowing your noise of surprise. You’re frozen against him for just a moment, caught off guard by his insistent movements and confident grip on your sides. You melt into his touch when his presence finally registers, the catalyst being Luke’s fingers shifting to tug at the belt loops on your jeans. You place your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his head. 

Luke pulls your hips against his, pressing into you with his growing length. He’s leaning over you, causing your shoulders and head to rest against the wall while your back and hips arch into him. Smoothly, he steps forward and moves one of his hands so he’s bracketing your head. 

His tongue flexes when he enters your mouth, his muscle sliding against your own. You melt even further against him, moaning against his lips. You sag against the wall and Luke’s strong hands catch you, holding you upright. 

His fingers roam along your skin, eventually resting on the swell of your ass. He squeezes your cheeks harshly, grunting in appreciation as your bottom fills his large hands. Luke lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, sitting prettily with your clothed core barely brushing his cock. You grind down against him, and Luke’s mouth curves in a smile, lips still touching your own. 

“Eager,” he mumbles, sounding smug. 

“Happily surprised,” you correct, words muffled and interrupted by your kisses. “I thought you’d be shy.”

“Mm, not when we’re alone,” Luke hums, holding you with one hand around your waist. He starts to march down the dark hallway, pushing open his bedroom door with a bang. “Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.”

Luke gently lays you on his bed, hands splayed across your back. He’s still kissing you, adamant and consistent. Now, he’s got gravity on his side. His body is covering your own, trapping you against the soft mattress. A soft curse leaves your mouth, filling Luke’s. You’re sharing the air between yourselves, aching for the other person.

“What do you want?” You ask, one of your hands finding his curls and toying with the strands. 

Luke groans, parting from you to nuzzle against your neck as you continue to scratch against his scalp. He mouths over your neck messily, his tongue painting your skin like long brush strokes across a canvas. 

“Want to mark you up,” Luke mutters, nipping at your neck. He sucks the fleshy skin at the base of your neck between your clavicles. “I want you to remember this night.”

You moan, curling a hand along his collar and pulling at the t-shirt adorning his body in an entirely unnecessary way, in your opinion. You expose his collarbone, sharp and smooth all at once, but you don’t get to reap the rewards. 

Luke instead just chuckles and bats your hand away, capturing it in his own. He presses your wrist into the mattress above your head, exposing you further. “I want to make sure you think about me for weeks.” Luke feeds the promise to you with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip and a tiny nibble along the same path. “That every time you get yourself off, you think about how my fingers would be better than your own, or that my cock would fill you better than any toy you own, or any other boy you find.”

You knew that this would be a hook-up sort of thing, nothing more serious because Luke’s Hinge profile clearly stated he wasn’t looking for anything long term, but his possessive tone fuels a fire in you that has you whining and tugging his hair.

He shifts your hand to join the other, his fingers gripping both of your wrists while his other hand starts to explore your body. He dances over the curves of your breasts, along your elongated stomach. Your ribs are prominent and your stomach is flatter with your back against the bed– and Luke touches your skin like you’re precious to him. For a first night together, you already feel so seen. 

After caressing your skin, Luke pulls your shirt up and bundles the fabric near the base of your neck, revealing your little lacy bralette to him. He licks along the band, going from your neck down the V of your chest, then back up to your other shoulder. You watch his nose bump against your curves and your jaw slackens a bit with the possibilities that are running through your head.

You’d give anything to get his mouth on your clit, already swollen and pulsing with faux-lightning shocks from each of Luke’s touches. 

“Eat me out,” you say, a push in the right direction. Boys like when girls speak their mind, right?

Luke stills, his lips hovering above your sternum. You watch him smirk, then resume his kissing, sweet wet pecks marking the space where your breasts meet. “Lost your manners?” He finally asks, pulling away from your body to remove your shirt. He leaves it tangled along your wrist, wrapping it a few times and tucking the end into the band of your watch to secure the fabric in place.

You pout petulantly and Luke slides off the bed, kneeling between your legs that are bent over the side of the bed. He runs a finger along the seam of your jeans, taking extra care to rub his knuckle over your clothed entrance. You keen and he draws his hand up, resting it on your mound with his thumb stationary and heavy against your clit.

“Baby, I want to,” Luke assures you, his thumb lifting up and patting your clit a few times, causing you to jolt. “But I can’t until you ask me nicely.” He starts to rub your clothed clit, up and down in slow movements. He’s peering up at you with wide eyes, blinking like he’s innocent even though he’s driving you crazy.

“Please?” You try, your voice a little squeaky. 

A tiny smile on his face, Luke tilts his head at you. “You can do better than that,” he says, shifting forward to plant a kiss where his thumb rested. “Give it a second try.”

“Please eat me out, Luke,” you say, putting another pout on your face for good measure.

“Better,” Luke teases, trailing off. He reaches for your zipper, dragging it down. He inches the denim down your legs, revealing the panties that you’re practically soaking with your slick. They match your bralette– a purposeful decision that doesn’t do unnoticed by Luke. He thumbs over your clit again, then dips lower to flick over the wet spot staining the fabric. “Keep going. I want you to beg.”

He removes your pants with a kiss to the inside of your knee. His hands move to your thighs, feeling up the skin, keeping you warm in the chilled apartment. His breath passes over your core as he switches sides and you ache for him. It breaks the floodgates and you give him exactly what he wants, falling into that submissive role you’re able to fill so well.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Luke. I know it’ll be so good– I know you’ll make me feel so good. Fuck, Luke, I want to come on your tongue. Taste me, please, please fuck me with your tongue.”

Luke’s crooked grin returns, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips and glinting at you. “Such dirty words for such a pretty girl,” he teases, but he hooks his fingers along the crotch of your panties and tugs them to the side, revealing your wet folds. He flexes his tongue, pointing it into a solid spear that he uses to spread your lower lips and locate your entrance. “Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Luke murmurs before diving in and lathering your clit in a wet kiss. 

He pushes your legs apart, using his strong hands to pin your hips to the bed and keep them there. You want to wiggle out from under him and grind against his face, but Luke forces you to relinquish control with his size and strength.

It’s just what you wanted. Whining and tugging at the fabric around your wrists (easily removable, although you choose not to do so), you relax against the mattress and let Luke have his way with you.

He loves it, eating you out like he could do this for hours, like he could die happy between your leg. He’s moaning against you and massaging praise into your skin, all while licking every inch of your cunt. He fucks his tongue into you, he spits along your folds and watches the saliva drip down the crack of your behind before scooping it back up with his tongue and closing his lips around your clit. He leaves you wetter and wetter each time he pulls away, admiring his handiwork from a distance with a slack jaw before locating his next target and assaulting it with his tongue and gentle scrapes of his teeth. The first time he swept his bottom teeth against your clit, you flinched, but it quickly became a moan for more.

You’ve always been a glutton, addicted to toeing the line between pleasure and pain. 

It surprises you that Luke is the same way– although he would prefer to inflict the sensation than receive it. You align perfectly.

The sharp press of his tongue inside you draws a litany of noises from your mouth and it reinvigorates Luke’s efforts, with him flicking the muscle as far as he can within your cunt. He clutches at your skin, reaching under you to envelop both of your ass cheeks in his palms and lift your pussy to meet his face. There’s no room for reprieve, no space between you, and Luke is bullying your core with inconsistent nudges of his nose to your clit. 

“Luke, my clit,” you beg, chest heaving with how badly you yearn for your release. “Please.”

“You can come without that,” Luke replies, licking over the bundle once in consolation before returning to your hole, where you’re leaking fluids. Slick, saliva, and your impending orgasm all find their way onto Luke’s tongue, running down his chin and moistening the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets growing wet beneath you, but you don’t care. Luke is making you feel even better than you imagined he would. 

You come over his tongue with a series of moans, bringing your still-tied hands down to his hair and tugging at his locks. Luke flicks over clit with quick kitten licks, only stopping when you’re crying out from oversensitivity

Luke kisses up your body, capturing your nipples between his lips over the lace fabric of your bralette, leaving the peaks pointed and cold when his mouth travels further north. 

He brings his lips to yours, ravishing the plush curves until they’re red and bruised. All the while, Luke mumbles praises to you until they blur together and you’re arching your back to feel his torso against yours again.

“You wanna go again?” Luke checks, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Ready to give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding and knocking your nose against his. He leans in and gives you a proper Eskimo kiss before pecking you one last time. 

Luke uses his strong hands to maneuver you the way he wants– chest pressed into the bed, ass pulled up and flush with his groin as he kneels behind you. He snaps the band of your bralette against your shoulderblade, then kneads the skin of your hips. 

“Close your eyes, babydoll,” Luke commands in a gentle voice. “I want you to feel this, just focus on feeling me.”

He rolls his hips against your behind, his cock still clothed but poking at the fabric like it’s trying to find its mark and sink into your heat. He pulls you against him and you wiggle your hips, obeying his command and closing your eyes. Your t-shirt fell from your wrists during the repositioning, so you clutch freely at the pillow under your head with one hand and hold your breast with the other. You squeeze the skin, moaning at the pleasure.

Luke brings your attention back to him with a sharp spank, making you yelp and clench down with both of your hands, scrambling for something to ground you. Luke chuckles and spanks you again, harder this time and on your other cheek. 

“Can’t wait to see this ass bounce,” Luke announces, smirking obviously even though you can’t see it. “I’m gonna make sure it’s pretty and pink while I fill your pussy up.”

If your eyes weren’t shut, they’d be rolling in your head at his words. You’re helpless, reduced to a moaning mess beneath Luke. 

You had no idea that the night would turn out like this, having fully expected to push him down and ride him until he came inside of you because he just couldn’t take the pleasure any longer. The tables have turned– now you’re the one leaking beneath him, your hole spread open from his thorough meal and positively waiting for him.

Luke disappears from behind you to remove his shorts, you assume. You keep your eyes closed and you hold your position, hoping your obedience will result in a reward. 

His voice washes over you, warming you like he’s still draped over your shoulder back at the bar. 

“Keep yourself full for me while I grab something, eh?” Luke asks, a prodding question that you’re scrambling to fulfill before he can even finish his sentence. 

Your middle two fingers slide into your hole, a wet squelch pushing a breath of a laugh out of Luke from his distance. You grind against the heel of your hand, spreading your knees for more leverage. 

“Good girl,” Luke coos, making his way back onto the bed. He’s behind you once again, naked, and you wish you could open your eyes and sneak a peek at his cock. You want to see how well endowed he is, feeling him brush against your thigh before a line of spit drips down your crack and crawls toward your hole. 

You fuck yourself on your fingers, hips rocking back. There are whimpers and whines filling the room, sounding needy and desperate for more, and it takes you a minute to realize that the words are muffled into the pillow, falling from your mouth. Biting down on the pillow to silence yourself, you curl your fingers inside yourself, hoping to reach your g-spot. In this position, you fall just short.

Luke’s index finger traces over the valley of your fingers, nearing your entrance. He’s silent, his moves calculated, and his index finger presses into you. He joins your middle and ring finger, his index finger reaching your insides in a way that has you keening. You can feel his fingertips against your nailbeds, then Luke wiggles his finger in further. 

You feel like you actually drip onto the bed when he pets over your g-spot, the spot that you couldn’t find on your own. Your knees are wide and your hips are slowly coming lower and lower. Your body is defaulting to the position in which you’ve gotten off so many times– hips flush against the bed, clit rubbing against your palm as you clench down on your own fingers. 

Luke uses his knee to bring your ass back up to its previous height, swatting at your flesh when you let out a complaint at the loss. Your clit is feeling neglected, practically calling out for pleasure, but the feeling of your fingers– and Luke’s– inside you is too good to take away.

So Luke does it for you. He removes his finger from your heat and digs under your knuckles, removing your digits from their wet home. The loss of contact comes with a devastating empty feeling and Luke soothes you with a cooed praise when you express your discontent. 

He solves the problem by slapping his thick cockhead against your open hole, resting it there until you’re squirming against him and pleas are leaving you with increasing intensity and higher pitch.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Luke murmurs, pinching your skin as a reprimand. “You’ve been so good, listening to me so well. I’m going to reward you, don’t worry. Let me take care of you.”

He inches his cock inside your pussy achingly slow. You can feel every inch of him, every vein rubbing against your walls. You can feel the precum leaking from his slit and mixing with your own wetness. His tip finally nudges at your cervix, kissing the opening with another blurt of precum, and you ache for Luke to fill you up. You wish you were facing him so that he could drop a line of spit onto your tongue in a similar way.

When Luke starts to move, drawing himself out of you then forcing his way back in, all images disappear from your mind. His cock is all you can focus on– the warmth, how it’s pulsing inside of you, how it’s stretching your hole even though you had three fingers inside of it just minutes ago. 

Luke is consistent, fucking into you with hard and sure thrusts that leave you moaning. A puddle of drool is pooling on the pillow and your mouth is nearly constantly open, your tongue dry and breaths ragged. Your noises continue in their high-pitched tone, spurring Luke on. He pounds your pussy, ruining it for everyone else. 

Luke was right. You’d be thinking about him for weeks to come. 

He has you shrieking with each slap to your ass, the skin growing hot and becoming more red with each swat. You had no idea that you could be so loud in bed– you’ve normally got a handle on yourself. Normally, you’re not so wet that each thrust results in a pornographic sound of skin meeting skin. 

Luke is in a league all of his own.

“So tight,” he groans. “‘M gonna come, baby.”

“Come in me,” you beg. “Fuck, Luke, come in me.”

“I will,” he promises. “I want you to come first.”

Your abdomen is tight, burning with the need to release. You feel like you could explode and the thought pops into your head– you’d never been able to before, not with another man nor when fucking yourself, but you bet you could squirt now.

“Can I touch?” You ask, desperate. “Please, wanna touch my clit. Wanna come for you. Wanna be good. Please, Luke, tell me I can.”

“Go on,” he encourages. “Let me feel you.”

It’s like an out of body experience. You have control of your hands, but your fingers feel foreign as they find your clit and start to rub frantic circles over the bundle. Your chest is snug against the bedsheets. You spread your legs even further, needing the space to keep yourself open and feel even wider. Luke notices and loops a hand under your thigh, lifting the leg and holding it up. He’s able to keep you balanced, able to keep you steady as your fingers slide over your dripping cunt.

His grunts and moans spur you on, your back arching. His tip finds your g-spot and abuses it, knocking the air out of you with each bump.

“Luke,” you whine, his name elongated on your tongue.

“I’m here, baby, let go.”

He’s reassuring and calm, so sure behind you and panting. He drapes himself over your back, kissing behind your ear. 

It’s the smooth brush of his lips that sends you over the edge. Your vision, already black, turns into a staticky void that you fall down like you’re skydiving. 

Luke is your parachute, fucking you through the spray of your orgasm and releasing his own seed inside of you. He fills you up with his warmth, fucking you until you’re sagging on the bed and breathing hard, barely able to move. Luke drags his cock out of your cunt and brings some of his come with it, although he promptly plugs you with his fingers and a kiss once he’s turned you over onto your back. 

His fingers are mostly still inside you, slowly pumping in and out in a way that isn’t meant to derive pleasure. He simply wants to feel you. His kisses are soft and sweet, soothing you and bringing you back down to Earth. 

Eventually, you regain control of your limbs. You shift one of your legs over Luke’s hips and cuddle close to him, rolling your hips against his finger. Your tongue slides against his, tasting your first orgasm on his lips. 

The moment dies slowly. You’re both tired, ready to sleep. Luke draws his fingers out of your entrance, pecking your lips one last time. 

“Go pee, baby,” he tells you. “You’re not getting a UTI on my account. I’ll get some PJs for you while you’re gone, then we can take a shower in the morning after I serve you some breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm,” you hum, beaming. You lean up to kiss Luke again. “How’d you get so good at aftercare? Lots of experience?”

“Just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Luke replies, fondly smiling at you when you roll away and patter towards his ensuite bathroom. He laughs a little as you cringe, the mixture of come seeping out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

“How about I take a quick shower now and we’ll discuss that breakfast in bed when I’m done?” You tease, already pulling back his shower curtain and turning the nozzles to find your optimum heat. 

“Don’t pee in my shower,” Luke calls, pushing the covers off the bed and gathering the wet sheets to throw in the wash. He’ll put new sheets on the bed while you’re cleaning yourself.

“I’m not!” You deny, affronted. “How dare you assume such a thing?”

The last thing you hear before stepping into Luke’s shower is his cheeky, throaty laugh. You fail to bite back the smile that comes with it.

[deswhomst]

Pinky Promise | @black-sisters-microfic | Tedromeda-centric | Word Count : 695

Hogwarts, September 1964.

“You’re a mudblood, then?” Andromeda asked suspiciously. “I’ve never heard the name Tonks before.”

Ted Tonks, who had been unnecessarily cheerful up till this moment, dropped his smile immediately. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“Why?” Her brows pulled together in confusion. “It’s just a question. I won’t be offended if you ask me my blood status.”

Ted stared at her. “The difference is that you’re insulting me.”

“When did I insult you?” Andromeda threw up her hands in exasperation. “You’re the one who can’t answer a simple question!”

“Are you stupid?”

“Oh, clearly, I am,” she said. “Why else would I be wasting my time talking to you?”

Ted rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I’ll let you go so you can continue your bullying.”

“What!?” Andromeda shrieked indignantly. “I have never bullied anyone, nor do I want to!”

“Didn’t you just call me a mudblood?” asked Ted, eyebrow raised.

She groaned in frustration. “I only asked if you were. And you still haven’t answered me.”

“I’m not a mudblood,” Ted said pointedly. “I’m a muggle-born.”

Andromeda blinked. “Is—what is wrong with you?” she asked. “That’s exactly the same thing!”

“No, it’s not!”

“A muggle-born,” she began through gritted teeth, “is someone who has muggle parents. A mudblood is also someone who has muggle parents. I fail to see the difference.”

“When you say mudblood, it sounds like you think you’re better than me,” Ted said. When Andromeda pursed her lips and didn’t make a comment, he scoffed. “You do think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

“Well … yes,” she slowly nodded. “But that’s because I saw you trip and fall over nothing. You were just walking, there were no obstacles, and you still fell.”

“That can happen to anyone!” he pointed out indignantly, face flushing a light pink.

“It has never happened to me.”

Ted glared at her, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Who the fuck cares—”

“Don’t use the word,” Andromeda hissed, eyes widening.

“What word?” Ted blinked. “Fuck?”

She nodded, distressed.

He huffed out a mirthless laugh. “So you can call me a mudblood but I can’t say fuck?”

Andromeda wanted to burst into flames right then and there because why was this boy being so difficult?

“It’s just a blood status,” she tried patiently. Maybe he doesn’t know since his parents are muggles. “So, you see I’m a pureblood because my parents are, too. If someone has one parent who’s not a pureblood, then that person is a half-blood. If you have both parents who are muggles, you’re a mudblood,” She held up her hand when he began to interrupt her. “It’s also called muggle-born, I know, but mudblood makes more sense. Pureblood, half-blood, mudblood.”

After that, Ted stared at her silently for a very long time. It seemed that he was contemplating his next words carefully, finally settling on, “We prefer to be called muggle-born because people use the other one in a bad way … it’s like how you don’t like hearing fuck because it’s a bad word. Mudblood is a bad word, too.”

Andromeda digested that, nodding slowly. “But then you can’t use that word, either.”

Ted’s face split into a helpless grin. “I promise that if you stop using the m-word, I’ll stop using the f-word.”

“Deal,” she nodded, satisfied with this. “Should we make an Unbreakable Vow?”

“What’s that?” he asked curiously.

“It’s an unbreakable vow,” she raised an eyebrow. “It means you make a vow that you can’t break.”

“I meant,” Ted rolled his eyes again, this time with a smile that seemed fond, “what would happen if I do end up saying fu—the word?”

“You’ll die,” she stated simply.

“Oh, good thing it’s not something dramatic and unnecessary.”

Andromeda laughed.

“We can do a pinky promise instead,” Ted told her. “It’s the muggle version of that vow, except you don’t die if you break it.”

“Then it’s not very binding, is it?”

He shrugged. “It’s about trust. You can break it, yes, but I would be trusting that you won’t … and vice versa, I hope.”

“Hmm,” she passed a small smile. “Alright. Let’s do this muggle promise of yours.”