#but my ankles still suck a ton. and my legs

[oliveish]

Okay the pe post has really gotten me. I went and asked my little sister and she has not had that which like good. Asked my dad and he did and I explained it to him and he just was like “yeah no that makes a lot of sense”. But the goddamn miles. Out of nowhere having to run 7 miles!!!!! Having to do at least 5 pull-ups out of nowhere!!!! Like wtf. Just wtf.

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.3°

: pt.1° | pt.2°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [1.8k idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, TONS of smut, use of cock ring]

-

"Jungkook, you can't be serious," you're limping around your home following the cause of your headache.

"I am," he deadpans. He pushes your throw pillows on one side of the couch and plops himself in it. "Back to your room, Y/N. Or do you need me to tuck you in?" he teases with a grin.

Tired from the day and your ankle still throbbing with pain, you huff and retreat to your room. You don't bother closing your door.

"You coming?" You call.

A second passes. Then another. He didn't fall asleep already, did he?

A thud is heard from your living room. Then, Jungkook appears in your doorway.

Shirtless. You gulp, trying not to salivate. He knows he looks good; he doesn't need the boost.

"You're insatiable," he chastises, but at the same time, he's walking closer to you. "But you need to rest, babe." His hands softly rub your head, then tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not that. It's cold outside," you roll your eyes. "Can't have you getting sick, at least not until your game tomorrow. Your team needs their star player," you jest.

Jungkook only giggles, already claiming his side of your bed. The side that's always been his. Even before this whole friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook always slept on the right side of your bed during sleepovers or when he needed to crash the night after a long practice.

You lived a bit closer to the rink—that was his excuse to the guys on his team when they teased him. Also, his mom agreed that it wasn't safe for him to be driving late at night, especially when he was already tired. Sure, she didn't know he slept in your room, but it was all 'platonic' then. The important thing was he was getting good rest. It really wasn't because of your warmth beside him in bed and that he found comfort in seeing you after an exhausting day that made him sleep better. Or so he thinks.

It's a tug-of-war when it comes to him admitting how he feels on certain moments.

"Hey, get your head out of the gutter, Jeon," you mimic his words earlier.

With a pout but round eyes filled with mischief, Jungkook retaliates with tickles. In a fit of laughter, you try to get him to stop, "Gguk.. my fo—ot."

"Oh, shit," he raises his hand to stop. "Sorry, babe."

Catching your breath, you throw him a glare, "You're lucky I can't tackle you." Jungkook responds with by nuzzling his head in your neck and littering pecks on your neck. "Go to sleep," he mumbles between kisses.

You let out a chortle, "You're the one wreaking havoc on my bed, Jeon."

He hums coyly in reply.

"Hey," you nudge his head on your shoulder,"Thank you."

Jungkook tilts his head and and kisses your lips. "Always," his voice soft, sleep slowly penetrating him. You let a minute pass until his breathing evens out, and then, slowly and very carefully, you press your lips to his forehead.

"Night, Gguk," you whispered.

-

You were a morning person. And from the moment you wake up at 6 A.M, you follow your routine to a T.

The alarm goes off for the second time and the clock already reads 6:13 A.M. Your hands struggle to reach your phone on the bedside table and it doesn't help that Jungkook keeps pulling your body further down the bed. Your hips are pinned with his tattooed hands, back arched from pleasure, and legs dangle on the edge of the bed.

Kneeled at the foot of your bed, Jungkook pushes his face deeper between your thighs. His warm tongue switching between sucking and flicking your clit. The lewd sounds of wet pleasure and your breathless moans echoes around your room, drowning the blaring alarm.

You plead for more. You want more. You need more. More pleasure, more of Jungkook. So, you grab his head and push him towards your sex while you buck your hips. Jungkook only groans in response. You can feel your orgasm nearing, but right before you unravel, he pulls away.

"Fucking insatiable." Jungkook licks his lips, tongue catching every drop of you, "And I love it." He stands, his hard cock springing and leaking, then reaches for something in your bottom drawer. But before his hand could re-emerge from the box, you already know what to expect.

Both of your breathing picks up, eyes meeting each other. You were the first to break away. Your eyes traveling down to where his hands are—one shamelessly pumps his dick and the other holds a vibrating cock ring.

With your good foot, you push yourself back up to the bed. "Good girl," Jungkook smirks.

"You gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?" You taunt.

"Nah, I plan to wreck you, babe."

Cock ring in place around his dick, Jungkook aligns himself to your cunt. He's only a tip in and you can already feel the vibrations. Jungkook feels good, too. His brows furrowed, mouth hang open and quiet moans spill.

Truly insatiable and impatient, you pull Jungkook by his arms, "Wreck me. I want all of you, Jungkook."

The sounds your mouth and pussy make and the smell of sex permeating the air intensifies the pleasure Jungkook feels. He would love to start every day like now—buried inside you, your pussy clenching and sucking him back in every time he pulls out. Your whines grow pitchier every second, and Jungkook knows you're close. But he wants to prolong this moment, despite his cock throbs with want to release. So, he plunges deep into your pussy and stills. The cock ring still vibrates around his cock and sits perfectly in line with your clit.

Tears gather at your eyes and while you're always pretty, this look you have when you're being fucked dumb has to be one of Jungkook's favorites.

"Wanna cum," you plead. You're at each other's mercy, but it's Jungkook who drives you to orgasm—coming undone and moaning in unison.

The moment passes, and you both hiss at sensitivity from the vibrating cock ring.

"Wear my jersey to tonight's game, yeah?"

-

Loud sirens go off as the box opens, and the players run to the ice.

Your eyes are quick to scan the huddle, looking for the man with the 97 print on his jersey.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer booms. "Welcome to the beginning of the hockey season. Now, Neil, who do you think will be our star player this season?"

"Easy question, Jack. I would place my bets on Jeon Jungkook. This kid is dubbed the golden maknae of their team and to outsiders."

You agree. Jungkook truly excels in everything he does. And while it may seem as if things come easy for him to strangers and mere acquaintances, no one sees the early mornings and long hours of work he put in to be the best.

"What a phenom. I've heard at least 3 NHL clubs would love to have him on their roster. Truly an incredible young athlete. And if you haven't seen him before, you're in for a real treat."

Goal after goal has been made within the past 50 minutes. On the ice, Jungkook glances at the bright scoreboard. It's neck and neck, and the crowd chaotically shouts. He hears their team name louder, he thinks. And he can't help but feel driven at the thought that one of those loud cheers of his name is from you in the stands.

"It's your shot, Jeon," his teammate shouts as they pass around the puck. Jungkook is terrible at multitasking, but as he dodges the opposing team trying to get the puck, he quickly peeks at the side of the bleachers where he knows you always sit. It's a brief moment, but he sees you—hair tied with green ribbons, their team color, and you're wearing his old jersey. He was right, too. You were screaming his name.

He smirks. Speeds up, and the rest happens in quick succession—Jungkook shifts his hockey stick to take the puck, glides it to the center, and makes a goal.

The cheers grow louder. Despite remaining seated among the jumping crowd, Jungkook was quick to find you again, and you made eye contact. He smiles and you blow him a kiss back.

-

Still high on adrenaline, Jungkook slams his hips behind you. His sulky mood earlier from not being able to fuck you in the showers turned a 180 because he's reminded how much he prefers this view, anyway. His hands pull at your braid while you're fucking yourself back into him.

A strangled call of his name leaves your mouth. He doesn't like that you're holding back your moans. Slipping his cock out of you, he holds your leg delicately and flips you within the tight space of his car, knocking the breath out of you.

Above you, Jungkook's abs glisten with sweat, and his tip slick with your arousal and his. You sit up, wincing from the discomfort from your foot, and pull him for a kiss.

He loves it when you get this eager and hungry for a kiss. It has him fucked. Not only does it make him rock hard but it has his heart constricting, too. It doesn't help that no one else has made a mess of him like this. And he’s not just talking about the mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure he gets every time you have sex.

Years ago, he thought he made peace with the fact that all you could ever be was best friends. But ever since your arrangement, his desire for you grew. He didn't even think it was possible, but here he is a year later. His arm clung to your waist, laying you on his backseat cushion. Jungkook continues to thrust into you. He picks up his pace, and his eyes are glued to your juggling tits before he bends over, pushing his cock deeper into you, and attaches his mouth to play with your right nipple.

As he always does each time you fuck, he makes sure your pleasure comes first. If he can't be outright with his feelings, Jungkook secretly hopes that the way he fucks you—putting you first and taking care of you during and after sex, conveys his feelings and intention. And with every kiss you pull him in for, the unspoken words at the tip of his tongue would smooth over yours.

He would never deny that the attraction towards you has always been there, but he's not shouting it from the mountains either.

At least, not yet.

Plus, he thinks that if you really wanted more from your no-strings-attached arrangement, you would have said so. And he isn't that stupid to be the one who will bring it up, all because his heart and his dick is in-sync. He'll wait it out, he decides. Whether it's for his feelings to subside or for you to feel the same and beat him to confessing, you've always been braver of the two of you, anyway.

He'll wait.

For now, he's willing to give parts of himself that you want to take.

Jungkook's fingers squeeze in between your bodies, and it reaches your clit. Two fingers aggressively rub the hood of your clit while his thumb softly flicks at the nub. In a matter of seconds, you squirt. And Jungkook can't wait to drive you home and do it all over again.

-

>> Page 4

[buckys-little-belle]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so I’m really nervous and I’m sorry if my request sucks! I was just wondering if you could do another plus sized little reader but this time with Bucky? And she’s really embarrassed about being at the park because she gets hurt and so does peter but he gets picked up and she’s worried she can’t be picked up and snuggled because she’s too big and she’s just sad but then Bucky comes in and picks her up and reassures her that she’s still little and that he’s strong and that he still thinks she’s a little? Maybe she’s pretending to not be a little because she’s big again like you did in the last story but Bucky knows better and gives her a sweet band aid? Sorry this is so long you don’t have to do it! Have a good day!!!!!!!!

It's okay, Baby.

Warnings - Talks of swing accident, talks of scrapes, band aids are used, as well as ointment, there's a talk of snacks at the end, and both Bucky and Y/n have a habit of sneaking around each others apartments.

Notes - It's been so long again since I've written something, but I hope you love this anon! Thank you for the request, and I promise you did a great job requesting!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

The park at the compound was huge, it had tons of slides, climbing areas, and more. It was the coolest place Y/n had ever seen. As her friends played some imagination game, running around across the wooden plank bridge and sliding down the fireman's pole, she sat on the bench with the bunch of caregivers.

Y/n hadn't identified as either little or caregiver when she showed up to the compound a year ago. She had gotten rude comments and mean looks in the past when she told people she was a little. And she wasn't ready to see what those she lived with might have to say.

Everyone on the playground was small, pickupable, even if they were tall, and it made her feel like she didn't belong by the side of her smaller friends in a smaller headspace. "Y/n!" Peter yelled, hanging off of the rope swing waving her over. "Push me!" He giggled, swinging his legs as he tried to get some air.

Y/n smiled as she walked over, pushing down the bit of her that wanted to be pushed on a swing too. "How high?" She asked, giving peter a few pushes, only ever getting "Higher" as a response.

"Wait!" Y/n could hear someone say from the playground, she turned to check it out but before she could see who had yelled Peter and the tire swing swung back and knocked her on her feet.

Both her and peter were laid on the mulch, scrapes from the wood gracing their hands, tears trailing down both their cheeks. "I'm so sorry!" Peter cried, missing one shoe.

"It's my fault, I wasn't looking." Y/n tried to smile, tried to not slip into her little headspace as she often did when hurt. "I didn' mean to!" She sobbed, her pain bearable but her worry for peter making her chest squeeze.

Tony and MJ walked over to peter, Tony picking him up and MJ checking his ankle to make sure it wasn't hurt.

Y/n stayed seated, tears still dripping down her cheeks as she tried to will herself to stand up and walk away, but the aching in her chest as she watched Peter be worried over made her feel worse. "It's okay, Baby." Bucky said quietly, approaching her like she was an animal ready to run at the first sign of danger. "You got a couple of owies, huh?" Bucky squatted down, now level with Y/n.

"'M fine Buck." She tried her hardest to sound big, to sound put together.

"You're bleeding, Baby." Bucky helped her stand, brushing the mulch off of her before he looked over her hands. "Let's go get these cleaned up, hm?" He asked, waiting for Y/n to agree.

Y/n wasn't sure what was happening, or why Bucky was acting so sweet and kind to her. And she couldn't get his use of 'Owie' out of her head. But she felt hazy, not sure if she could stay big too much longer, her hands stinging more and more as the minutes passed.

The moment she nodded her head in agreement Bucky picked her up, one arm acting as a seat for her, Y/n's arms quickly wrapping around his neck. "Bucky!" She squealed as he walked them towards the compound. "'m too heavy, put me down!"

"I feel offended, Baby." Bucky chuckled, not out of breath or even slightly winded as he held her close. "I'm a super soldier, I can carry you no problem."

Y/n tried her best to think of a comeback, think of something to say to make him understand that her being picked up wasn't right. Yet the warmth his arms and body gave her, and the few forehead kisses he planted on her forehead as he walked made her disputes die the moment she thought of them.

"Okay." Bucky whispered, walking into his room then his bathroom, turning on the light before setting Y/n on the counter. "Let's get these hands patched up, okay?" Y/n nodded her head absentmindedly.

"T'anks." She said in a quiet voice, hands held out as Bucky cleaned her scrapes. "'m sorry for falling."

"Look at me, Baby." Bucky said, his hand resting under her chin. "You didn't do anything wrong, you just looked away for a second, it's okay, sometimes little's get distracted." He said calmly, quickly getting back to dabbing ointment on her hands.

"'m not a little!" Y/n said defensively.

"Y/n." Bucky looked her in the eyes. "Do you want a regular band aid? Or a princess one?" His words were said with a serious tone, and the look in his eyes made Y/n think he would definitely know if she lied.

"Princess Band aid." She pouted, hating that he saw through her. "Bu' maybe I jus' like princesses." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I know you like princesses, you have Princess blankets, and princess barbies, you also have a princess stuffie that you hide behind your bookshelf." Bucky said nonchalantly.

"How do you know all of 'dat?" She shook her head, looking at Bucky confused.

"I snoop when you go to the bathroom when we have movie nights in your room." He shrugged.

"Dat's creeping, Buck." Y/n giggled.

"Where do I hide my favorite gum?"

"The top shelf of the cupboard beside your fridge!" She cheered.

"Yes you creep, you know that because you sneak around when we have movie night here." He tickled her sides, making her giggle and forget all about her scraped hands.

"Okay, we can be creep buddies den." She held out her pinky.

"Creep buddies." He smiles, linking his pinky with hers, helping her off the counter, promising to turn on her favorite Princess movie if she had a snack. With the way Y/n giggled and smiled and seemed to come out of her shell, Bucky knew that he and Little Y/n would get along just fine.

[mystargirl-interlude]

𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞(s)

Billy dunne x fem reader. Yes I’m aware I put this in the finnick tag, it’s the same actor and idgaf so keep it cute

smut, talk of sex, drugs and everything in between, fic is veryyy AU like the interviewer isn’t billys daughter, it was never specified but I imagine it as grahams and everyone in the band are still good friends. Read note at the end

2006

Narrator: let’s talk about the incident of ‘76

Daisy: “what a time to be alive” she said before bursting out laughing

Karen: “messy, messy, messy”

Graham choked on his water

Warren: original Pam and Tommy I swear *starts cackling* y/n was the og 90s girl before the 90s especially her fashion sense…. And other things..”

Eddie just started at the camera

Y/n: “made a shit ton of money” She says, laughing when someone out of frame catches her eye

Billy: “well. Um.” He stutters out rubbing his beard before he’s thrown a magazine by someone out of frame. “Oh, well this pretty much sums up the year” he says before flipping the magazine around to the camera

1976

“Fuck” You whine out, attempting to clench your legs around Billy’s head.

“Keep the camera straight doll” he rasps out before going back to absolutely devouring your cunt. Your senses are completely overwhelmed between billy’s head between your thighs suctioning his mouth to your swollen clit and the loud party in the next hotel room over with the rest of the band. You guys snuck away as soon as possible, leading to billy stripping you of all your clothes but making you leave your high heels on

“Billy, shit I’m gonna cum” you loudly moan out as you move the camera closer to your cunt. You swear you almost smacked the shit out of him when he took his mouth off your pussy stopping your orgasm. He sat up so that he could kiss you, immediately shoving his tongue in your mouth as you lightly suck on it.

Billy grabbed the camera from your hands and pointed it down at you as you laughed grinning up at him. “Fucking ethereal” he groans out as he looks through the grainy video. He grabs your leg putting it over his shoulder as he lightly kisses your ankle that still has your high heel straps on. He switches the Camera to his other hand as he gropes your tit “billy if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna go crazy” “you already are doll”

Next thing you know you’re getting pounded into oblivion with a camera positioned at the both of you, billy had your legs around his hips as he was in a sitting up position absolutely rearranging your organs “Fuck, Fucking hell” you almost scream out as you feel his tip hit that spongey spot deep inside you “yeah, did I find it?” He groans out “yes! Yeah! Right there!” You whine as he starts rubbing your clit so fast that you swear his hand blurs.

“Oh my god! Billy, I’m cumming, yeah!” You say as you clench so hard around his you almost push him out completely

“Fuck, Jesus Christ” he moans. You can tell he’s about to cum by the way he’s twitching inside you “where do you want me doll” he groans as he pulls your head back exposing your neck as your eyes roll completely back in your head and your hair sticks to your face from sweat and mixed saliva

“Inside, please, fill me up” you moan as you being to cum mid sentence, white hot pleasure taking over your body and Billy’s cum filling you up only adds to the feeling.

You only take less than a minute before you’re grabbing the camera again and pressing record as you climb on top of him shoving his dick back inside you. He grabs the camera from your hold to switch the view pointing it at your cunt bouncing up and down on him.

The sound of the wet smacking from your creamy cum at his base fills the room as you viscously ride him as he begins to flick at your clit again and shows the camera the prominent bulge deep in your stomach.

The next thing you guys filmed was billy face fucking you to oblivion and the last thing filmed was billy pointing the camera down at you giggling with a wide smile and he rubbed his hand up and down ur body that was covered in sweat and thick layers of your shared cum

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Way too many rounds later you and billy took a shower (and definitely didn’t go for 2 more) and went out for a smoke without thinking twice about the video camera lying on your dirtied hotel bed and most definitely didn’t think that Jonah berg would be the one to find it when he went looking for you two

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

“Rockstars steamy x rated film leaked as many tell their opinions” you read out to billy and the band from a rolling stone magazine

Everyone had a shocked look in their face while billys face was pink with rage and looked ready to commit murder

“If it helps I haven’t heard one bad thing about it” Daisy says

“Yeah I mean you guys looked rockin So I don’t see why anyone would be too brutal….” Warren rambles before slowing down once he realized everyone was staring at him

“You watched my brothers sex tape…?” Graham says just above a whisper absolutely horrified

“Okay- we’ll- hear me out” Warren stutters out with his pointer finger in the air trying to make a point

“NOPE NOPE” Graham cuts him of by dramatically gagging and running out of the room

Warren turns back to the band once Graham left with a wide guilty grin on his face

“So um..” he begins

“I don’t care that you watched it Warren, I would be surprised if you hadn’t watched it” you say rolling your eyes

“Right okay” he strains out defeated

“Okay… as I was saying, I haven’t heard anything bad, I mean obviously it’s an awful thing but there is little to none slut shaming which is surprising, everyone is just being horny but hey it’s better than everyone calling you a whore” Daisy shrugs

“Okay but did everyone forget what we are here for, you guys have tour press today in less than 3 hours” you stress to the band

Billy wraps with hand around your neck and kisses your head.

It’s not like you and billy are deathly afraid of public pda, it’s actually the quite opposite, you couldn’t even count the amount of times you guys had been caught with his tongue down your throat, hand wrapped around your neck and practically dry humping you In the middle of downtown Los Angeles.

“We are gonna figure something out with that psycho, I promise.” He mumbles into your hair.

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

“Daisy over here!” “Billy to your left!”

“What do you have to say about the leaked videos?” “Who’s the man you married Daisy?”

“Okay okay ONE at a time please” rod interrupts

“What do you all have to say about the leaked explicit tape of your lead man and his girlfriend and it possibly ruining her image?” one reporter asks the band as if billy isn’t right there

“Why should it ruin her image? It was an intimate moment between the two that got leaked by a fucking pervert, I’ve only heard people talk about y/n and nothing about billy, it’s NATURAL, y/n is an extremely talented and good looking woman, you guys are talking about it like you’re a bunch of fuckin virgins.” Daisy says to all the reporters

“And we will be expecting to see Jonah berg in court” Is the only thing billy said before rod cut time.

2006

Warren: The berg-dunne-l/n lawsuit was the biggest thing of the decade and even in pop culture, I mean I still hear about it now”

Daisy: billy and y/n were very shameless people, they had the guts most people didn’t have, that being said; for all 7 days the case lasted they had every second broadcasted on live television

Y/n: what can i say? My kink is karma” she shrugs

Warren: I remember that the day they had me testify when we were leaving the building it was just a sea of paparazzi and flashing cameras, they even had security trying to pave a way to the car through all the paps, I also remember that once the security guard moved out the way and y/n came into their view- I will always remember this, it was truly an iconic moment but one of them just yelled out “y/n what’s up baby!” and then the blinding lights got ten times worse” he says with a chuckle

Karen: it was just insane that even despite the fact that they showed up to court everyday high cocaine they still managed to win the case getting 4 million dollars which mind you, was worth what 17 million today would be from rolling stone and Jonah berg” She says in disbelief

Daisy: remember when I said they were both very shameless people?

Eddie: yeah well after the case people and when I say people I mean like two news outlets called them embarrassed prudes or something like that and them being stubborn decided to really shut them up. In better words they decided to be the cover of the fall ‘76 playboy issue” he says thinning his lips

Rod: if I recall correctly I’m pretty sure that was the most popular playboy magazine of all time, I mean it was everywhere, every gas station, every corner you turned, they even had one of those big posters put up on the walls out by Venice beach area

Graham: yeah, um it wasn’t fun seeing my brother and his girlfriend naked every corner I turned.” He strains out

Billy: well it was definitely an interesting year, even after the case was closed we still had paparazzi following our every move, sometimes it would be worse than others, I remember we were at a party once after a show in Vegas and me and y/n were absolutely trashed, basically blackout drunk and high but the cameras were there and the next morning we of course saw our faces plastered on the cover of star magazine” he says slightly laughing

Y/n: yeah that was definitely a magazine cover! But we were practically hanging off each other trying not to completely collapse on the floor 

Narrator: do you ever wish you were never famous and lived a normal life?

Y/n: Well to be honest no.

Billy: even though it was a very hectic year that was probably the best year in that era, I got married to my wife that year

Y/n: that would be meeeeee” she says cheekily

Karen: I had a joke that was saying “rub it in their face put a rock on her hand” because them two were basically a married couple at that point and they took that seriously

Extra

Narrator: let’s talk about the incident of ‘76

Jonah berg: next question.

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Y/n: it was all very-“ she’s cut off by billy running behind her and quickly grabbing her face and hastily kissing her and then running off before she can even process what happened.

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

During the break with the interview y/n and billy are talking and out of the blue she sits up remember something

“Do you remember the time we had a threesome with Daisy” she laughs out

✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

LMFAO the way it took me over a month to finish this😭 chi I had testing and I was busy fighting and doxxing swifties on stantwt but now I wanna write a billy x reader x daisy smut 🙁 but I do apologize for this now stop harassing me in my asks for this fic anyway see you next time fatties

[its-time-to-write]

hey big fan of your writing!! you write jamie so perfectly 💜 pls forgive me if you’ve already written something about this (i haven’t been able to find it if so) but could you write something post-mom city episode with the reader taking care of jamie when he’s hurt after the game and telling him how proud she is?? 🥹 thank you!!

This one’s canon compliant with you don’t want to know me for no reason other than the fact that I like to make my fics match up. It’s fun for me to pretend like I could write something with chapters someday😇 Hope you like it!

you’re in the kitchen humming

Of course, the one game you can’t go to is the one where Jamie gets injured so badly he has to come home on crutches. He’s not even the one who texts you about it. It’s Ted who writes, Your boy got hurt pretty badly. Might want to come pick him up when we get back.

So now you’re headed to AFC Richmond because Jamie only just let you know they’re back. 

we’re in the treatment room, he says, and you don’t even take a moment to ask who we is.

It’s Roy and Keeley, and you aren’t a little bit surprised. They’re been passing around a bottle and laughing, so obviously Jamie can’t be hurt that badly. His right foot is stuck in a bucket of ice, so you get him up, say goodnight to Roy and Keeley, and help him tipsily hop to your car. Jamie chatters on about the game the whole ride home, only leaving room for you to interject the occasional “mhm,” or “I’m so proud of you!”

It’s somewhat of a chore to get him out of the car, mostly because he’s laughing so hard at the sheer absurdity of the situation, humor exaggerated by the champagne. 

You finally maneuver him onto the couch and get him laid down, leg elevated. He’s still giggling.

You flip on the kitchen light to make him some food. You wonder briefly how many times you’ve done this: put Jamie on the couch, made him food, and let him take you to bed. It’s been a few years’ worth.

You’re at the stove humming softly, when you hear a tap thump, tap thump as Jamie hobbles over to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“Oi, you need to be lying down, mister,” you scold.

Jamie just presses his face into the crook of your neck.

“Can’t get comfortable. I’m still in my kit and I need help getting it off.”

His words are laced with a suggestive tone, made more apparent by the fact that his hands are no longer on your waist per se, but more under your waistband.

You put down the spatula and turn off the stove.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say in a tone that means listen the fuck up, “if you want even half a chance of getting in my pants tonight, you’ll go back to the couch and put ice on your ankle.”

His hands slip away and he groans, but complies. You shake your head and slide the eggs onto a plate.

You hate eggs, but they’re Jamie’s go-to post-match food. You asked him why once, and he said something about his mum and it being the only thing she could cook without burning.

So you suck it up and make him scrambled eggs every time he comes home from a game, whether home or away. Tonight, you bring him his plate on the couch, sit next to him, and hold it for him to eat.

You say softly, “I’m really proud of you, Jaim,” as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Didn’t really get a chance to say it, but I am. You absolutely smashed it today.”

Jamie smirks. “I got your emojis,” he says. “Had twenty-one missed texts from you, none of ‘em containing a single word.” He puts down his fork and reaches into a pocket for his phone. “Got a fuck-ton of hearts, some fireworks, and one squirrel.”

You blush. Ah yes. The squirrel.

“Don’t think I can make it up the stairs,” he laments. “Might just have to stay on the couch all night. Sad. Alone. Fucking horny.”

You roll your eyes and flick his arm with your free hand. “You done eating? Because you need a shower. You smell, and I’m not fucking you until you’re clean.”

Jamie grins. “But you are going to fuck me.”

You shake your head. Yes, you are. With a goal like that, how could you not? Plus his foot’s injured, and he must be in pain. He could use a good distraction.

Jamie’s mind has to be going in a similar direction because he asks, “You gonna shower with me? I hate showering alone.”

“Obviously,” you respond. “You can barely stand on your own and you’re going to need help with your hair.”

—

This shower is a lot less sexy than some might imagine. Jamie is trying to keep his balance without putting weight on his foot, but it’s difficult because it’s slippery. You’ve made it through most of his shower routine (and yours too) but now you’re at the final step. Conditioner. 

You grab the bottle and Jamie frowns. “You remember how much to use?”

You nod, but he’s not convinced. “Let me put it on your hand,” he says, grabbing the bottle and forgetting to be careful of his ankle. He puts too much weight on it and it gives out with a “fuck,” leaving Jamie’s lips. 

He’s slipping and trying to grab onto something and that something is you so now you’re both tangled on the floor of the shower, water running in your faces and Jamie grimacing from pain.

—

You do manage to get him back up and condition his hair to his satisfaction (“It’s a delicate balance, babe,”) but the slip was not good for Jamie’s ankle. You have to go back downstairs for more ice, so now he’s lying flat on his back on the bed, towel wrapped precariously loose around his waist. When you’re satisfied that the ice is secure and Jamie’s foot is at a good angle, you flop down in the bed next to him. You’re still in your towel, too.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kick,” you say.

Jamie asks, “Which one? I did a lot of those,” and you laugh.

“The one to block Man City’s goal. The one where you landed wrong. It was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so, so proud of you. I just can’t get over the fact that you can do all that and then you come home to me. It boggles my mind.”

Jamie’s blowing tickly breaths in your ear to make you shiver. “I was pretty sexy, weren’t I?”

You laugh again. “Everything’s always about being sexy with you, isn’t it? Sure, I’ll admit you were sexy. But you were also admirable and selfless and brave and amazing. You can’t sell yourself short.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment, and you think he’s fallen asleep. You look over to see him staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

You ask, “Are you crying?” and the words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying fuck no but you know he means fuck yes so you roll over to kiss him, because sometimes it’s better to leave some things unsaid. He’s pretty great, and you’re glad you’re the one who gets to tell him.

[gremlinwithakeyboard]

Stuff I use regularly that's technically not a mobility aid but sure help me get places I otherwise wouldn't be able to

Bicycle - Fairly obvious one. Gets me to the shops fast without killing my legs like walking or driving would. I can even lean on it when I'm walking with it to still take weight off my questionable knees!

Noise cancelling headphones - Going out used to be a pain for the whole family because you can only spend so long out when you don't know where the next "safe" toilet is. The world opened up so much more to me when I no longer had to worry about extractor fans and hand dryers.

Long sleeved shirt/jacket - Contamination OCD freaking sucks but fortunately I've got it mild enough that if I cover my hand while touching stuff like buttons and door handles my brain doesn't go too crazy. So it's useful to have something with nice long sleeves I can retreat my hands into. I'd use gloves but they make my hands feel uncomfortable.

Bottle of hand sanitizer - Similar to the above one. Sometimes I'm having a bit of An Episode™ and everything is extra dirty or I dropped something on The Ground and can't just leave it somewhere until my brain forgets it's supposed to be toxic. Squirting a ton of gel onto the offending hand/object is a lot quicker and easier than retreating to the nearest bathroom to go clean it, and most of the time it's enough to keep The Thoughts at bay.

A solid pair of walking/military/safety boots - Combined with my arch supports, I can manage a bit more walking without totally killing my legs. I think it's the ankle support? With black leather military ones I can even wear them with formal wear under a long enough pair of trousers. They're not so fun when it's hot, but while I can function on a pair of trainers, walking boots are my usual everyday shoe. My latest pair even have hooks at the top instead of lace holes so I can either have them as slipon trainers with extra ankle if I'm going cycling or for a long car ride, or I can quickly lace them up all the way if I'm going walking. I was absolutely spoiled by a pair of leather safety boots I got a year or so ago. When they were new, I could walk to the morrisons on the other side of town and back and the only pain I had was from tying the laces too tight. Unfortunately the leather stretched and the boots got too big.

Not sure why I made this post, just wanted to ramble about it for a while. Feel free to add stuff!

[wisssp]

Whistling in the Dark

again: this is a Weasley twins x oc piece, if you don't like it-don't read it(:

female reader; first person pov; slow burn; smut; minors-DNI

wc: 1,387

Chapter 4

The party had come to an end, Paige and I being the last two guests over. We had agreed to help the boys clean up, due to losing a bet. We put on some good music and sped up the cleaning process to the best of our ability. We tied off the last couple trash bags and saw the clock was right at 3 in the morning.

"Do you two just want to stay here for the remainder of the night?" Harry's voice pipes up with the simple question that he wasn't aware was extremely weighted. The tension thickened the air instantly when Paige spoke up.

"I don't see why that would be an issue. Lee, you game?" I looked at her completely shocked that she asked zero questions.

"Where would we sleep? I don't want to wake up to your pervy house mates watching me sleep." I cross my arms over my chest and look at everyone expectantly.

"You can crash with us, Lady Bird, and Paige can crash with Ronald. Boom. Problem solved." George throws everyone a thumbs up and starts making his way up the stairs to his room. Paige looked at me and shrugged, also making her way up the stairs. I guess i'm the only one that thinks this is a recipe for disaster. I reach the bottom of the stairs when Fred appears next to me.

"After you." He motions up the stairs with his hand and a sly smirk dances on his lips. I start walking up, his eyes burning a hole through my dress. I then arrive at their door and turn the handle as quietly as I can. Once I close the door behind me, I turn to be welcomed with the mixed scents of smoke and cinnamon. I see various reds and greens strewn across the room, differentiating their things. I also see George fixing up a makeshift bed with a ton of blankets.

"So Lady Bird, you'll be in my bed and i'll be on the floor." Fred guides me toward his side of the room and smiles at me warmly.

"Unless you get too cold and want some body heat." George looks up at me and winks. I laugh and roll my eyes in response. As i'm about to ask for some pajamas, Fred throws a shirt and some boxers my way. I thank him and move to the bathroom to change. I quickly get dressed and go make myself comfortable in my bed for the night.

"Thanks for sleeping on the floor, Fred." I express to the darkness.

"Uh huh." he responds.

"Fred are you really upset?" George laughs.

"It's cold down here and my bed is soft." Fred pouts while we continue to laugh.

"You offered this, I don't know what you want from me." I shrug even though he can't see me.

"I know what he wants from you-" I hear George start before he's cut off by a loud smack, followed by a tiny 'ow'. I giggle at their nonsense and bid them goodnight, slowly drifting off to sleep.

~

I open my eyes and quickly understand it's still the middle of the night, however my bladder doesn't have any concept of time. After I relieve myself, I carefully tip toe over to the bed when I accidentally kick the fuck out of Fred. I fell to my knees and pressed my palms against him, profusely apologizing. He's lightly chuckling at me and reassuring that he's okay when I go to get up. He grabs my ankle.

"Can I please share the bed with you? It really sucks down here." Fred is practically pleading. I can't blame him, considering I just kicked him. On the other hand, I want to have fun with this.

"You have to ask me from your knees."

"Are you fucking mad?" He stares at me.

"Have fun on the ground, Weasley." I sit on the side of the bed.

"Wait, hold on." He grabs my ankle once again and slides over in front of me. His hands drift up my legs and land high up on my thighs. He lifts himself to his knees as his hands trail up my sides. At this moment, we are eye to eye thanks to the foot's difference in our height. He pushes my hair behind my ear and leans in towards me.

"May I..." he whispers and his lips meet my neck.

"Please..." kiss.

"Sleep with..." kiss.

"You." another kiss.

No longer able to control myself, I grab his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine. He tastes slightly of vanilla which makes me weak in the knees. He hovers over me and places his hand under my back, moving us towards the headboard. His lips move softly against mine, bringing a small moan from the back of my throat. He starts kissing my chest and inching his way up my neck, placing hickeys along the way. He then grips the back of my neck with his other hand and bites my lower lip, kissing me hard.

This lights a fire in me and guides me to flip us over so I'm straddling him. I remove my shirt and he continues to run his hands down my body, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touches. I moan into his mouth as I start to fumble with the waistband of his boxers. He begins to smile into the kiss as he grabs my hand, moving it away. I pull out of the kiss.

"What's wrong?" I whisper.

"I really think we've both had a lot to drink and need to slow down here." He lightly chuckles. I pull back, almost offended at the statement after he just begged to get in this bed with me.

"If that's how you feel i'm not arguing with you." I get off of him and turn my back to him, pulling the covers up around my neck.

"You can sleep here but if I feel you even so much as breathe on me, i'm pushing you on the floor." I mumble towards the wall.

"I'm real sorry Lady Bird, I didn't mean to piss you off." He almost sounded concerned, but I really couldn't give less of a fuck to be honest.

"Please, Frederick. I'm trying to sleep." I try to get him to stop talking and leave me be.

"Lee, i'm serious i'm not trying to offend you." He goes to place a hand on my arm, but I quickly put a pillow between us, making him draw his arm back rather quickly.

"Fred. Shut the fuck up. Please." I really just don't want to talk about it anymore at this point.

"Seriously? Lee, come on now." He once again goes to grab my arm.

"Fred I am not fucking around. I will push you off of this bed." I glare at him over my shoulder. He finally lays down flat on his back.

"Merlin, Fred. She only had to ask you to stop about seventy times." George pipes up from a few feet away, followed by another loud smack and a small 'ow'. I smile a bit at the wall. I start getting comfortable, when moments later I realize I can't sleep.

Did I come on too strong? Is he not as attracted to me as I think he is? Am I obsessed with him?

So many questions and thoughts are running through my head, making it even harder for me to relax. I then feel a calloused hand grab onto my upper thigh, pulling me backward. My back hits a toned chest and I then realize that the pillow is gone.

I feel a soft kiss on the top of my head as his arms wrap around me tightly. I'm still upset but I'm too tired to push him away.

"You seriously don't know how long i've waited to kiss you again. I am very grateful for the opportunity." I feel another kiss on the top of my head, followed by a deep inhale and sigh.

"G'night Lady bird. Sweetest dreams."

[heystovepipeboys]

More about whatever Strange Outback is! Please 🙏

Strange Outback is one of my most indulgent Australiana projects. it will be a novel set nebulously sometime in maybe the 90s and is sort of a spooky IT-esque adventure with a cast of teens during a bad bushfire summer. a few kids go missing and the remaining teens have to band together to try to get them back from the malicious entities that took them. i haven't written a ton of it yet, but am sort of in planning/drafting stages and i've been enjoying trying to describe the oppressively hot small town Australian summer experience, as in this little sample:

Stepping out of the cool sanctuary of the bakery, the thick green plastic fly strips slapping at her brown skin, Jed Roberts squinted in the sun. In her hand, the white paper bag holding the meat pies and sausage rolls inside was already turning transparent with grease from the flaky pastry. The carton of iced coffee in her other hand instantly started dripping with condensation. The air rippled off the black asphalt of the road in waves, and the footpath wasn’t much better; the radiant heat boiled up Jed’s ankles and shins above her cheap thongs. The sun beat down orange and dusty as she walked over to the ancient blue rustbucket of a ute her uncle had let her borrow once she got her Ps. The mismatched panels of the bloody thing were peeling. The whole ute looked like it might give up the ghost and just fall apart at any moment, and the loud screeching creak it made when she popped the door just added more weight to that impression. Jed slid inside, tossing the greasy bag down in the passenger seat. The leather was cracked and scratchy under her thighs, and as boiling hot as the rest of the cab. She’d left the windows down to try and get a little airflow, but it hadn’t done shit. The heat still sucked the air out of her lungs the moment she was fully seated inside the oven on wheels. Sweat welled up from the backs of her legs, oozing out from the undersides of her bent knees and rolling down her brown skin with a wet, creeping tickle.

thank you for the ask! <3

[ramblingoak]

My Husband Is Now Bones

Chapter 3:  Anyway, Here’s Wonderwall

Omega’s plan was simple:

Escape Hell

Grab Terzo’s Body

????

Happily Ever After

Catch up with Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

Terzo x Omega

This is for the Ghost Creative Challenge put on by @petrifyingpapas .  The first week’s theme is “Resurrection”.

Warnings: major character death, horror themes, blood, zombie violence/gore, once more for the people in the back: ZOMBIE VIOLENCE/GORE, ZOMBIES DOING ZOMBIE THINGS, NSFW, 18+ only MDNI

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Omega turned away from Terzo and stared in disbelief at the necromancer.  Were they fucking serious?  Mary rolled their eyes and jerked their hands up, the chains Omega had wrapped around them rattling as they wiggled their fingers.  Omega sighed and glanced down at his left hand, two fresh fingers in place of the bloody stumps Terzo had left him. 

“Thank you.”

“No worries Big Guy, happy to help!”  Mary tugged at the chains around their wrists and tried to move their legs, but Omega had wrapped some around their ankles too.  They had been way too eager to leave after the initial chaos had ended.

After they had brought Terzo back wrong.

“So uh, how about you let me go?”  

Omega snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Mary with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re not leaving until you fix him.”

“Fix what?  Does he look dead anymore?”

Terzo chose that moment to start violently jerking on his shackles again, thick bands Omega had found attached to the wall.  His eyes were wild and unblinking as they moved back and forth from Omega and Mary, snarling at them both.  There was still blood and bits of…Omega on his chin.  The blood had eventually dripped down his neck, running across the fresh scar there before drying.

“Fine, he’s not dead, but that’s not him!”  Omega shoved himself off the floor and stalked towards Mary, delighting in how the man shrunk back away from him.  “Fix him.”

“Once again, fix what?!”

“He ate my fingers and I’m pretty sure he wants to eat more!”

“Ok well, yeah that was weird.  He’s probably just confused!  I told you he might not be himself for a few days!”

Omega reached down and grabbed one of Mary’s scrawny arms then began to drag them across the floor towards Terzo. 

“Alright, if he’s just confused I’ll chain you up together.  Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

“Wait!  Fuck, wait!  Ok ok ok!”  Terzo had moved as far as he could on his chains, clawing at the air trying to reach them.  Mary had started whimpering and trying to kick at Omega but he barely felt it.  All he felt right now was despair over everything.  He had been so close to having everything back the way it was.  To having his lover back.  Instead he had this thing in Terzo’s place.  Did Terzo even exist anymore?  Or was this all that was left of him?  

This thing wasn’t his Papa.

Omega grabbed the front of Mary’s shirt and lifted them up so they were just out of Terzo’s reach.  Saliva was hitting them both as Terzo continued to snarl and bite at the air, desperate to reach them.  When Mary didn’t say anything Omega  moved him a little closer and Terzo was able to grab a hold of their arm, immediately digging the nails of those gloves of his into Mary’s flesh.  Mary cried out and jerked away, losing part of their shirt and a lot of skin to Terzo’s grip.

“Alright!  I have an idea!”  Omega threw Mary to the floor and watched as he desperately scooted back from Terzo.  He had sucked his gloves into his mouth and was eagerly running his tongue along them to collect the small amount of Mary’s blood he had gotten.  “Unholy fuck, just, just let me look through my books, ok?  Get me the fuck away from him and give me my bag.”

Omega watched Mary for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to trust him.  The main issue was he didn’t know any other necromancers and without gathering a shit ton of supplies he had no way to get in touch with Cowbell again.  Or anyone else in Hell for that matter.  Unfortunately, Mary was his best option right now so he grabbed him one more time and pulled him back against the wall he was at before. 

“You have a day to figure something out.”

“A day?  That’s not goi–”

“One.  Day.”  Omega grabbed Mary’s bag and dropped it on top of them before he turned to walk back to the corner across from Terzo.  He was crouched down in the dark, but Omega could see him still sucking on his gloves.

“You should try talking to him.”  Omega turned to look back over at Mary.  They had gotten a book out and were slowly sifting through the pages.  “If your boyfriend is in there, maybe talking to him will wake him up.  Or whatever.” 

Omega sighed and sat down, closing his eyes briefly while leaning against the wall.  What was he supposed to say?  So far Terzo just seemed to get angry if he tried to talk to him.  Although angry didn’t seem like the right word…hungry.  Terzo just seemed hungry.  

“How about you play him something?  You lugged that guitar of yours down here, yeah?”

Omega glanced at his acoustic guitar leaning in the corner.  He had grabbed it on a whim after getting dressed and calling Mary from Terzo’s room.  He had thought of the nights where Terzo couldn’t sleep, where the pressure of being Papa kept him up at night.  Omega would get his guitar out and they’d go through a few Ghost songs before moving on to whatever else came to mind.  Music helped to soothe them both when the stress and anxiety got too much.  He had thought that maybe having it around while Terzo recovered would be helpful.

Playing ABBA always cheered Terzo up.

He cleared his throat and reached out for it, easily settling it in his lap like he had done hundreds of times before.  Omega could still feel Terzo’s eyes on him, could still hear him lapping at his fingers.  He took a deep breath and got his hands into position.

“Alright, any requests?”

“Yeah how abo–”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”  Omega ignored Mary’s irritated mumbling and finally looked up at Terzo.  He was already staring right at him, those beautiful mismatched eyes of his boring right into Omega’s purple ones.  Terzo was in there somewhere, he had to be.  “Papa?  Any requests?”

Terzo’s only response was to bare his teeth and let out a long growl.

“It’s ok Papa, I know just the song.”

It wasn’t Omega’s first time running naked in the woods.

After he had stumbled out of Cowbell’s portal all he could do at first was writhe around on the ground in pain.  His skin burned as if it was on fire, searing pain racing up and down his body.  He couldn’t get his limbs to cooperate, he couldn’t even fucking see at first.  Omega had laid there for he didn’t even know how long, just breathing heavily in a pile of leaves and looking up at the moon.  When he had finally been able to move without wanting to scream in pain he instead wanted to scream for a different reason.  

He had no idea where the fuck he was.

Omega rolled over onto his hands and knees, taking a moment to collect himself.  He closed his eyes and whispered the phone number Cowbell had made him memorize.  He had promised him the man would help, that they owed Cowbell a favor and all Omega had to do was remind the necromancer of that and they’d be happy to come to the abbey to do “a little old fashioned black magic”.  Now all Omega had to do was get to the abbey, get through the catacombs, get into the passageway that led to Terzo’s room and then use Terzo’s phone.  

But where was the abbey?  He had explored these woods before many times, at first on his own when he was still newly summoned.  Other times with his fellow Ghouls’ or even siblings when there were rituals.  Usually he had been out here with Terzo, it was a good way for them to have some quiet moments together.  When their relationship progressed the moments became less quiet and less clothed.  His Papa liked being chased through the trees and Omega had never been good at denying any of Terzo’s requests.

He groaned and stood up on shaking legs, feeling like a newborn deer.  Fuck, he needed to get himself together.  Sitting here reliving the past wasn’t getting him to the abbey any faster.  He needed to get moving and keep an eye out for any signs the abbey was close.  There were old stone markers scattered around, if he could find one of those that would be the best sign he was heading in the right direction.

Omega took a deep breath and started forwards, reviewing his plan again and again as he went.  Get to the abbey and then get into the catacombs.  Find the passageway that leads to Terzo’s room so he could get some clothes and a mask.  After that he just needed to call the necromancer, set up a meeting point, get Terzo’s body to the meeting point and from there…well.  That’s where that little bit of black magic needed to do its thing.

It wasn’t long before Omega started to recognize trees and stumps, things that he had already walked by, but apparently made his way back to.  He let out a frustrated growl and fell to his knees, biting his lips to hold in all the other anguished sounds he wanted to make.  Omega was starting to think he’d have to wait till daybreak, but that held a greater risk of him being caught.  Not to mention the greater risk of them moving Terzo’s body somewhere else.  

“Fuck!”

He dropped his head into his hands, letting his claws dig briefly into his scalp.  The pain helped him focus again.  Find the abbey…get into the catacombs…go through the passageway…call the necromancer.  He just needed one fucking sign telling him where the abbey was.  After a deep breath he began to murmur a prayer to Lucifer, begging for the sign he needed.

“Lucifer, please.  Show me the way, lead me back to him…”  Omega waited for a moment but didn’t feel anything, nothing that told him Lucifer was listening.  He couldn’t help but feel rage build up in his chest, a deep burning anger that Lucifer let this happen in the first place.  “You should’ve stopped this.  Terzo devoted his life to you and he did nothing to deserve this.”

Omega tried to collect himself, raging at the Olde One wasn’t going to do any good.  It was obvious that for some reason Lucifer had abandoned them.  There was no one listening to help him and Omega needed to stop trying.  Lucifer hadn’t answered his prayers while Omega was in Hell, he shouldn’t have expected anything different after he left.

As Omega planted his hands into the ground to shove himself up an odd sound made him stop and hold his breath.  A sharp ringing was echoing in the night and he jerked his head towards where it was coming from.  The sound rang again and Omega took a few steps towards it, nearly laughing in disbelief.  Maybe Lucifer had been listening after all…

Omega was already running by the time the abbey’s bell rang again.

Chapter 4: World’s Worst Necromancer

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[transmasc-wizard]

the RTC stuff has me thinking and like. wow abled people really, really underestimate how much disability affects disabled people huh

the fact that you can even REWRITE ricky potts to be abled signals something is wrong. and i mean that morally, like, "why the fuck would you erase a disabled character?", but i also mean that on a writing level.

i am multiply disabled. i am afraid of staircases & showers, hate parties, dislike babies & small children, wear hoodies a ton, cannot wear earrings, wear combat boots a ton, don't often go out for lunch, and cannot dance. all of those things are connected to the first one, and they're just a fraction of my examples.

afraid of staircases & showers, cannot dance, wears boots: my balance is bad due to leg & ankle pain. I'm afraid of situations where falling is already more likely. i'm also not great with dancing for obvious reasons! and i wear boots that make me feel more secure.

dislike parties, babies, small children, can't wear earrings: i have severe auditory hypersensitivity. the first 3 are because i already can't stand lots of normal noises and those things are even louder than usual noises. i can't wear earrings, because i'm always wearing noise-cancelling headphones earrings don't fit under/can't be seen under.

hoodies, can't go out for lunch: i am. sooooo tired. all the time. i wear the most comfortable possible clothing and don't go places more than necessary to reserve my already low energy levels.

these are almost all things that affect my day-to-day life that aren't directly obvious disability things, and my disabilities are on the more manageable end. i don't need mobility aids on a 100% literal level (i need them on a "happily function" level, and thus am not currently happily functioning, but like. i could run out of a burning building without assistance). i could maybe, probably live alone. i can & do walk on a day to day basis, even if it sucks. i can usually hide being disabled if i'm in a situation where being visibly disabled is unsafe.

a character like ricky? who is 100% reliant on disability aids? who is constantly visibly disabled? THAT CHARACTER'S DISABILITIES, IF DONE PROPERLY, SHOULD NOT BE SOMETHING YOU CAN JUST WRITE OUT AND HAVE THEIR STORY STILL MAKE SENSE.

[system-splintered]

I think I officially became Disabled™️ this weekend. Finally got my first "but you don't look disabled" at my partner's birth giver's funeral, from her mother's foster mom.

It was absurdly annoying. I told her I left my cane in the car because it'd be in the way inside this house with twenty freaking people in it and I didn't have to walk far.

Putting my rant under a readmore so nobody has to see it.

I wish I didn't feel like I have to justify the fact that I can't work a normal job. I can't talk to strangers for more than two-three hours anymore, I get paranoid and angry and my PTSD + AVPD flares up bad; if I'm forced to stay out past my limit I will have to isolate myself for days to get back to normal, and usually have to double up my antipsychotics for a dose or two to get the paranoia to go away.

That's not even touching on the fact that I literally can't stand for more than maybe an hour, hour and a half on a great day with all potential pain meds stacked, and a 5 x 5 area to move around in.

I can't walk more than a half mile at most without sitting for 10-30, and with each break the distance between just gets shorter and shorter, by a factor of 1/2. And again, this would be on a great day with lots of energy, all the pain meds I'm allotted, and probably an absurd amount of caffeine. I can shop by myself at the neighborhood market but not the big Walmart, if we're talking a full grocery trip ($60-$100 of groceries, maybe 8-10 bags). If I need to go there I have to have someone with me to push the cart. My cane is a lot more supportive than leaning on the cart.

This doesn't even touch on being autistic+ADHD, which makes all of this so much harder because pain is a stimulus that can quickly become overstimulating, especially in places with bright lights and lots of vivid colors. The cereal aisle gives me a headache sometimes. But going from overstimulated to understimulated sucks for my ADHD because it's instant boredom city, even if I'm in a ton of pain with a migraine, having to lie down in the dark, I'm bored out of my skull the whole time. Can't even sleep without something playing in the background to distract me enough to sleep.

I can't live alone. My back basically decides I'm dead and goes into rigor mortis(/hj) if I haven't had a back massage in three days, with big hard knots that feel like having someone pinch my nerve endings and twist to rub out. Or sometimes just like I've been stabbed through with dozens of needles, all the way deep into my back muscles. It's miserable. My back is literally fucking broken in the one spot that keeps it stable while you're standing up.

I need someone to help me take care of myself. If I'm alone for too long I stop sleeping, eating, showering. It gets bad. With someone else I have some motivation to eat because I'm feeding them too, or on bad pain days, my partner cooks for me, even if it's after she's worked a full shift. Without someone talking to me daily, the paranoia gets bad really fast. I would need a lot heavier dose of antipsychotics and pain meds without having someone who loves me living with me.

I can't stand still more than five minutes without the pain steadily increasing. It gets past a five in just a few minutes of standing still and straight. I doubt I could last thirty minutes. I couldn't when I was "abled" (it took me a while to realize I never was, I was just significantly less disabled than I am now). I worked as a cashier for a few months in high school and literally had to just keep switching which leg I was holding myself up with, leaning weight on my other knee to take the weight off my feet, ankles, and shins. It was painful long before my first break 2 hours in.

But because I don't "look disabled" I'm not, right Karen? Fuck off and eat my crippled ass. I shouldn't have to justify my disability to anyone, much less her. Not getting into the drama there but let's just say, to keep it brief, my partner met her mom as an adult after not seeing her since she was 7. I sincerely doubt these foster parents were good ones. Good parents don't have meth addict kids 9/10 times (edit to explain this a bit more-I'm blaming the parents for making her mom's life so miserable she had to resort to that, I have no problem with people addicted to drugs, just doing drugs isn't wrong on its own. It's so often an ignored symptom of trauma and that's what I wanted to say by this)

Casual ableism is fucking annoying.

[heytherejulietx]

you’re all i want - richie tozier

↳ requested by anon; HELLOOOOOOO!!!. i was wondering if u could do a innocent shy reader x richie angst where yn doesn’t think she’s enough for richie bec the thinks his ex gfs were prettier please 💗💗

↳ 4.7k word count

↳ content warnings - major insecurities (body image, insecurities in general), angst, hurt / comfort, swearing, mentions of cheating, aged up losers, i suck at endings so it’s bad aishqjd. to anyone who suffers with insecurity issues, i promise you’re beautiful and i love you <3

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@bucky-j-barnes @whaddyameann @justanotherkpopstanlol @amberritonicole @deadyfreddy @3rrrr0r @dekine @michaelwheelers join my tag list

“do you like it?” y/n smiled softly as she let bev take the embroidered bracelet from her hand and watched as the redhead took a closer look at the red and green floss. she often spent quite a lot of her time making little trinkets for her friends. so far, she had made bev a collection of anklets and bracelets, knitted a scarf for stanley and a matching hat for bill, made stickers for ben, knitted a jumper for mike, made eddie tons of keychains, and thousands of bracelets and keychains for richie. his favourite one she had given him was actually an idea of bev’s; one night when the girls were having a sleepover, bev had taught y/n how to make a bracelet out of an old bra strap, and had given it to richie the day after. she hadn’t seen his wrist without it since.

“yeah!” bev smiled as she put it around her wrist, sitting with two others which were black. “it kinda matches the one on my ankle.” she pointed to her leg, where a red anklet was around her left ankle, and y/n smiled.

“i made one for richie too, it’s purple.” she explained and bev grinned.

“i doubt he has room for any more.”

“he’ll make room, don’t worry.” she giggled quietly, though looked up when the classroom door opened and watched as somebody walked inside.

there was a student transferring to their history class, which they had swapped in for geography, and she had been interested to see who it was all morning. y/n recognised the girl, though she had never spoken to her - she was a cheerleader, and y/n was a loser. the girl walked into the classroom and over to the teacher’s desk, and when beverly looked up she scoffed.

“for fuck sake.” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“what?” y/n frowned, looking at the girl again before back at bev. “do you not like her?”

bev blinked at y/n, furrowing her eyebrows a little. “do you not know who that is?” she asked, and y/n paused. was she supposed to?

“uhm, no. who is she?” y/n saw the look of disgust on bev’s face and wondered for a moment if she was one of the girl’s who used to bully her alongside greta keene.

“it’s ashley. ashley brooke?” bev asked, tilting her head, though the name still rang no bells and y/n just blinked in confusion. “she’s richie’s ex.”

“...oh.”

she was richie’s ex? y/n looked back over at ashley as she took a seat across the classroom and frowned. she was… beautiful. she was tall and skinny and had beautiful long hair, and thinking about it she wasn’t at all surprised richie used to like her. when they had started dating, richie had told her that he had an ex from before y/n had moved to their school, though she hadn’t minded at the time. if she knew that richie had downgraded with her then maybe she’d mind a little more. ashley was a cheerleader; she had good grades, everybody liked her, and she was so pretty. y/n was average in all of her classes, barely knew anybody other than the losers, and she was most definitely not nearly as pretty as ashley. if richie could date someone like ashley, why was he settling with her?

“y/n?” bev gently nudged her arm, and after looking away from ashley she could see that bev looked concerned. “she was a bitch, alright? they didn’t even date for three months. she just got with him because he suddenly got hot one summer.” bev scoffed, and y/n nodded, though she let her eyes drift back towards ashley and sighed. she wasn’t so sure.

-

after she had seen ashley that morning, it was hard to not miss her everywhere else she went. y/n realised that her locker was close to ashley’s, that they shared a free period, they even shared their math class together. by the time lunch rolled around she was almost miserable. her brain had been running non stop all day about it. about how richie could do so much better than her if he wanted to. she wasn’t cruel, she knew that richie wouldn’t break up with her, because he was kind. but was he miserable with her? did he want to be with someone else?

she had been so lost in thought as she walked outside towards the losers’ lunch table that she hadn’t seen the person in front of her and walked right into them. she felt nauseous when they turned around and was face to face with ashley.

y/n’s eyes widened, freezing up for a solid few seconds. “oh uh- i’m sorry i didn’t- i didn’t see-” she started stammering, though ashley just gave her a once-over before she walked away with a huff.

y/n watched her walk away for a moment, her heart thumping heavier than normal. did ashley know who she was? did she not like her because she was dating richie now instead of her? she swallowed harshly as she continued walking, feeling a little relieved when she saw the losers all sat outside. she’d feel better when she was sat with them, she always did. one time she was ill and when she met the losers at bill’s house for their weekly movie, they had all gotten together to make her some soup and she had almost cried from gratitude.

since they all couldn’t fit on one table together, they had pushed two wooden tables together to sit together at the start of the year and nobody had moved them since. as she walked over she could hear richie and eddie yelling at each other before they even saw her and had to smile. everything was normal, so she should, in theory, feel fine.

“will you stop saying that-”

“but she did! your mom asked me to-”

“eww stop! fuckin’ stop!”

richie had his head tipped back with laughter as she actually reached the table, and upon seeing the horrified expression on eddie’s face she had to giggle.

“leave him alone, rich, you’re traumatising him.”

eddie mumbled a “thank you y/n” as she sat down on richie’s other side, opposite bev, and gave the girl a light smile as she felt an arm tuck around her waist.

“anything for you, my love,” richie sighed dramatically as he pulled her closer to himself, and she heard eddie gag on his other side when a kiss was pressed to her cheek. “was your morning okay?”

y/n nodded and smiled as she gently took his hand underneath the table. “yeah, it was fine.” it wasn’t, but richie didn’t need to know that. ashley was probably never insecure like she was being.

she felt something hit her arm and looked up to see that bev had thrown a note at her, and upon opening it she frowned.

“i saw you walk into ashley. everything okay?”

y/n appreciated how intuitive bev was. she was her best friend, and she had been there for her since her first day in derry - which was longer than she had been friends with any of the other losers, including richie. she appreciated that bev could tell when something was wrong, but she just didn’t want to talk about anything to do with ashley or her insecurities, so she just nodded and scrunched the note up before letting it drop to the floor.

“hey, rich?” she watched as richie looked up and smiled softly when she met his eyes. “i have something for you,” as she spoke y/n dug around in the front pocket of her bag, before her fingers enclosed around what she wanted and she pulled out the purple bracelet that she had made for him the night before. “here.” she placed the gift into his open palm, and watched as his face lit up.

“i don’t have a purple one yet, thanks!” he grinned and immediately put it on his left wrist (there was only four on that one, whereas he had six on his right one, including the bra strap bracelet) before he moved both arms around her as he pressed a good few kisses to her head.

y/n smiled as she leaned into his side, though she spotted ashley sat with her own friends a few tables away and frowned as a sour feeling pooled in her belly. ashley probably didn’t make him friendship bracelets, she wasn’t childish. she probably bought him more meaningful things that he would get more entertainment and use out of. she probably was a better girlfriend overall, to be honest. why was richie settling with someone who could do so little for him?

-

“hey, are you okay?” y/n looked up at richie as he squeezed her hand and tilted her head slightly. every day after school he walked her back to her house, and aside from any free periods they spent together, it was one of the only times they got alone during the week. usually it was the best part of her day, but she had been dreading the walk home all afternoon. her thoughts on everything had gotten so much worse after lunch, and being around richie - as much as she loved his company - made it worse. because with her hand in his, as her arm brushed against his every time richie moved closer to her side of the pavement (because god knows richie couldn’t walk in a straight line to save his life), all she could be reminded of was how bad of a girlfriend she was in comparison to what he had in the past and what he could have if he wanted it.

“hmm?” she tilted her head and put on a smile. “yeah, i’m okay.” realistically, she should have spoken to richie about how she was feeling, but she felt like that would just be selfish. she didn’t want him to have to pity her because she had come to the realisation that she just wasn’t good enough. she just wanted it all to get better. y/n wished bev had never told her who ashley was so she could keep thinking that she was a good girlfriend, and maybe if she carried on thinking it was fine she would have no problems. but since she knew how not fine it was, it hurt. walking home with her then, as his thumb dragged across her knuckles so often when he didn’t have his head tipped back in laughter over a dumb joke he made, did he regret asking her out? in that moment did he know how much better he could have? did he want better?

she squeezed his hand back gently and tried to be reassuring, but her hand suddenly felt cold in his as nausea swirled around her stomach. y/n took a brief look down at herself, seeing hand-me-down clothes and a figure she wasn’t happy with and thought of ashley, who was always best dressed and looked like she should do modeling. if he hadn’t realised it yet, how much better he could do, then he would eventually. and then she’d lose him.

-

she didn’t turn up for lunch on tuesday. richie had pouted the whole time, ignoring stan’s suggestions that she was late or had something else to do. he knew she was in school - bev had seen her in their english class, and the redhead had said she was quiet, sure, but y/n was always quiet! it took her days after they had first met to get her to talk to him, and still sometimes she crawled back into her shell when she was feeling particularly shy or unwell. richie always found it adorable, of course, so nothing could be actually wrong with her, right? so why hadn’t she sat with them?

it couldn’t have been something he did. at lunch on monday they sat together just fine; she had given him another bracelet and he held her the whole time until class. and then they had walked together after school as they always did. she seemed a little off, sure, but nothing was actually wrong. maybe she was just on her period or something, girls got all sad when they were on their period. or in bev’s case she got angry; richie had tried to prank her once without realising and she had shouted at him so much he was almost scared of her. and then he was scared of her when she smacked the back of his head with her hardback english textbook a few minutes later. but if anything y/n got even more clingy when she had her period, so he couldn’t fathom what was going on.

he had pouted the rest of the day about it, and was genuinely relieved when he saw her waiting for him in their usual spot after school. she told him that she had some work to do at lunch and that was why she hadn’t sat with him, and he was even more relieved. he walked home with her and held her hand, happy that nothing was wrong.

until she didn’t turn up to lunch on wednesday. or thursday. or friday.

every day she gave the same excuse, that she had something to do, but he could see her pulling away more and more. on friday she didn’t even show up to walk home with him. he couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong.

“is it me? did i do something? does she hate me?” richie paced stan’s living room on saturday afternoon. they all were supposed to go to the quarry that morning, but again; y/n didn’t show.

“why don’t you ask her?” stan had asked from where he was sat on the couch and richie glared at him.

“funnily enough stan i haven’t fuckin’ seen her so i can’t fuckin’ ask her!” richie snapped, waving his hands around in wild gestures as he spoke.

stan huffed out an annoyed breath through his nose and pointed in the direction of his telephone. “call her, dumbass.”

richie’s eyes almost bugged out of his skull, as if stan had come up with the most genius plan in the world, before he scrambled over to the phone and put in her number so fast he almost broke the phone. richie hend the phone to his ear and pulled a face when some random old man picked up and quickly cancelled the call, huffing when he realised he had put in the wrong number and dialed again, slower that time, to make sure he used the right number.

“hello?” y/n answered after the fourth ring, and richie almost heaved a sigh of relief.

“y/n? it’s richie,” he told her, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably when he heard her sigh. “is everything okay? i haven’t seen you in a while.”

y/n didn’t answer for a moment, and richie could picture her biting her lip like she always did when she was thinking over what to say. “uhm.. yeah i’m fine, i’ve just got a lot going on, rich-”

“can i come over?” he interrupted, nervously twisting the phone cord between his fingers, and his stomach dropped when she sighed again.

“now’s not really a good time…” she trailed off, and hearing the negative tone laced in her words made him feel sick. “look, rich, i need to go. i’ll see you soon.”

“wait, y/n-” he started, though the end dile cut him off and he deflated, hanging the phone back up as his shoulders slumped. when he turned back towards stanley he was frowning too, and neither of them said anything until richie fell back onto the couch, visibly upset.

“what am i supposed to do?”

-

she couldn’t do it. no matter how hard she tried, y/n could never be enough for richie. she wanted to be - god, she’d give anything to be as good as ashley, or any other girl that was good enough for him. but she wasn’t.

after she had hung up the phone when richie had called she had burst into tears, not even able to hang the phone back up before she fell back onto her bed, and left it dangling by it’s cord. insecurity wasn’t new for y/n, she had alway been insecure about something; how she looked, her personality, her intelligence. but when she had started dating richie, for a while it was almost like she could look past all of that. richie made her feel beautiful and funny and good, and she finally had someone who cared about her, truly cared about her. but looking back on it, that was all a deluded fantasy stemmed by finally getting positive attention from a boy. she wasn’t enough for him - she could never be enough for him. she wasn’t as pretty as other girls. she wasn’t skinny; her thighs always touched and if she looked at herself from the side she didn’t like how much of her stuck out. her hair was never perfectly done, and she didn’ know how to get her makeup perfect. ashley had been better than her, and y/n just simply couldn’t compare.

on sunday she couldn’t stay in her room anymore. her parents were worried about her, and if they grew any more concerned she would have them questioning her too, and that was the last thing she needed, she had woken up to rain that morning, which gave her a perfect place to go; the clubhouse.

on rainy days, the losers usually just squished into bill’s basement to watch movies and eat junk food. the clubhouse was nice, but when it rained the hatch caused a leak and the ladder became too slippery to be safe; which they found out due to eddie getting a twisted ankle one time.

so y/n had gotten dressed that morning and skipped breakfast to head straight there, ignoring when her phone had rung for the fifth time since her conversation with richie the afternoon prior. she couldn’t handle talking to him. the phone was still ringing when she grabbed her coat and left her bedroom, letting the door shut behind her.

it didn’t take too long to get to the clubhouse; she knew how to get there like the back of her hand after going there for two years. the hatch was wet and the ladder was slippery but she was careful not to slip as she climbed down, and made it safely to the ground without any accidents. maybe she’d have a nice afternoon; the clubhouse was nice, and she had it to herself for once.

though that certainty popped like a bubble when she turned around and saw richie stood beside the hammock, just as frozen as she was. shit.

“y/n-”

“i should go, i forgot something.” she breathed out through the sudden nausea, though as she turned around his hand enclosed around her arm and he spun her back around to face him.

“no, no, no. i need to talk to you.”

y/n swallowed the bile that threatened to make its way up her throat. as she looked up at richie and met his gaze, her stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot that made it impossible to form any words, so she nodded instead. he looked mad- no, not mad - fuming. she had never seen him look so pissed off, not even when henry bowers had thrown a glass bottle at eddie and missed his head by a mere inch. no, this was different. his grip on her arm was almost too tight and it made her uncomfortable, and the burning fire behind his angry stare made her want to squirm underneath his gaze. she had never seen him like that.

“no bullshit this time, okay? i need to know what the fuck is going on,” richie huffed, his free hand clenched in a fist whilst his other stayed wrapped around her forearm. “you ditch me for lunch, lie about it, then continue ditching me and continue lying about it, and then yesterday you fuckin’ blow me off? what the fuck was that- i just wanted to know if you were okay!” she could only stare at him wide-eyed as he ranted, her eyes glossing over like freshly cut glass with tears. “is it me? have i done something? are you losing interest in me? is there someone else?” he huffed, and when she didn’t respond again richie groaned and stressfully ran a hand through his hair. “i need you to answer me! y/n-”

“i know who ashley is.” her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke, though it still shut him up. tears had started falling down her cheeks though she had ignored them and continued looking at richie through her slightly-blurry gaze.

“what?” richie cocked his head to the side, scoffing in disbelief. “what the fuck does ashley have to do with the fact that you’ve been ignoring me?”

“i know that you used to date her before i moved here.”

richie blinked in disbelief. “i told you i had another girlfriend before you and you said that you didn’t want to know who it was. is this what this is about? you’re mad that i never said-”

“no!” she yelled, and her expression scrunched up in frustration as he stared at her. “i’m not mad at you, richie! how could i ever- i’m not mad!” she took in a deep heaving breath that hurt her chest as she was holding in tears. “i’m not even mad, i’m just- fuck, richie, seeing ashley made me realise how worthless i am, you know? you used to date someone so perfect, and then you had to downgrade with me! ashley is so beautiful and smart and funny and i’m none of those things! i don’t know why you picked me but you could do so much better!” her voice started wobbling as her tears fell faster, but she ignored them still. “i’m not enough for you! i joined this school two years after everyone else so i’m already behind on everything, i haven’t even known you as long as other girls at school-”

“y/n-”

“-and you could have anyone if you wanted to because you’re smart and funny and attractive, and i’m just some quiet awkward girl who isn’t even pretty enough-”

“y/n, baby-” richie had stepped forwards to place his hands on her cheeks when she had started really crying, though she didn’t seem to notice as she carried on.

“-i just don’t know why you’re settling with me when you can do so much better than me-”

at some point the line between crying and yelling had become unintelligible, and at the point when her breathing had become unsteady and her expression crumpled, richie just pulled her tightly against himself, and as soon as she was pressed to his chest she started sobbing. richie had started saying something to soothe her but she couldn’t make it out through her crying, and could just feel his arms holding her tightly as she gripped onto his shirt in fists as her shoulders shook with her overflow of tears. if he minded the fact that she was staining his shirt with tears he didn’t mention it, and he just kept holding her to himself as she cried. her eyes were sore and her chest hurt, but after some time she had calmed down enough to just be sniffling, her breath catching unevenly and painfully in her chest.

“fuck, y/n.” richie mumbled, and when she felt his hand on the back of her head she whimpered quietly with the urge to sob again.

“i’m being really selfish,” she sniffled. “i know you can do better but i don’t want to lose you.”

“hey hey hey,” richie sighed and lifted a hand to her cheek to tilt her head up to look at him. when her eyes met his she could see he was crying too. “you’re not going to lose me, okay? christ, doll, i’ve been terrified that i was going to lose you all week.”

y/n swallowed thicky through the lump in her throat and pressed her face into his chest, not wanting to look at him. now she had made him cry, what a good girlfriend she was.

richie was moving them to sit somewhere though she didn’t look up until he sat down on one of the chairs and pulled her into his lap, her legs hanging off of either side of his thighs. she usually protested that she was too heavy when he wanted to sit with her like that, but she didn’t have it in her to try. she just continued to grip onto his shirt, and let him rub her back as she sniffled into his shoulder.

“i broke up with ashley because i found out she was cheating on me,” despite the sad words, richie’s voice was perfectly calm, though it didn’t stop the pang of hurt in her chest when she heard it. “i wasn’t really happy with her. she was pretty and somewhat good company but i didn’t love her. i didn’t love anybody until i knew you; i didn’t even know what love was until i loved you,” y/n continued sniffling into his shoulder even as he spoke, and after a pause she heard him sigh before he placed a hand on her cheek so she would look at him again. “y/n, you have no idea how much you mean to me. i wish you could see yourself through my eyes so you could understand how perfect you are. i love you so fuckin’ much, i don’t care that you’re not like ashley. i’m happy that you’re not like her.”

“but she’s so pretty and i’m not-”

richie huffed, silencing her with a pinch to her hip. “yes you are. you’re gorgeous, and i’m not just saying that. you really are the most beautiful person i know. you’re so kind and thoughtful, and you love me for who i am, all of the good and the bad; how could you not be enough for me?”

y/n sighed, her lip quivering as she looked down at her lap with a shrug. “i feel like you shouldn’t have to settle with me.”

richie scoffed, a sound that was so normal from him she almost smiled. “y/n, i am not settling with you. i’m in love with you. i want you and nobody else, that’s it,” he tilted her head up again and let his lips press to her forehead before he met her eyes again. “okay? you’re all i want.”

y/n’s lip quivered again and richie held her into him again, his arms a strong hold around her body. her eyes stung with more tears and she started crying into his shoulder again. “i’m so sorry, rich-”

“don’t apologise, doll, it’s okay. i just want you to know how much you mean to me. we can talk about how you’re feeling when you’re ready to, okay? but i need you to know how much i love and need you.”

y/n nodded and gripped onto him tighter, mumbling a muffled “i love you, too” into his shoulder. she could feel richie start to rock them as he held her against himself, and if anything she gripped onto him tighter. she still felt terrible; how she felt about herself wouldn’t go away with one conversation, and she sure as hell thought he could do better. but his reassurance helped massively, and it was enough to let her relax into his arms as he held her. the rain was still drizzling outside and her quiet sniffles filled the air, though she found comfort in knowing that she wasn’t going to lose richie, and that he wanted her.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 II || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} 

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : your illicit relationship with your (former) professor forces both of you to consider if the risk is worth the reward.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 9k (jeeeesus)

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (oral f and m receiving, rough sex, creampie, massive amount of dirty talk), zemo being super cocky, smoking (just zemo, not the reader), alcohol consumption (zemo and reader although the latter is moreso implied), angst (not a ton but yeah), strip chess (does this require a warning?), zemo’s friends being sorta sleazy, one mention of/implied anal, brief violence? (one punch)

part 3 coming asap!

                              You watched his eyes slowly scan the board, darting from his pieces to yours and back again.

“You’re stalling,” you accused, breaking the silence.

“I’m thinking,” he mumbled back right away, never looking away from the board as he rested his chin in his hand.

“Think faster,” you instructed with a groan, leaning back in your chair and looking out the window instead.  When you saw movement in the corner of your eye, you looked back again, but he just sighed and moved his hand back into his lap without doing anything.  “Oh my god!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it,” he grinned, finally grabbing his knight and moving it forward.  “Check.”

You looked around the board to confirm he was right, and he cleared his throat expectantly.

“I said, ‘check’,” he reminded you.  “Stand up.”

“You’re really going to make me do this?” you pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m not going to make you,” he smirked, “but you’re going to do it because your only alternative is to forfeit.”

With a sigh and a little smile of your own, you stood up and unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them quickly.  His face was irritatingly neutral as he watched you strip, only your bra and underwear left now, but his eyes gave everything away as they examined you with even more care than they had the chess board.  

“You know, this whole ‘strip chess’ idea isn’t exactly going according to plan,” you frowned, sitting back down in the chair and crossing your legs.

“What do you mean?  Of course it is,” he grinned.  “Oh, you mean, your plan… yes, I hope my suit coat is keeping your entire outfit good company over there in the pile.”

You scoffed defensively.  “If you wanted to get me naked, you could’ve just asked.”

“I know, darling.  This was just to get you to slow down for once.”

You coughed a little, shocked by his brutal honesty.  “Damn, shots fired,” you mumbled to yourself, and he laughed.  

“Now, it’s your turn to see if you can get this tie off,” he smirked.  “And do hurry it up, so I can show you what happens when I get a checkmate.”

His apartment was, unshockingly, so much nicer than your dorm; so it wasn’t so odd that you spent most nights here each week.  Well, perhaps it was a little odd since you had practically moved in and you’d only been seeing him for a few months… but you were happy, and he was happy, and you were trying desperately not to overthink it.

Your schedule was carefully crafted so as not to include any Friday classes, but obviously as a professor his itinerary was a much more traditional 8-to-5 no matter the day of the week.  As a result, it was typical for you to lay around his place through most of the day, working on your laptop or occasionally mooching off of his HBO Max account.

You were doing just that when you heard the key in the front door, and you scrambled to turn the TV off so he wouldn’t think you were being lazy… but when he entered, you were still laying on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, so you didn’t exactly look productive either.

“Hey,” you greeted, sitting up and resting your arms on the back of the couch as he took his bag off his shoulder and hung up his jacket.

“Hey,” he mumbled in return, sounding a bit distracted and not even looking back at you.  You furrowed your brow as he sat down on the couch beside you, letting out a heavy breath and staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, pouting as you moved closer to straddle his lap and run your hands over his chest through his button-up.

“Well, the thing is,” he sighed, taking off his glasses with one hand to rub his eyes with the other, “tomorrow is my birthday.”

“Wh— that’s a good thing!” you scoffed.  “Let’s do something!”

“My fortieth birthday,” he clarified.  “Tomorrow, I will officially be twice your age.”

You sighed a bit.  “That really bothers you, doesn’t it…”

“Does it not bother you?  It should,” he snapped, deflating you instantly, and his tone softened.  “I’m sorry.  That was harsh… I just feel guilty, sometimes.  I wouldn’t want to take advantage—”

“I’m a grown adult, Helmut, I know I’m younger than you but I’m not a child and I can make my own choices.”

He nodded.  “You’re right.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, chewing his lip slightly as he gathered his thoughts.  “I would just hate to see you regret this.  And I think, when you’re older, you will.”

“Let me worry about that,” you frowned.  “The future can be dealt with later, we should enjoy the present while we can.”

He laughed softly.  “I think I have an idea of what you consider ‘enjoying the present’...”

You smiled as you leaned in closer, holding his face to press your lips against his.  It was pretty innocent at first, until his hands began to rest at your waist and you sighed slightly, feeling your hips shift above him.  He grinned, teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip.

“What do you know?  I was right,” he whispered.  “You’re turned on already.”

It made your cheeks burn when he called you out like that, like he was mocking you for how easily he could make you desperate, and you looked away in embarrassment.  “I can’t help it!” you defended in a pout.

“I know,” he cooed, kissing your cheek and neck softly.  “I think it’s sweet, really.”

That made your cheeks burn even more, and you looked back at him again to find his brown eyes sparkling.  “Really?”

“Really.”

You trailed your fingers over his cheeks, scratching his beard a little bit which made him scrunch up his nose.  “Well, I think you’re sweet,” you giggled.  “And you know something else?”

He raised an eyebrow and you leaned in to speak closer to his ear.

“I think it’s sexy that you’re twice my age,” you whispered.  “Well, that tomorrow you’ll be twice my age.”

“Yeah?” he pressed, fingers just barely grazing over your skin as they trailed down your legs.

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving your hands to his chest where you started to slowly unbutton his shirt as he sighed.

“That explains why you can’t seem to keep your hands off of me,” he chuckled, looking down to watch your fingers brush over the patch of hair on his chest and toy briefly with the necklace he wore.  

“Well, that’s more just because I know how good you can fuck me, and I’ll never be satisfied by anything else,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Darling, I don’t think you’re even satisfied by me… I already made you come this morning, don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” you pouted, “that was your fingers and it was right before you had to leave and I was still half-asleep…”

“Whatever it is that you want, draga, just say it,” he ordered in a whisper, holding the back of your neck and pulling you closer so you had to look back at him.

It was a lot harder to say with him staring right at you, but you swallowed and did your best.  “Need you to fuck me.  Wanna feel you inside me, please.”

His only answer was a quick nod before he kissed you, rough and dominating, letting you cling onto him while he stood up and carried you to the bedroom, falling with you onto the mattress.

He made a big show of kissing his way down your body, tearing your clothes out of the way on his path, eventually leaving you in only your panties which he examined with a grin as he held your legs open.

A shiver ran up your spine when he caught the lace in his teeth and used only a playful bite to pull them down your legs.  

Once the panties were off your ankles and he had tossed them aside with a flick of his head, he held your thighs as he dove right in, lapping at you hungrily while you moaned and your back arched.

He purred against you when your fingers wove into his hair and tugged slightly, but you honestly didn’t even mean to do it: you just needed to hold onto something to keep yourself from falling back into oblivion, and it seemed like a more attractive option than the bedsheets.

His lips attaching onto you and sucking your clit hard was already overwhelming in its own rite, but then two thick fingers began to push into you and it was impossible not to cry out, your bottom lip falling from where it had been caught between your teeth.

“Fuck!” you yelped, hips shaking and trying to rock up against his face as he curled the tips of his fingers against your spot right away.

“Close already, draga?” he cooed, words muffled since he didn’t fully pull his mouth away from your body before he spoke.  “I’ve only just started.”

You could only nod and feel your face heat up even more; at this point you had no right to be embarrassed by how sensitive you were when he’d already proven to you over and over that he could bring you to the edge in minutes.  But still, apparently some little shred of shame was still left in you, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was determined to train it out of you.

“If you’re close then now would be the time to start begging,” he reminded you as he moved his fingers faster and teased your clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please, Helmut," you sobbed as you writhed uncontrollably, "I'm so close— fuck me, please, I want your cock."

"So you don't want to come on my fingers, then?  You don't want me to make you come with my mouth?"

"No, I want you to fuck me, please… you know I need to come around you."

Not one to let you down when you pleaded like that, he pulled his fingers out and suddenly flipped you onto your hands and knees, chuckling when you gasped.

“This is how you want it, isn’t it?” he presumed as you heard him finishing the undressing process behind you until you finally felt the head of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

“Yes,” you breathed, “just fuck me, please—”

You cut yourself off with a high-pitched noise when he shoved into you, this angle giving you no relief from how deep he was filling you.  One of his hands was beside yours, keeping him balanced upright above you, and you watched it tighten into a fist while the other slid up to hold your neck in a way that was simultaneously intimidating and soothing.

When he started to move, each stroke rubbed against your swollen spot and you struggled not to fall apart right there and then.

“So perfect,” he breathed right against your ear, almost like he was saying it to himself more than you, “you feel so fucking perfect, draga.”

Of course that would make your back arch even more, pushing him deeper into you in search of not only more friction within you but more of his praise whispered to you.

Soon it was you pushing back against him more than him fucking into you, and you felt his proud smile press against the curve of your neck.  “You need it that badly, darling?”

“Need you,” you whined back, not really capable of a full sentence at this point. 

“I know,” he whispered, soothing you with kisses all over your cheek and neck and shoulder.  “I know, poor thing, you just need to come, yes?”

Your mouth fell slack as you nodded, rocking back into him faster and more desperately than ever.

“You need me to make you come?”

“Yes, fuck, please!” you cried, hoping he wouldn’t get irritated with you becoming so demanding, but thankfully he obliged and held your body tight as he really fucked you then, hard and fast and completely unforgiving— exactly how you needed it.

Every part of your body seemed to tense up in time with each other: your toes curled, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you in fists, your walls fluttered and tightened around him.  

When you opened your mouth to speak, you genuinely didn’t know if you should expect a scream or a whisper.  What came out was somewhere in the middle, slightly choked and completely fucked-out.  “Please, don’t stop…”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to, draga,” he groaned, his fingers rubbing your clit roughly as he fucked you even harder, slamming into the deepest parts of you until you were choking on your own sobs.

"I— hng, Helmut, I'm—" you tried to warn him, but you couldn't even put a few words together.

"I know, darling," he cooed, "shh, just come, go ahead and come for me."

He sucked hard on your pulse as your legs quivered and your body gave out; if it weren’t for him holding you tight against him, you would’ve fallen on your face onto the bed (and you may not have even noticed if you did, since you were suddenly going numb and tingly everywhere).

Just past the ringing in your ears you could hear him muttering curses against your skin, in a few languages you didn’t speak, before switching back to English to praise you in a growl.  “I love feeling you come around me, draga, keep going— you’re squeezing me so tight that I can barely keep it together.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks from the force of it, and his hand reached up to wipe them away— a gesture much too tender considering the way he was pounding into you like he was out for revenge.

"Fuck, I'm close, so close," he breathed, grunting with every thrust into you.

"Come in me, I want it so bad, I need it…"

His teeth sunk into your neck, his lips sealing and sucking on the delicate skin, as he let out a muffled moan and began to fill you.  The warmth of it was always indescribable, but perfect; a heavy exhale of relief sunk from your chest out your lips.

You were able to stay like that for a long moment before he let you go and you inevitably fell limply onto the bed, just barely beginning to catch your breath and come back down to reality.

“Fuck, that’ll leave a mark,” you groaned as you rubbed where he’d bitten you, but you were smiling, too.

You watched him get up and stretch briefly; you were pretty impressed he was still energetic enough to do anything but collapse onto the bed beside you, though you certainly didn’t mind the view as he walked to the window and acquired a cigarette and his lighter.

“Isn’t smoking after sex a little stereotypical?” you chuckled softly.

He smirked back at you as he placed the end between his lips.  “It’s the only time I smoke, so I’m going to blame you for how many packs I’ve been going through,” he countered, words slightly muffled from holding the cigarette.  He struck his lighter and carefully lit the end, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke out through his nose.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t have such an… appetite, before you,” you admitted.

“You’d never had anything worth craving before,” he shrugged; how dare he be so casually cocky like that?  How dare he be so accurate?

Deciding you definitely needed a shower (though you would’ve loved to lay there catatonic for a while longer), you managed to sit up and get off the bed.  The only problem was that you severely overestimated the awakeness of your legs, and when you tried to stand on them, they buckled right away.

He dashed across the room to catch you, concerned at first but then smirking around his cigarette as he looked down at you in his arms.  "Are you alright, darling?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you nodded breathlessly, balancing on his arms as you found your footing.  "Thanks."

“You don’t need my help in the shower?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed, letting go of his hands.  “We both know your ‘help’ isn’t going to get me clean.”

“You’ve got me there,” he admitted, raising his hands in relent as he returned to the window while you finished your delicate trek to the bathroom and reached into the shower to turn on the stream of hot water.

Though the shower thankfully did get the sweat off of you and (most of) the come out of you, it could never wash away the feeling of his touch, the little bruises in the shape of his lips or fingertips, and thank god that it couldn’t— your heart might break if they ever faded.

Of course, that made you start wondering which made you start overthinking (a common shower pastime for you) and suddenly a pang of fearful guilt started to throb in your gut as you wondered if your feelings were becoming too strong.  

You pushed the thought away and finished up your shower, deciding now was not the time to worry where this affair was going.  Didn’t you deserve to do something fun and crazy and a little bit dangerous for once?  At least you weren’t in his class anymore so what you were doing was less ‘wrong’ and more just ‘probably a bad idea.’

But this bad idea had been going on for a few months now and sometimes it felt like you were barreling towards an inevitable breaking point.  Could any relationship that began in the way yours had find longevity?  Is that even what you wanted?

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really manage to successfully stop worrying about it, and you sighed absent-mindedly as you dried off with a borrowed towel.  If anything could soothe your racing mind, it was coming back to the bedroom to find Helmut in bed, his cigarette finished and replaced with a book and his reading glasses.

The way he smiled when he saw you was infectious, and he extended his arm out in invitation for you to join him and, well, that offer was irresistible.

You beamed as you jumped onto the mattress, which had settled from its bouncing by the time you found a comfortable spot on his shoulder and lifted your leg to drape over his.  

Your head found a place on his chest while your fingers traced over it, trailing down at one point to his stomach where you delicately traced over the scars there— the ones you’d been too afraid to ask about before now.

“What happened?” you asked softly.  “The scars…”

“A dog mauled me when I was little,” he remembered flatly as he turned a page in his book.  

“Oh no!”

“Not as bad as it sounds, I can’t even remember it now,” he shrugged.

“Anything interesting?” you asked, motioning to the book and looking up at his profile as he returned to his thoughtful reading.

“Something horrifically boring,” he answered flatly, looking over at the bedside table when his phone vibrated on top of it.  Setting the book down and grabbing the phone instead, he squinted as he looked at the bright screen.

“What is it?” you asked after a brief struggle not to be nosy.

"Another professor in the department is offering to take me out for drinks, for my birthday," he explained as he examined the message.

"That's sweet of him," you smiled.  "You should go!"

"Well, actually it's a 'her,'" he corrected.

Oh no, there it was, stirring in your stomach: jealousy, for no good reason, with no right to start stirring in your chest.  Of course in your mind, this female professor was sexy and sophisticated in a way you couldn't be, someone who could keep up with his discussions about history and politics that you barely understood, someone who could do all those things you couldn’t do. 

Including, you know, going to bars… like the one she was inviting him to now, on the night of his birthday.

“Well that’s… nice,” you mumbled.  “Is it just you and her, or…?”

He paused as he processed the question, before suddenly smirking and setting his phone down to stare back at you.  “Do you think she’s asking me on a date?”

You couldn’t parse at first if he was asking you because he thought you were being ridiculous for thinking it, or because he genuinely wanted your perspective— as if he would be happy if she was.  It made a lump form in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow down.  “I… I don’t know, maybe?” you shrugged.  “How old is she?” you, morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

“I don’t know, 30-something?  Like I will be for the next—” he paused to puff his cheeks with a sigh and glance at his watch— “5 hours or so.”

You tried to hide your disappointment that he didn’t give a number like 60 or more.  “I don’t think you’re allowed to say 30 ‘something’ when the ‘something’ is 9,” you snorted.

“Okay, she’s in her late 30s then,” he decided.

“Well, that’s…” you trailed off. 

“What?” he pressed.

“I guess it’s probably a date, then,” you decided.

“It’s definitely not,” he shook his head.

“Does she know that?” you shot back, regretting it once you said it.

“Seriously?” he laughed.  “Do you think something is going to… happen between her and I, at this bar?”

“Well, maybe not at the bar, she’ll probably drive you to her place in her BMW or whatever,” you scoffed.

“Draga, she’s a history professor, she can’t afford a BMW,” he smirked, kissing your forehead.  

“Okay, but she has a car, and an apartment, and a job— you know, maybe she’s more ‘in your league’,” you proposed.

He laughed again.  “Yes, maybe she is.  And maybe you’re out of my league.  So I think we’ve established that it would be entirely uneconomic for me to be with her instead of you.”

You noticed the way he said ‘being with’ and not ‘date’ in reference to this.  Because you two weren’t, technically, dating, even if he did take you on what could be considered dates by most of the population.  “People do uneconomic things all the time,” you mumbled back, and he let out a little sigh as he looked down at you.

“Darling, I am entirely disinterested in pursuing another woman… as well as physically incapable.  I can barely keep up with you, how do you expect me to entertain somebody else?”

You swallowed, feeling a bit guilty for bringing it up at all.  “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business,” you sighed, “I didn’t mean to ask you for anything, you can make your own decisions and I know we said this wasn’t—”

“Shh,” he interrupted to hug you tighter, “you’re overthinking again.  I’m not going to sleep with someone else—”

“But I’m saying you could, if you wanted to, I’d just want you to tell me since we aren’t using condoms and we would probably just call it off—”

“Baby,” he smiled, making you look up at him as he reached down to hold your face in his hand, “I just want you.”

You choked on nothing in particular, feeling so vulnerable so suddenly.  “O-okay…”

He held your head close to his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, while you were still reeling from that statement; you didn’t know exactly what it meant— it certainly implied exclusivity, but not necessarily any romantic contexts, right?  To ‘want’ someone can mean a lot of things… sexual, mainly, which is what you assumed he was referring to.

And you were definitely not disappointed if he only wanted you in only that way, but you couldn’t swallow down the longing stirring inside you, the unforgettable knowledge that you wanted him in every way that could be meant.  Best of all, you wanted him all to yourself, but you were too self-conscious to bring up the exclusivity talk and you were too happy now to risk messing it all up with pesky emotions.  It was just amazing sex, between two people who thankfully managed to get along well outside the bedroom as well, and there was absolutely wrong with that.

If nothing else, you knew a lot more about history than you did a few months ago, so if it all ended tomorrow, at least you would have some fun facts about Sokovia to show for it.

When your friend Kacey told you there was a house party this weekend, you were originally going to say no… but the house in question was actually just down the block from Helmut’s apartment, so you knew if you hated it you could leave easily.  Maybe getting out would do you some good, and it was the same night that Helmut was going out with his friends for his birthday so the timing was convenient.  He encouraged you not to wait for him alone and bored all night; this seemed like the perfect way to avoid that.

And maybe if you were getting dressed up all sexy to go out to a party at the same time he was supposed to leave for the bar, you could convince him to ditch them and spend his birthday fucking you senseless.

When he caught a glimpse of you while he walked past the bathroom, he stopped suddenly and you grinned as you turned to face him.  "Whaddya think?" you asked proudly, letting him get an eyeful of your outfit.

“You look…” he trailed off, scanning the skin-tight dress with wide eyes.  “Do you always dress this way for parties?”

You shrugged.  “Most of the time, yeah.”

“Remind me to take you out more,” he nodded.  “Or never let you go out without me again.”

“You don’t think it’s too revealing, do you?” you teased, stepping closer.

“Oh no, don’t play that game with me,” he laughed.  “Don’t try to make me jealous just so I’ll get rough with you.”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  

“Does that tactic usually work on whatever boys you were seeing before me?” he smirked, and something about the way he called them boys made you feel all tingly and suddenly you were not the one in control anymore.  You nodded shyly and he stepped up to you, pulling you into a soft kiss.  You tried to deepen it but he moved back too soon, leaving you wanting more like he could do so effortlessly.  “I’ll see you tonight, have fun at your party.”

He left you with one more kiss, to your forehead this time, and you were almost more impressed than irritated at how he managed to make sure you’d be thinking only of him all night long.

Not too much later after he’d driven off, you left on foot for the party— though you definitely considered cancelling last minute and just moping around his apartment, staring forlornly out the window wondering when your husband former professor turned not-exactly boyfriend would return from the war bar.

But you had a point to prove to yourself, as well as Helmut and Kacey, and so you finished primping and found the walk rather pleasant in terms of scenery (if irritating in terms of fashion).

As far as house parties go, it wasn't quite a rager but not exactly a casual hangout either; you could hear the music from across the block, though faintly, as bass reverberated through the ground and into your platforms while your friend waved you down from the porch, calling your name.

She met you at the sidewalk just in front of the house, pulling you into a tight hug; you had been worried at first that you were overdressed (or, in a certain sense, underdressed), but her outfit was significantly more revealing than yours; a two-piece with her stomach and belly button piercing exposed.  

“You look hot,” Kacey beamed when she pulled back from the hug.

“You think so?  I’m a bit out of practice,” you admitted.

“Glad you could dust off the heels and join us,” she winked.

“Us?”

She glanced back towards the house.  “Yeah, Pia’s here— somewhere…”

Another junior in your major; as the most social girls in the computer science undergraduate stratosphere, the three of you were sort of forced to be friends, but thankfully it wasn’t for naught and you got along well.  Sometimes Kacey could be a bit… effervescent for your taste, in the sense that she was one of those bubbly outgoing types and had more energy than you knew what to do with.  Pia was more reserved but acquiescent, which meant she ended up pulled along on whatever adventures Kacey got herself into you.  And then there was you, who had been blowing them off every weekend with a list of increasingly-absurd excuses: sick dog, sick cousin, sick self (both migraines and menstrual cramps), heavy homework load— you know, the usual suspects— all in the name of hanging out with Helmut.

You considered yourself lucky that they still wanted to hang out with you, after you’d been AWOL this long, and you feared that they would understandably want an explanation.

Following Kacey inside the house, you tried not to wince at the volume of the music— a live band, it turns out, and not a very good one— and grabbed a stray drink from a table on your way to wherever you were being guided.

Pia was sitting on the arm of a couch, listening to a very stoned young man talk about the meaning of life and the universe, but she smiled when she saw you and Kacey, getting up to greet you.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in forever!” she frowned playfully, hugging you quickly.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled.  

“We should catch up!  How have you been?” she pressed, tilting her head.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna miss this TED talk?” you snorted, glancing over at the guy who had changed topics slightly and seemed to have confused string beans with string theory.

“I’ve heard better philosophy from the back of cereal boxes,” she laughed, but right as she said it the band finished their song and everyone glanced in your direction, including the heartbroken hippy himself.  “Uh, sorry,” she winced, and Kacey laughed as she guided the three of you away.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks, wait here,” Kacey decided once she found a new corner to lounge in, but Pia abandoned you soon afterward in search of a bathroom, leaving you to do what you did best at parties: stand around and avoid everyone’s attention.

You were surprised to hear your name from behind you, and when you whipped your head around you saw a tall guy with a wide smile looking down at you.

“Professor Zemo, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Wh— what about him?” you stammered out.

“We had his class together,” he explained.  “I sat behind you.”

“Oh!” you smiled, relieved.  “Right, um, yeah…”

“Trey,” he finished for you.

“Trey!” you repeated, nodding.  “I knew that… hi, Trey, good to see you.”

“How’s life been treating you since you set the curve in that class?” he grinned.

“I don’t think he even graded on a curve,” you mumbled.  “But, um, good.  Just… livin’ it up,” you decided, cringing internally at your own wording.

“Yeah?  I haven’t seen you in any other history classes,” he noticed.

“Oh, I’m not a history major,” you explained quickly.  “Computer science.”

He chuckled incredulously, wrinkling his eyebrows.  “What were you doing in a history seminar?”

Fucking the professor.  “Elective,” you shrugged.  

“So you’re just a hobby history buff then?” he presumed.

“No, I actually kinda hate history, I prefer to live in the present,” you decided, “but, y’know, underwater basket-weaving didn’t have any seats left…”

He snorted out a laugh, a little too hard for the quality of the joke, and you realized this was probably flirting.  You’d never really seen it up this close, so you couldn’t be sure… and considering how he looked in his jeans with the shirt half-unbuttoned, you weren’t exactly mad about it…

But it made you feel sort of sick to your stomach.  It made you feel guilty, on behalf of Helmut but even moreso for Trey who was totally sweet and smart and deserved to be spending this energy on somebody who could appreciate it.

“Want another drink?  Looks like yours is almost empty,” he motioned to your red plastic cup.  

“Oh, um, I would but… I think my friends are coming over here,” you dismissed, hoping he would take the hint without taking it too hard.  He seemed to understand, giving you a nod and a wave before he disappeared into the crowd right as Pia grabbed your arm.

“Who was that?” she asked right away, giving you a look that you chose to ignore.

“Trey, he sat behind me in my history class last semester.”

“He’s cute,” Pia winked, leaning against the wall beside you.  “And definitely into you.”

“Well, that’s… good for him, I suppose,” you stammered.

“Are you gonna go for it?  Get his number?” she pressed.

“Uh, probably not,” you decided, “I’m gonna get another drink—”

Before you could walk away, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.  “Hey, what’s the deal?  You seem kinda out of it.”

“Oh, well, I just— I guess I’m not as much into the party scene as I used to be.”

“I’m using my psychology major mind-reading powers,” she warned, waving her fingers at you like she was casting some mystical spell while you leaned back and squinted.

“Um, that’s definitely not how that works—”

“You’re acting weird becaaauuuusee… you’re totally hung up on somebody else and feel guilty flirting with guys here even though you know you shouldn’t,” she announced, crossing her arms proudly when your dumbfounded expression gave away her accuracy.

“How did you—?”

“Lucky guess.  So who is it?!” she grinned.

“Uh—”

Kacey, summoned by the smell of gossip, seemed to appear from thin air at your other side.  “Who is who?” she smirked.

You glanced around at the crowded room of students and decided this was definitely not the place to talk about such an illicit affair, taking them by the hand and dragging them into a more private room of the house.  Finding a seat on a chair as the girls gathered around you (oddly reminiscent of a childhood storytime, except this story was going to be a lot more mature than those), you prepared to answer as many of their questions as you could.

As a European, Zemo was quite well-practiced at going out to bars with friends, but in America it was a very different experience.  It took him twice the alcohol to get half as drunk as his colleagues, meaning by the time he was feeling a decent buzz, everyone else had foolishly tried to keep up and ended up totally sloshed.

The person who had initially suggested this event (as well as the one you had foolishly felt some sort of jealousy for), Dr. Josten, had actually respected her own limits and left first while she was still good to drive, meaning Zemo was left only with men who couldn’t hold their liquor or their tongues.

Case in point, a bunch of his fellow professors were now trying to convince him to go up to the bar and flirt with a woman in a red dress.

“No, no way,” Zemo shook his head, “I’m not doing that.”

“You could totally take her home, just tell her it’s your birthday!” Professor Bram, from the English department, suggested with an elbow digging a bit too hard into Zemo’s side.

“Does that normally work?” he asked bewilderedly.

"I mean, not for me… but it could work for you!  Ladies love an accent."

“You’ve been teaching stateside for over a year now, Zemo, it’s time for you to experience American women,” one of them laughed.

“Who says I haven’t?” he mumbled to himself before another sip of his vodka, but unfortunately some of the others heard him as well and he got a playful punch to the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!  Was it just a hook-up or what?”

“No, I… well, I’m seeing someone, I suppose is the way to put it,” he clarified.

“How long?” Kacey asked you first, right away, as she leaned in excitedly.

“Um, a few months now,” you realized.

“No, I mean how long,” she smirked, gesturing with her hands to indicate length, and you snorted.

“Jesus, I’m not telling you that!”

“Buzzkill,” she rolled her eyes.

“Plenty long enough, that’s all I’ll say,” you laughed.

“How’d you meet her?” Professor Carpenter (another history department veteran) asked.  “I mean, you’re never anywhere but work… is it someone you work with?”

“In a sense…” Zemo trailed off.

“So, is he in one of your classes?” Pia wondered aloud.

“Um, he was, last semester,” you agreed.  It wasn’t false, by any means, but definitely not the entire truth, either.

"So, another lecturer,” Professor Chen (Zemo was about 80% sure he was in the political science department) nodded thoughtfully.  

“Gotta be somebody from the Women’s Studies department,” Bram smirked proudly, despite it not being a statement to be proud of at all.

“Or is it that woman here on the visiting scholar program, the temporary lecturer in neurology?” Carpenter jumped in.

“No, he said she was American, c’mon, keep up,” Bram frowned as he slapped Carpenter on the padded shoulder.

“Delta or Sigma?” Kacey squinted, like it was an interrogation.

“Not a frat guy, some of us have standards Kace,” you scoffed.

“Hey!” Pia gasped, offended on Kacey’s behalf.

“Nah, she’s right,” Kacey soothed.

“She’s not a lecturer, okay?” Zemo hissed, tired of having basically every department of the university listed to him (including some he didn’t realize existed).  “She’s not faculty.”

“...staff?” Chen posited.

“What, you mean like the janitor?  No, not staff,” Zemo rolled his eyes.  “I shouldn’t have said anything.  It’s none of your business.”

“It doesn’t matter!  What’s with the secrecy?”

“I haven’t told anyone about it yet, and I don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol to start now,” he frowned.

“Which of your classes was he in, then?” Pia asked, shifting her line of questioning (and unfortunately looking in the right direction).

“Um, that history thing I took last semester,” you answered.

“That guy from before was in your history class!  Should we just ask him who it is?” Pia grinned mischievously.

You cursed yourself for giving away too much.

“I’ll go find him and see if he’s going to give us more to work with you than you,” Kacey decided, already standing up to walk out of the room.

“No, wait!” you yelped, pulling her back; you didn’t want to tell them anymore, but you couldn’t afford if someone like Trey found out.  Telling Kacey and Pia wasn’t ideal, but at least they could be trusted with a secret.  “I’ll tell you, okay?  Fuck, I don’t even know how to say this…”

Chen tossed up his hands in defeat.  “Alright, the only reason you could be so weird about this is if it’s somebody totally forbidden—”

Zemo’s chest tightened as he worried they would figure it out.

“Like, I don’t know, an adjunct or something.”

“An adjunct?  Are you out of your mind?” Zemo spat.

“Hey, no judgment in brainstorming,” Carpenter defended.

“You think I would be this protective about it if it was an adjunct?” Zemo continued.

“Listen, we’re not gonna think less of you, whatever it is— and we’re not gonna tattle on you,” Bram assured.  “Just get it off your chest while the liquor’s flowing, half of us aren’t even gonna remember it tomorrow anyways.”

“I’m dating a professor,” you blurted out.

“She’s a student,” he finally interjected, the entire table suddenly going dead silent.

“...a grad student?” one of them pressed, making Zemo swallow uncomfortably.

“Um, no… she’s actually… twenty,” he admitted.

“Holy shit,” Pia gasped.  “You actually did it…”

“We bow to your hoe powers,” Kacey spoke reverently, clasping her hands as if in prayer.  “We’ve all dreamed of bagging a hot professor and now you made it a reality.  Please, O Queen, teach us in your ways.”

“It’s not like that,” you defended.

“Is she at least getting a better grade out of you for it?” Carpenter joked.

“No, it’s not like that,” he dismissed, “she passed my class with flying colors quite some time ago.”

“Okay, but was that before or after you slept with her?”

“It was irrelevant to the fact that I slept with her.”

“So, after,” Chen assumed with a smirk.

“Yes, after,” Zemo finally admitted, “but she’s not my student anymore.”

“Is she your girlfriend then?”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek.  “We… haven’t really had that conversation yet.  I keep meaning to, but then… one thing always seems to lead to another…”

“Oh really?” Pia grinned.  “So what’s he like?”

“Sensitive…” you mumbled right away, “patient, weirdly funny though I don’t think he realizes it.”

“I know I’m going to sound like every creep who ever preyed on young women, but she’s very mature for her age,” Zemo explained.  “Incredibly thoughtful.  Wise beyond her years.”

“No, no,” Johnston shook his head, “what’s she like.”

"It's nothing like how it is with guys our age,” you gushed, clutching your blanket tighter to your chest.  “He's so attentive, and sensual, and he can go for hours," you explained as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the memories playing on repeat in your mind.

"You must understand that she's nothing like women our age, at least not any that I've met," he nodded as his friends set down their drinks to lean in close.  He was sure this was more attention than he'd ever gotten for one of his lectures.  "She's… insatiable.  She wants to go again and again and I'm just trying to keep her from getting injured or something, poor thing."

"So she likes it rough?" one of them presumed with a toothy grin.

"She's so inexperienced she doesn't really know what she likes yet.  She's learning with me.  So we try everything."

"Everything?" one of the girls repeated as she widened her eyes.

Your face warmed up as you cleared your throat.  "I mean… yeah…"

"So, anal?"

You choked on nothing, which said more than any answer could.

"I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” he decided, shaking his head.

“Come on, you don’t have to tell us everything, just give us something to work with here,” Carpenter pleaded.  

“I don’t want to know what you mean by work with,” Zemo shuddered.

“At least tell us how you got her to sleep with you,” Chen compromised.

“Or let us do a guest lecture in your class so we can try to find our own undersexed sorority girls,” Bram added.

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say it’s not like that?” you frowned.  “I’m not turning this into some fucked up teacher-student dating service.”

“You keep saying what it isn’t like but you won’t tell us what it is,” Kacey noted.  “I mean, is it serious?”

“All I can say for sure is that I feel pretty serious about it,” Zemo tried to explain.  

“...are you in love with her?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly deciding now was the perfect time to finish his drink.

“Love?” you repeated, voice cracking.  “I don’t… know about that,” you stammered.

But the really upsetting thing was that you did know, and you hadn’t let yourself think about it until now.  It hadn’t been long enough to justify feelings like that, and the last thing you wanted to be was the naïve girl who caught feelings when all the guy was looking for was sex.

“It’s not just sex,” he announced.  “It’s something really real.   I didn’t know that I could—”

He stopped himself.

“I haven’t felt this way since—” he began, but stopped again.  “I don’t know.  Just, be careful how you talk about her.”

“Oh, you’re really whipped,” Bram chuckled.

“She’s incredible; you’d understand if you met her.”

“Then let us meet her!”

For a moment, he actually considered it; he wasn’t sure if you thought that you were at the ‘meeting friends’ stage, and considering the cultural difference it was going to be a unique one for sure.  Would you ask him to hang out with your friends?  He didn’t even know what that would look like.

“She seems like someone worth getting to know,” Bram agreed, and Zemo grimaced at the predatory look in his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he sneered, and Chen patted him on the back.

“Good move.  I’d be keeping her to myself, too… otherwise she might end up upgrading to a tenured professor like myself,” he beamed.

“Better watch out before Chen here steals your girl, Zemo,” Carpenter warned.

“She can’t be stolen,” Zemo assured.

“Yeah, you say that now…” Bram trailed off.

“Care to finish that sentence?” Zemo snarled.

“Well, think of it this way.  Most students wouldn’t fuck their professor,” Bram explained.  “But those that would, usually wouldn’t only fuck one.”

He didn’t punch him in the face because it was crude.  Sure, that was a factor, but it wasn’t the real reason.  He punched him in the face because it sounded like it actually made sense.

He punched him in the face because he couldn’t understand why it made him so angry; so what if he was just one of your exploits?  What difference did it make?  After all, you’d just said the night before that he was free to pursue others, and he couldn’t quite appreciate yet why that didn’t feel like freedom at all.

From a certain point of view, he knew he should just appreciate that you were with him at all, irrelevant to whoever else you might be with or would potentially be with in the future.  But from another, and much more salient, point of view, he wanted you all to himself.  And he hated that.

Like all good anger, his anger in that moment was born of fear, and he’d never been so afraid that he was just the lucky target of your promiscuous phase.  As selfish as it was, he wanted to think of himself as more than that.

And now that he was getting thrown out of a bar on his own birthday, contemplating the paperwork he would have to fill out tomorrow after punching a coworker tonight, he’d never thought of himself as less.

Much to your delight, he returned relatively early for a guy coming back from a bar on his birthday— 11:57 p.m., specifically— but it made sense for him being a responsible professor and all.

Well, mostly responsible.  After all, he still had his former student waiting for him when he got back, perched on the couch expectantly.  As fun as the third degree had been with Kacey and Pia, you wanted to be here when he got back— and now that they finally understood the real reason you were leaving early, they were more than supportive (perhaps a little too supportive, with their rather graphic suggestions and… hand gestures).

You didn’t stay on his couch for long, though; you got up and met him at the door as he slipped off his coat and hung it up nearby.

“How was your night out?” you asked softly, reaching up to rub his chest through his shirt.

“Um, it was good,” he nodded, “I missed you though.”

“I missed you, too,” you sighed.  “I was here all by myself thinking about the present I want to give you.”

“I told you not to get anything for me,” he remembered, gasping slightly when you pushed him back against the door.

“Just be gracious and accept your gift, okay?” you whispered, starting to kneel down and open his belt.

“O-oh,” he breathed.

You palmed his cock through his trousers, biting your lip as you felt it swelling already.  “I didn’t wrap this gift… and I forgot to get you a card to go with it.”

“Somehow I think I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you,” he chuckled, though his smile dropped when you pulled his cock out and stroked it slowly.  You had meant to tease him a bit but you found yourself sucking on the head already, too desperate for even your own plans; not that he had any issue with it, you could hear his breathing quicken as you bobbed your head slowly and stroked what your lips couldn’t reach.

He was still getting harder and the feeling of it on your tongue was so hot it was almost distracting, it made you want to reach down under your dress but you knew you were going to need your full attention on him if you were going to do this properly.

Closing your eyes, you kept taking him deeper and deeper until your lips met the base of his cock while his tip was lodged deep down your throat.

“Fffuck,” he hissed, “where did you learn how to do that?”

You pulled back and took a breath, stroking his cock as you responded.  “I’ve been practicing, all for you.”

It made his cock flex in your hand to imagine you gagging on your fingers or a toy in hopes of learning how to deepthroat him, let alone to know that it worked.

You took him in your mouth again, swirling your tongue around his slit until he reached down to grab your hair— not hard enough to guide your movements, he was still letting you set your own pace, but hard enough to tug at the roots and make you moan around him.  Slowly, you sunk down again, humming and swallowing around him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re too fucking perfect,” he sighed, watching closely as you pulled off of him even slower, running your lips and tongue over every part of him.  “You— fuck, you really don’t need to do this.”

“I want to,” you breathed, darting your tongue out to give a wide lick to his head.  “I’m already so wet just from this, Helmut… I want you to fuck my face.”

“Shit,” he cursed, gripping your hair tighter.  “You’re sure?”

You smiled and nodded.

“Then open your mouth."

Never one to turn down an instruction like that, you let your mouth fall slack and hummed a bit as he pushed his cock forward past your waiting lips.  After that it was just a matter of letting your throat relax and focusing on your limited chances to breath as he held your head and guided you.  

Whatever discomfort came from having your throat filled so deep was heavily outweighed by the incredible feeling of being used— it sounds debasing, but the way he stammered out praises made you feel anything but degraded.

“So good,” he grunted, “look up at me, darling, show me how good you look choking on me— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You were trying to be sexy, here on your knees in this tight dress and heels, but he had you feeling small and delicate saying things like that.

“Such a good girl,” he breathed; you had to shut your eyes then because you couldn’t hear that and look up at him or you were going to end up having to throw these panties out.

The volume of his moans was one thing, but the desperation in them was another; and both of them made it clear he was close, and you wanted to finish him off like this more than anything.

“Fuck— I’ll come,” he warned, “is that what you want?  To swallow it?”

You hummed in appreciation, hoping that would get your message across well; and it certainly seemed to, considering he bucked up into your throat more erratically than ever, moaning loudly with each thrust.

Hot come painted the back of your throat, so deep you never really got a chance to consider the taste although you imagined a night of drinking wouldn’t have done him any favors there.  Not that you minded; it was him and that was enough to make you moan with delight as he filled your mouth.

“Fuck,” he sighed, pumps of come slowing down to a stop as he relaxed against the door and caught his breath.  The moment of calm didn’t last as you started to gently suckle on his softening cock, making him tense up and suck in a sharp breath through his teeth.  “Nonono,” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling you off of him as you smiled mischievously, “it’d be a shame if I died on my birthday.”

“But what a way to go, hm?” you laughed as he helped you up from the floor.  “Not your birthday anymore anyways,” you noted, tapping on his watch, “it’s 12:02.”

“I hope you don’t think that means the party’s over,” he smirked, picking you up suddenly, making you laugh in surprise as he started to carry you to the bedroom.  “I’m officially a man in his forties with something to prove, so we’ll be going all night, draga.”

[bakugohoex]

“really? you wanna have sex…. here? now?”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: aged up, nsfw (spanking, choking, degradation, nipple play and fucking), language, alcohol and kissing

word count: 2100+

information: impatient collab masterlist hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting​

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed this little one shot and read all the other works that are in the collab masterlist up above

summary: in which you arrive at a pro hero event and with bakugo unable to keep his eyes off of you, you end up doing a lot more than catching up and drinking with your friends

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Stars enchanted the night sky, lust filled the air, you could almost see the sparks come from the enormous building. Streets were bombarded with black sleek cars, the twilight glint grazed across the flashing of cameras, one by one pro heroes flooded to the event. The only one Bakugo saw was you, both arriving separately, the suit fitted him perfectly but his eyes, god those scarlet eyes couldn’t keep off of you.

It was obvious to other pro heroes of the relationship, the heart eyes that filled him, the softness he seemed to get when looking at you, the longing eyes. He was a kid in love, and even after all these years it felt like seeing you for the first time.

The red dress clinged to your figure, thin straps encasing your shoulder. Bakugo would’ve stared longer if it wasn’t for Kirishima pushing him to the side “oi shitty hair.” He scowled but even then his gaze never left yours, catching you give a small lingering gaze to his own body.  But you turned to quickly follow Mina who had grabbed your hand, cameras continued to flash enthusiastically once inside. It was blinding, one photo after another with the people you worked with, but then he came.

“Ever so pretty aren’t you.” You could almost feel his grin etch onto your body.

The way the cameras had fallen in love, flashing multiple times at the two of you. His arm resting on your back it was a comfort of lovers in a public place. Your own arm touching his back, he could feel your soft fingers skimming up and down. It made him take a sharp breathe before giving a smirk, you played innocent, not a single word having been uttered between you two.

You noticed him look down at your shorter frame, the boy who had grown since your UA days had become more than you had ever thought. The sex appeal that he presented alongside with his hot-headed confidence made you swoon. His fingers lingered grazing the exposed skin at your back, it was sensitive but made you fluster.

His mouth went to your ear, it lingered bringing a soothing comfort you had missed, his hot breath fanning your exposed jaw. He had thought about every single thing he had wanted to say to you, how gorgeous and seductive you looked. But he didn’t, you heard him hum before departing from your ear. He had been eyeing your neck waiting to bruise it up but all he could think was how if he could, bend you right in front of the cameras and give a show to the world.

“Y/n.” Mina squealed grabbing your soft fingers, taking them running past multiple other pro heroes who were being shouted at to pose.

Her fingers were soft and Bakugo was left standing alone and silent, he grinned and looked forward watching how your body moved along with the dress. He wanted to grab you and whisk you away but the soft intimate movement you both had had would not occur again tonight. To let both you be seen, privately, touching each other, everything would be uncovered.

Greetings between your old classmates occurred, but even then, your eyes couldn’t leave the blonde. The suit fitted him perfectly, extenuating all his features, you seethed, embarrassment hitting at how easily you got turned on by him. His shirt was just a little too tight, the unbuttoned jacket letting his abs indent through the thin white shirt. Even his trousers encased his thighs, sitting down had done nothing but turn you on.

Your eyes filled with lust, rubbing your thighs together, all you wanted was to ride his rough thighs, cum all over them and then cum right on his veiny cock. He noticed your eyes shift and even with you silence between your friends, he noticed only you.

He knew you were riled up, knew how you tried to stand straight but could see how you trembled a bit, he noticed your fingers on your thighs. His outfit having done on a number on you, but who was to say he wasn’t riled up himself.

He knew you’d want to wait; knew he’d ravage you when you both arrived home. But under the yellow lights that provided warmth, he could see the beauty in you and that was what really turned him on. “Y/n they’re passing champaign we need to get a ton.” Mina buzzed already half drunk, you nodded still being quiet. Your thighs and core rubbing against one another made you tense, and you were scared a low muffle might come out and show Bakugo how much you craved him, lusted for him.

He stood up without a word, nobody questioned it, already expecting a grumble back from the man who had just been annoyed with Kirishima for taking his drink. You noticed the smirk and, in an instant, knew he was planning something that was definitely not going to end well. The event hadn’t even started and yet he was hurrying of, “Y/n you’re quieter than usual, you missing Bakugo beside you.” Kirishima mocked, raising an eyebrow at the boy before speaking.

“I had a long day today.”

At the sound of those words, Denki in an instant wiggled his eyes, “I bet you did.” You slapped his side shaking your head at his idiocrasy. You continued talking among yourself, you were still soaking but you were less turned on with the lack of Bakugo’s presence but also Denki and Kirishima fighting about their body counts.

Your phone flashed and it could only be one person, seeing his name with the heart, you opened the message and knew he was up to something.

‘meet me outside’

You left the boy on read, excusing yourself, Denki even giving you a thumbs up. “Have fun.” Muttered from the blondes mouth and you so wish you could hit him again.

Maybe you were oblivious but Bakugo didn’t care and on your arrival to the entrance were cameras still flashed outside and the ones inside hadn’t noticed you. You saw Bakugo leaning against a wall, his back facing away from the cameras, he smirked at the sight of you. His pretty little thing.

Grabbing your arm he pushed you through the doors of what looked like a storage cupboard, grabbing your waist and turning you. Your back hitting the door with a loud thunk, he turned the light on and even with it being a dusty cupboard, it was small, his body easily pressed against yours. Suffocating you both to become almost one entity, “Kat…”

He interrupted his finger to your mouth before his blush lips cascaded across your neck. The open mouth kisses made your back arch under his arm, you enticed him and all he wanted was you. “Arch that back for me baby, I’m going to make you cum.”

“Really? You wanna have sex…. here? Now?” The question had come out from your mouth breathlessly and looking up at you, the straps of your dress already falling off your shoulder. How could he ever stop himself at his only love.

He grinned, “yes, now be a good girl and turn around baby.” It was a command, his hands gripping your sides, your ass on full view. “This is for running off.”

A harsh smack was heard through the fabric, he smirked at how easily you had moaned at one little slap. But the way your ass felt under his hand even through the material was driving him wild. “No foreplay.”

“Ok…okay.” His left hand moved to cup one of your boobs and your knew where his other hand was going, massaging the breast with his hand he flicked his middle and index between your hard nipple.

He had noticed it when you had come to meet him, but here now it felt relaxed under his fingers. He knew once he got home, he couldn’t wait to suck on your nipples and eat you out like you deserved. He lifted the dress up gaining a better view of just how perfect your body was arched in front of him. “You’re going to be a good fucking girl and make sure nobody hears.”

You nod but the slap that indented your now red left cheek made you moan even louder for the boy, “use your fucking words.”

“Yes s…sir.” You tried to surpress a moan at how he tugged your underwear down, leaving it at your ankles. His fingers running back and forth feeling the slick coat his finger whilst his other hand continued to kneed at your boobs.

You could hear him undo his trousers with the slick coated fingers before a sucking noise coming from behind. The way he groaned at the taste of your body intoxicated you with more lust, without any hesitation or warning he slammed into you making you arch even more.

The feeling of his hard cock between your walls made you overflow with desire to feel him go deeper. “So tight for me princess.” He hummed moving back out before slamming back in going deeper.

“Faster.” You whispered trying to not moan as loud.

You could almost feel his grin behind you, it was sadistic, and he enjoyed it. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please f…faster sir.”

“That’s my little slut.” The degradation filled you his previously slick coated hand had been rubbing your ass with each thrust. But moving closer and closer to your neck, he brought it around your neck in an instant. Tightening it with ease, “you like this don’t yah, let’s make them all hear.”

It had dawned on you how a mere thin wall away was cameras and flashes that in a second could expose it all. You were too out of it to care, each thrust going in faster and deeper, he gripped your neck up bringing your chest up to the door. Your neck on full display with his rough callous hands wrapped around it making you lean against his shoulder. His other hand leaving your nipples and moving to the easily accessible clit rubbing at it to make you go into sensory overload.

“Fuck…yes, fuck baby.” His groans in your ear made you melt inside, feeling even more intoxicated and lustful.

Your legs had twitched due to the movement that made him angel different. He loved it too much, how on display you were, how he was able to move his mouth to bite at your jaw. It was heaven, moving back and forth and before you knew it you could feel yourself give way. “Cum.”

“Cum for me baby, come on me.” You did so letting the white gush out of your core, he felt you drip onto his cock but continued thrusting his release coming soon. A few hard thrusts into your numb cunt and his own white cum filled you up, you felt encased and Bakugo was definitely not making this easy for you.

“Such a good girl.” He cooed, grabbing your underwear and pulling it to your sore cunt, “you’re going to keep me inside of you.”

“Katsuki.” You whined feeling tired and rough and not having to keep his cum stuffed in you.

He did his belt watching how your hair was dishevelled and makeup slightly smudged but sortable. “Don’t you want to be a good fucking girl.”

He brought his hands to cup your cheek, putting his mouth on your own, it was a softer kiss but still had the rough tendencies of Bakugo. Whilst letting go he moved to your ear, “I’ll fuck you even harder at home, my little slutty girl.”

He put the red straps back up on your shoulders, smirking at how you had been praised but degraded at the same time. “I’m expecting a lot tonight.”

“Of course you are princess.” Kissing your temple his lips softer from feeling the moisture of your mouth, “go first and don’t be suspicious, okay dumbass.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waived him off sneakily getting out of the door, straightening your dress and moving to the bathroom.

Bakugo followed swiftly, acting like he hadn’t just fucked you into an oblivion and mere minute ago. Everything had seemed fine; nobody had noticed and most of the all the night was a success. That’s what you thought but what you both hadn’t noticed was the camera that had been angled right where the door was. And the flashing red light indicating it had recorded the both of you coming out with messy looks and a demeanour that you two were a lot more than just friends.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens

[ushidoux]

Good Teacher - Sugawara x Reader

Summary: You meet Sugawara on an online dating app expecting something tame, but get more than you expected. (~3.1k words)

Warnings:��fem pronouns, fem!reader, some features are described ***, dom/sub dynamics, collaring, daddy kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, spanking, edging, toy use, restraint use, sub drop

A/N: Again, this was a commission so some features are described!! Otherwise, please enjoy my first longer BDSM fic.

---

Being alone in your bedroom at 9pm on a Friday night may have felt like a loss on any other day, but today, with your phone buzzing non-stop and every neuron in the sexy parts of your brain firing, you could not think of anything else you would rather do.

Well, actually you could think of a few, and most of them involved slipping out of your pajamas and slipping under your new flame.

Sugawara Koushi.

A name like that sounded sweet. Maybe even bland. Safe.

When you’d swiped right on his profile on the tamer of your social media apps, you’d expected someone mild-mannered and easy to speak to. He was an elementary school teacher with soft features, white hair and a cute mole under his left eye. He couldn’t possibly be as forward as the other guys you’d dealt with over the years. A tame, responsible choice.

You’d started texting back and forth quickly, with polite, formal introductions which progressed to cute messages and long phone calls, and you’d even managed a very chaste first date where he’d picked you up at 8pm on the dot and taken you to a fine restaurant on the water.

You normally would have expected to be dicked down that night, and had paired sexy lingerie under your silky mauve dress for exactly that, but you weren’t too surprised when he left you at your doorstep with a peck on the forehead.

The only unsettling thing about the kiss was the way his eyes had lingered on your lips, just as his fingers trailed the curve of your jaw as he tucked your hair behind your ear. It was too practiced, too… dominant.

You suspected he was holding something back.

And he was, because once you’d ventured to call in the middle of the night, a little bit tipsy and yearning for a little bit more than a smile and a gentle touch from him, you’d broken some sort of dam.

He’d called you a needy, desperate, pretty little slut, desperate for Daddy’s cock but needing to prove herself that she was willing to ride with Daddy’s very, very strict set of rules first, and you’d practically cum at the sudden turn of his voice.

Now anything was fair game.

I have… particular taste. Are you sure you can keep up, princess?

The warmth between your legs and the image of full balls and a weighty, rigid cock told you, you would absolutely be ready for anything he had in store for you. 

Yes, daddy. I’m up for anything you want.

You, of course, couldn’t see the wide smile spreading across his face on the other end, as he palmed his cock slowly while reading your texts and admiring your nudes, and texted back:

We’ll need a shit ton of rope.

---

Sugawara’s hands are much larger than you’d anticipate, and rougher, and you wonder how much of it is due to high school athletics or from the fact that he’s quick to slap or spank you at any chance he gets. Your skin is sometimes red, sometimes bruised, and always marked, and it’s exactly the way you like it.

The first time you have sex, he starts you off as though you are the most shy of virgins even though you claim that you’re not exactly inexperienced.

“I wouldn’t want to break you, pretty girl,” he teases, as his hands worship your body, tracking down your waist to the center of your legs, and patting your cunt softly. Today, he’s promised to focus on your pleasure only because he wants to “break you in.” You wonder how many he’s “broken in,” then you realize you don’t really care. You’re his one and only princess right now, and you intend to be for quite a while. 

The pleasure of being a good dom is that he can choose to serve - he can choose to be doting and he can choose to be harsh with punishment. Since it’s your first day since you’ve entered this contract with him, he’s decided to focus on the catering part of his personality, and familiarize you with his desires.

The rose-gold Turian collar on your neck compliments your skin well, he takes note, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and leans you against him while you are seated on the edge of the bed and he’s kneeling just so before you, fingers deep in your cunt.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty little thing around your neck, aren’t you, pretty baby?”

His fingers move so fast that it’s hard for you to speak, and the arm that’s wrapped around your waist and keeping you flush against him is tightening the longer he continues. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you know from every heavy spank he’s given you.

“I-I will, daddy, every day and every night,” you pant out, your tongue lolling as his fingers curve upwards and his lips leave your nipple with a soft pop and make their way to your quivering mouth.

“Good,” he whispers as he bites your lower lip. “You’re so obedient… I like that in a little one,” he affirms.

---

He’s kind when he teaches, patient even. 

He’s also generous; he gifts you with your first corset, a dark, lacy and tight thing that almost takes your breath away initially, especially when he tightens it onto you himself. Even if it’s constraining, you feel empowered from the very moment you look in the mirror. Your breasts sit high, and you spin once in a gesture of delight; he kisses down your neck as you admire yourself.

“This is only to get you used to a little bit of restriction,” he reassures, as he pulls you into his lap. “But I can’t deny that you look breathtaking.”

---

Since you’ve been so bold as to take his breath away, it isn’t too long until he decides he wants to see what you look like when you’re truly struggling for air. After all, the little shiny thing around your neck catches his eye way too often for his comfort, and his pants suddenly feel too tight for a casual grocery store run.

Your safeword is red, like the blood that courses through your veins as his fingers tighten around your throat.

He thumbs your pink, puffy lips, and it would be loving if he wasn’t calling you a stupid little cocktease.

“Pretty little bambi, prancing around like you’re free to be with anyone other than me.”

The breath that tickles your face is a taunt, because you’re slowly getting lightheaded, barely able to focus on the long index finger he’s commanding you to suck. 

The pressure he puts on your neck is varying; for moments you can draw a single staccato breath, which encourages him to press his lips to yours and absorb you in a kiss before he reapplies pressure; his naked body presses against yours, rolling painstakingly slow. He hasn’t even entered you yet.

Breathplay, he calls it.

You gasp as his cock slips into your wet entrance just as fast as his hand leaves your throat, and he too draws a deep breath as he fills you to the hilt. 

He lets out a soft laugh as he caresses the hair that is sticking to your face, and readjusts himself yet again - of course, he’s also better endowed than you’d expect him to be - before he picks up speed and chokes you again.

---

“I… Kou-”

“Daddy,” he stresses, unphased as he continues to press a small clitoral stimulator to your tender, overworked bud.

“D-Daddy~” you cry out in a soft, drawn out whine, and you shift a little bit because the ties that keep your ankles attached to the legs of the chair, your pussy exposed and vulnerable with your crotch wide open, are starting to dig into your skin. But you can’t move all that much, there’s additional rope around your waist that keeps you against the back of the chair and you think the soft satin that keeps your wrists behind you is probably overkill, even if you have to admit you like the color.

“Yes, sweetheart~” he whispers in a voice accented with assertive sweetness, his eyes still lowered and focused on the heave of your chest as he watches you drip before him.

“I-” 

You scream.

He’d angled the toy upwards, and somehow within the small bundle of nerves he’s targeted an even more precise cluster of endings - there’s a flash of white you see before you cum practically violently, lurching forward so rapidly that he has to keep the chair steady so that you won’t fall over on the pretty little face he adores.

It’s possibly the fourth time he’s had to ground you in the past hour, and it’s an act of mercy because he had been edging you repeatedly, forcing your pussy to clench desperately around nothing but air.

The way you gush and spray so lewdly onto the chair, onto the floor, onto the hand he plays on your sopping wet pussy reminds him he chose very, very well.

---

It’s nearly silent and it’s dark now, far too dark for you to see. 

Your Koushi has prepared you for this next step lovingly, sometimes not so lovingly over the past couple of weeks to build up to this.

The blindfold that obscures your vision is soft and slightly sweet smelling, as though spritzed with a floral scent about a day ago prior to this. Again your hands are bound, but he’s used lined handcuffs instead of ties, and your wrists are before you, not behind you. 

But you’re lying on your belly, a spreader forcing your thighs apart. He must really love the way your pussy looks staring him in the face.

“You seem to be a glutton for punishment, princess,” he says, accenting his words with a hard slap on your inner thigh. You gasp, but his hands linger tighten, and are then followed by what can only be the press of his tongue against the stinging portion.

“Daddy, I’ll behave, I’m so sorry,” you moan as his hand grips a generous portion of your asscheek.

But you won’t behave, because you’ve learned that Suga likes just a touch of bratty behavior and that gets him quite physical with you. He knows this just as much as you.

He slaps your ass fervently, the slight jiggle drawing a pleased sigh from his lips.

“You’re a silly little slut, though…” he starts, rubbing a hand along the length of your thigh, “how can I trust any of your promises?”

His finger travels to your open center, and when he sees you tense up, he stops.

“You need a firm hand to guide you always…”

His right hand curves again around your cunt and his middle and ring finger finds its way into your slippery hole, while his index taps your clit and his little finger (he’s dexterous like this), taps ever so lightly around your asshole. 

You shudder.

“Arch your back, you little cumslut. Make it easy for daddy.”

As you inch backwards slowly using your elbows and knees to rise up, his right hand continues to move with you, but then his other hand lands heavily on your other asscheek.

It breaks your concentration and you almost fall because it takes quite a lot more energy than you would expect to move this way with your hands bound and your legs spread, but you persevere. 

For him.

Before you can whine once you’ve gotten into position, he withdraws his hand from your cunt.

“No!” You find yourself shrieking before you realize. You can’t have him edge you again, he’s absolutely cruel, you can’t…

“Oh, I thought I called the shots here, princess,” Sugawara reminds you, voice honeyed and cruel. You can feel his fingers weave into your hair and the warm tip of what must be his cock prod at your entrance.

“Sir, please~”

“Beg.”

He spreads you open with a hand massaging your ass, again tapping teasingly all around your vagina, but he won’t push in to give you the pleasure of having his cock inside you.

Your heart is pounding with desire.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please fill me up, daddy!”

That statement of desire earns you an inch, an inch that makes you swallow saliva hard and your muscles tense with need and want.

“M-more, more please!”

“You’re so demanding. I would say your eyes are bigger than your pretty little pussy, but you can’t see, can you?”

He laughs, but he pushes in further another inch, than another, moving painstakingly slow, slow enough that you’re biting your lower lip until blood is drawn. The stretch is achingly delicious but it leaves you starved for more.

You’re begging and whining, and soon you’re trying your best to sink onto him further but he’s got you restrained for a reason.

“Greedy little bitch,” he murmurs, but he kisses your neck lovingly as he fills you to the hilt.

The unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh and minimal friction fills the room but you care less about sound, only about the slap of his balls against your cunt as he thrusts into you from behind.

More. Deeper. Faster. Harder.

He’s a master at drawing desire out of you, you wonder if you even needed these toys and ties and other accoutrements. You’re already so utterly wrapped for him. 

---

There’s a movie playing on your screen that you had both been pretending to watch, cuddled together on the couch, your legs resting across his lap. You had barely gotten through the opening credits before he pulled you onto him fully and had you straddle him.

“You want a snack, pretty baby?” He whispers, as though it weren’t just the two of you staring in each other’s eyes.

Your eyelashes bat and you nod.

He doesn’t break eye contact while he reaches for a strawberry, fresh from the farmer’s market you’d strolled through this morning, from a bowl set on the table. 

This one is drizzled in chocolate, and he runs it along the length of your collarbone, eye contact still heavy and unflinching before he dips down to catch it in his mouth.

It hangs out halfway from his teeth and he cues you to take it from him mouth to mouth. You split half of it, letting the sweet tartness permeate your senses.

His arm hooks around your waist and pulls you in close as he presses his lips against yours. You weren’t aware of the glob of strawberry-flavored saliva he’d collected until he draws away, tilts your head back and tells you to open up wide so he can spit directly into your mouth.

---

“Swallow.”

Suga’s relentlessly pounding an erect, frustrated and thick cock into your mouth, past your teeth and down your poor throat, and he’s close to his release now, you can tell by the way he’s now pressed your face so far against him that his carefully cropped pubes prick your face.

He’s warning you beforehand, and you’re thankful for the warning because when he cums with a soft, almost angelic moan, his penis jerks inside your mouth ever so slightly, and there’s a gush of hot, slippery liquid that slides down your throat.

You breathe through your nose. He tastes sweet, maybe it’s because of the strawberries from just earlier today, but nevertheless it’s a pleasant liquid you gulp down around his cock.

He loves the way your throat feels when it clamps around him, especially when you initially gag once accepting his cock.

You’re perfect.

“Come up, darling,” he bids you, pulling you up from your position on your knees.

“Are you gonna fill me up, daddy?” You mewl softly as he lifts up and carries you before laying you on your back.

“Yes, pretty baby, but let me taste your juicy little cunt first,” he says before he dives in between your legs.

---

“You’re so good for me, you know that, don’t you?”

He kisses your neck softly as he holds you close to him while you lay in bed together. It’s close to 1am and he’s focused on aftercare, caressing your arms and waist and the curve of your hip gently. You’re facing away from him, not because you’re upset, but because you’re exhausted.

He’s worried you’re having a sub-drop; after all, he’s spent the last two hours slapping your face and calling you disgusting. He wonders if you forgot to use your safe word.

You’re new to this and he’s put you through a lot in the past few weeks.

“Sweetness,” he whispers, directly into your ear. “Look at me?”

You turn, cheeks still flushed from particularly hard slaps. His heart aches a bit for you, because those sweet lips are pulled downwards into a frown and he’s not sure if those are fresh tears that wet your eyelashes. 

He kisses your eyelids then rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Are you doing okay, my princess?”

You nod and reach for his face with your fingertips. Your dom softens under your touch because you are so precious to him. His fingers close around yours and he kisses your forehead.

“The most important thing is your comfort,” he asserts. He taps the collar around your neck that suggests in some way that you are his and he is yours. “You can take this off at any time.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. It’s been fun and it’s also been freeing to have him take care of you. There’s a soft haze that wafts around your brain lately as you surrender to him. You are in love with him, deeply, in such a short amount of time.

“I would never,” you say, finally. 

His heart skips a beat.

“Unless you want to buy me a nicer one, of course.”

He chuckles. 

“You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” He remarks. He’s glad to look down at you and see you smiling again, eyes bright and brown. He reaches for your ass cheek, then raises your leg so that it lies across his hip. 

Your eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Well, that’s why you picked me to teach, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow, and the cheeky grin on your face is enough to make him get absolutely hard again.

Of course, only if you’re up to the task.

Suga bites gently on your lip again, his hand on your thigh. 

“I didn’t expect you to learn so quickly.”

“Maybe you really do have the gift of teaching,” you reply, as you stick your tongue into his mouth.

[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe do that part 5 of truth or drink you alluded to?? :) with Jules and the lupins and basically Jules spilling ALLL of re’s secrets & Marley loving it 🥰

Oh, Jules, how I missed you. The truth or drink referenced in this ask is here (it's been an age since I did one, wow!) and SW credit of course goes to @lumosinlove!

“Please can we have alcohol?” Jules swung his legs under the table with wide, pleading eyes.

Marlene barked a laugh. “Over my dead body, baby Loops.”

“It would be,” Remus agreed with a teasing grin.

“Welcome back to Lion Pride, both of you,” she said, ruffling their hair. Both scrunched their faces up in identical expressions of displeasure. “There are fifteen cards in your deck, and if you don’t want to answer the question, you have to take a drink of apple juice. Not alcohol.”

“You used to be cool,” Jules sulked. Marlene rolled her eyes and Remus reached over to flick his ear. “Hey, that hurt!”

“No, it did not.”

“I’m gonna tell mom you hit me.”

Remus turned to Marlene with a long-suffering look. “Can I have alcohol?”

“Get crackin’, boys, the world wants to know your secrets.” She tapped the deck of cards with a wink and wandered behind the cameras again.

“Alright, here we go.” Remus sighed. “My name is Remus Lupin, I’m the Lions’ right wing, and I’m here with my baby brother to answer some questions. Take it away, Jules.”

“I’m not a baby,” Jules clarified to the camera. “I’m twelve. Who’s the most attractive sibling?”

Remus frowned. “Me? Just ‘cause I’m older.”

“As if.”

“Oh my god,” he muttered, reaching for his own card. “Oh, this should be fun. Name your favorite parent.”

“Dad,” Jules answered without hesitating. Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“First, you’re not supposed to answer that fast, and second, what?”

“Dad’s cool!”

“Dad is not cool!” Remus laughed. “I don’t have a favorite parent—”

“Liar.”

“—but mom is the cool one. Dad’s a dork, and we love him for it.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Mom would literally do anything for you. She learned to skate for you.”

“It’s not like I don’t love mom!” Jules protested as he took a new card. “I love her so much! And I know mom is your favorite, so it’s only fair. Which of us is the most successful, and which is the screwup?”

“I don’t have a favorite parent,” Remus insisted, leaning back in his seat. “And neither of us are screwups.”

“You’re more successful.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re a screwup. It means you’re twelve. Who’s the overachiever?”

“You,” Jules snorted. “You’re such a nerd. It’s embarrassing. What’s the meanest thing I did to you when we were kids?”

Remus rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment, then turned to look behind the camera. “Since we were only kids together for, like, three years, can I say something from a little later?”

“Anything before age 25,” Marlene called.

He nodded decisively. “Sweet. In that case, it’s the time this little monster let a rat into the house, freaked out when he didn’t know what to do, then locked it in my bedroom and didn’t tell anyone until I went to bed and something ran across my sheets.”

Jules shrugged. “You survived.”

“Yeah, and you almost didn’t.”

“So dramatic,” he muttered.

Remus whacked him over the head with the next card before reading it. “Oh, god. Share the most mortifying memory you have of me. If you drink that apple juice and don’t answer, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”

Jules leaned back with a hum, already grinning. “Let’s see…”

“No,” Remus groaned.

“Probably—” Jules broke off to giggle. “Probably when you took me into the locker room to meet the team and the whole time I was talking to Sirius, you looked like you were about to melt into the floor. You had this stupid grin on your face—”

“Shut up.”

“—and almost tripped over your own feet, like, four times. This was before you guys were dating, too.”

“You are the worst,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms. “Next question?”

“I can keep going. There was the time you gave yourself a black eye hanging Christmas lights, and when you bounced off an enforcer when you tried to check him, and when mom asked you to defrost the chicken for dinner and you forgot so you put it in the microwave and almost set the house on fire, and—“

“Marlene.” Remus raised his head with a pitiful look. “Please make him stop. Please.”

“Okay,” Marlene laughed, a little breathless. “Alright, one sec. Jules, your turn.”

“Ugh, fine. Do you let me win at things?”

“When you were five, sure.” Remus tilted his head to the side. “Otherwise, no. Do you want me to let you win?”

“I’d be so upset if you did. I only get better because I want to kick your ass one day.”

“Language. Am I a good brother?”

“Well, yeah,” Jules said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked at Remus, clearly confused. “Duh. You’re weird and annoying, but you’re one of my top three favorite people?”

“Before or after dad?” Remus teased, but it was soft with fondness.

Jules narrowed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the table. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Have I ever disappointed you?”

“Never. I don’t think you could if you tried. Who’s smarter?”

“Me.” Remus gave the camera a disbelieving look as Jules took a new card. “Ha! I like this one. Which of us was a mistake?”

“Oh, that is a good one. Honestly, I don’t think either of us were planned. Mom and dad definitely weren’t expecting a kid at 21 and 25, and absolutely weren’t planning on another one fifteen years later.”

Jules cast the camera a bright smile. “Oops!”

“But we’re their best mistakes,” Remus said solemnly with the ghost of a smile, as if he was repeating a sentiment that had been said many times before. “Okay, I need to have a talk with whoever set up these questions. Do an impersonation of me, or drink to—”

“Oh, look at me, I’ve got a fancy degree,” Jules mimicked, dropping his voice comically low. “I’m so cool, I’ve got a secret boyfriend and I’m not gonna tell anyone about it for three whole months even though I suck at keeping secrets. I’m tall, so I’m gonna grab my awesome little brother by the ankles and shake him around—”

“You asked me to—”

“Shh! I’m not done!”

Remus gave him an incredulous look. “They get the point!”

Jules stuck his tongue out, but grabbed a new card from the stack. “What are your best and worst memories of mom and dad?”

“Aw, man.” Remus tapped his short stack of cards on the table and bit his lip. “Best and worst…best would probably be Christmas two or three years ago, when we all went skating on the lake.”

“That’s a good one,” Jules mused.

“It’s hard to think of my worst memory of them. Um, maybe after I stopped playing hockey in college? There was a lot of walking on eggshells and it was really uncomfortable.”

Remus read the next card and his frown dissolved into laughter; he reached for the apple juice and filled both glasses to the brim, then pushed them across the table to Jules without a word. “What are these for? You have to read the card, dummy.”

“The most spoiled sibling has to drink,” Remus said with a wide grin.

“It’s not me!” Jules protested, though it was weak. “You were an only child for fifteen years!”

“Yeah, and?” His amusement only grew as Jules struggled to make a comeback. “See, you can’t even deny it! You’re the baby of the family and everybody loves you. How many times have you been to Gryffindor?”

Jules opened and closed his mouth a few times, going red with indignance.

“How many?” Remus’ expression was pure glee. “Buddy, I didn’t leave Wisconsin for anything other than roadies until you were old enough to travel, and then mom and dad had to show you off to everyone.”

“They love you, too!”

“I know they do,” Remus laughed. “They’re great parents and we both had amazing childhoods. You’re still the more spoiled one.”

“I don’t like this game,” he muttered as he drank one of the glasses. “And I’m not drinking that other one. Okay, last question. Should we see more of each other?”

“Of course,” Remus said. “I wish we lived closer to each other all the time. Do you think so?”

Jules reached for the glass, then burst out laughing when Remus’ jaw dropped. “Oh, I got you so good! But yeah, I miss you a ton during the school year.”

“You little…” Remus bit back his threat and ruffled Jules’ hair despite his protests, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “Keep that up and you’re gonna get flipped again.”

“You wouldn’t. Not on camera.”

“Try me.”

Jules bolted from his seat and tried to make a run for it, but Remus was faster—he caught him around the waist, hefted him under one arm, and turned him around until he could get ahold of his skinny ankles. “No!” Jules shrieked through his giggling as Remus started swinging him lightly back and forth. “No, no, put me down!”

“Just making sure you really don’t want to see more of me,” Remus said, alight with happiness. Jules’ fingers nearly touched the ground. “You’re almost too big for this.”

“Good,” Jules wheezed. “Are we done yet?”

Remus looked back to the camera. “Thanks for tuning into Lion Pride, everyone. Make sure to like and subscribe if you want a slow-motion tutorial on how to transform your little brother into an emergency pendulum.”

“No!”

“Can you get down by yourself?”

Jules stretched his arms toward the floor, but Remus pulled him up an inch just as his fingertips brushed the tile. “Hey! Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Pulling me up!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said, adding another inch.