#dammit stop making smoking sexy
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This is my type of Freaky Friday…
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Fratboy Gojo
Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader
More headcanons from Took you Like a Shot - these are extra scenes set after chapter 2, but can be read alone- MDNI- explicit - whipped, longing Gojo- phone sexm, masturbation (Satoru and reader) dirty talk, fluffy ass cuteness, Satoru whimpers, lots of feelings -other headcanons here
Fratboy Gojo should be enjoying his trip with his best friends, but it's getting depressing, even on the cruise to the fucking Bahamas, shouldn't he be having the time of his life? His eyes don't even give anyone attention, how could he when he knows you're back home, pregnant- fuck have you changed in the past couple weeks?
Fratboy Gojo decides not to go out with his friends that night and stay in their suite himself, staring at the phone and contemplating for just a moment before he gives in, calling you. 'Hey Gojo' you say softly, sleep in your voice, making him ache. 'Hey sweetheart, were you asleep?' he hears your yawn, smiling like a lovesick idiot. He guesses that's what he is. 'No, just reading' 'ya reading that smut?' you giggle now 'mmhmm'
Fratboy Gojo hears your little sigh, driving him insane with need, just hearing it makes him hard, throbbing under his boxers while he lays sprawled in the giant, fancy suite that feels empty without you. 'Ya miss me brat?' you scoff now. 'no, never - why do you miss me?' Satoru scoffs now 'no, never, so peaceful without you' you glare at the phone, and he can damn near feel it 'I'm kidding' you bite your lip now, shifting in your bed, hearing his husky voice rushing through you. 'I was kidding too, I kind of miss you, just a little' he smirks, a hand leading down his flat abs, slowly, picturing your pretty body in his mind. 'you just miss cumming, hmm?'
Fratboy Gojo glares when you retort - 'think I don't make myself cum?' 'you're a slutty girl, aren't you?' you feel it, the heat clenching in your tummy. 'I'm mad at you, Satoru - leaving me in this state right after you did that... thing with your mouth' he chuckles, thumb brushing over the trail of silvery hair under his belly button, as you slip up your shorts just a bit, brushing yourself over them, whining before you can stop it. 'You liked me drinking that pussy up, hmm?' you're throbbing around nothing, dammit. 'shouldn't you be partying, dancing or whatever? smoking?' 'maybe I just wanna talk to you, maybe I wanna... be back between your thighs, fuck you'd like that, wouldn't you?'
Fratboy Gojo grins when you huff so clearly over the phone. 'Can I get a picture you think?' you hesitate a bit. 'picture of what?' 'titties' You roll your eyes, but he gets an image- moaning when he sees them 'fuck they're so sexy, wanna suck on those nipples - touch them, would you?' you do as he asks, thumbs running over your nipples in circles. 'they hurt' you pout as your back arches, your nipples pressed against the thin top you're wearing, pussy soaking your shorts even worse while Satoru frees his cock, which is already leaking precum against his lower belly button. 'imagine how they'll be dripping milk, hmm? I'm gonna suck it all up' 'Satoru!' he's chuckling just a bit, but it's too late, you're both too far gone
Fratboy Gojo eases his boxers down fully, thick cock so hard it hurts, imagining just that, milk dripping from your puffy nipples. 'what, you wouldn't like it?' you feel yourself heating up then - 'perv' - he laughs softly, but it turns to a whine when his thumb presses his tip. 'are you stroking yourself, Satoru? thinking of me?' he curses internally, when that bratty little voice is crying out. 'you're touching your pussy, wanting my mouth, aren't you?' you nod, knowing he can't see, as the two of you play with yourselves, his eyes close, hearing you then. 'I can hear how wet you are, fuck' 'mnh!'
Fratboy Gojo can't take it, the longing, he can't hold back like he has been, not on the phone, drunk off your voice, the memories. 'I wanna lick it all up, so wet, isn't she?' you're gasping out, while you pump two little fingers in your soppy little hole. 'y-yes, do you want that, me pouring all over your face?' 'god you're a freaky brat, gonna dirty talk better than me!?' you're both whining, him stroking, you pumping. 'I r-read a lot of smut' he's breathless, listening to your moans grow louder and louder, while his cock twitches, he leans down to spit on it, while you drool down your own fingers. 'that journalism degree- ah f-fuck- it's j-just for you to write... smut... fuck!' you can't glare, you're too wet, pulsing around your fingers, whining 'm'close, Satoru, p-please...'
Fratboy Gojo moans as your words wash through him. 'I wish I was there right now, fuck... want my fingers instead, don't you? yours can't hit that spot?' you whine in frustration. 'y-you little... conceited- shouldn't have g-gone...' he exhales, head leaning back on the soft pillows as yours do 'I know, fuck I know... work your clit, it's easier baby, okay?' you do as he suggests, running in circles, engorged clit twitching under your touch. 'm-mad at you...' he gulps now, cock so close to busting. 'm-mad at myself, please just... will you cum for me baby?' Baby, he's calling you baby, and you're close, hearing his breaths, hearing his wet strokes. 'picture me right there' you do then, shattering, cumming so much you soak your hands, while Satoru chases his release from hearing you.
Fratboy Gojo loses it when you whisper 'you cum for me, now, hmm Satoru? be good' 'fuck you for that, mnh! close, close' you're sucking yourself off your fingers. 'I taste yummy' oh god, he's done, busting so much all over his hand now, white ropes endlessly pouring sticky across his hand, as just hearing him makes your cunt pulse in response. 'want a picture, for fap material?' you roll your eyes, shaking your head. 'you're so annoying...' you pause then. 'yeah.'
Fratboy Gojo uses his clean hand, sending it so quickly, and it makes your pussy clench again, pretty cock coated with cum - with some dumb little cat sticker with it's tongue out - 'fuck... your cock is pretty' 'is that a compliment!?' 'psh... no. a fact. jerk' Satoru cleans up, pressing you on speaker then, as you clean up as well, laying back down, putting him on speaker too. 'I'm upset you left, but I don't blame you for having a life... I guess, I'm just... lonely' Satoru pauses now, emotions in his throat after having that release. 'I wish you told me not to go... I could leave early?' you shake your head. 'no, it's okay, I told you, you're sacrificing enough, this wasn't your choice'
Fratboy Gojo feels something just gnawing at him now, what was he doing here? trying to cling to some bachelor life while you're changing everything about yourself for this. 'I should let you get some sleep' you murmur then, and Satoru shuts his blue eyes, snowy lashes fluttering, when he pulls a pillow close. 'wanna fall asleep on the phone?' you pause, tugging your pillow against yourself. 'yeah we can... Satoru why aren't you out?' because all he can think about is you, that's why. 'I didn't feel like it, get some sleep brat, aren't you growing my baby inside you?' His baby. His. The thought makes him crave you so badly it's difficult to stand it. 'your parasyte you said, remember?' he snorts in laughter. 'it still technically is, you're just emotioal about it'
Fratboy Gojo doesn't know when he fell asleep, but he wakes up and you're still on the phone, lightly snoring... and he knows then, he made the wrong fucking decision. When his friends stumble in and bring girls back, heading to their rooms, Satoru shuts his door, so he can listen to you breathe instead, the only good sleep he's gotten since he's been here.
I'll be doing these between chapters as this story will have some time skips- I hope you enjoyyyy <3
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#frat boy gojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo smut#fratboy gojo#jjk college au#satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo drabbles#gojo headcanons#divider by cafekitsune#satoru gojo x female reader
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Buggy sighed in frustration as he clenched another important document that he absolutely couldn't care less about as he tried to make sense of the words on it. Crocodile rolled his eyes at his "dramatic theatrics", as he put it. And while Buggy did indeed hold the sigh a bit longer than necessary, he could argue it was a very justified reaction. The words on the paper were basically alphabet soup in his brain as it completely shut down, unable to process any more information.
He rubbed his eyes as if that would somehow fix the problem. He felt closer to death with every second he spent inside the dreary office tent. The room was suffocating, filled with the smoke of Crocodile's never ending cigars. Buggy desperately needed fresh air and exposure to direct sunlight, or a poor crew member was going to find his corpse under all those papers by the end of the day.
"Croccy, it's been hours... How many more signatures do you need from me?"
Crocodile puffed out the smoke in his mouth as he spoke, making the air in the tent even heavier. Buggy had to hold himself back from coughing as he kept his eyes locked to the other man's unimpressed ones. "You're the one who insisted on reading all the documents when I already had done so. You could have just quickly signed all of them and left by now if you weren't so stubborn."
"Of course I have to read them! How can I trust you? You could be making me sign away my life to the slave trade for all I know!"
Crocodile laughed menacingly, the only way he knew how, as far as Buggy had seen. "No one would pay good money for you, clown. And if I wanted to sell you off I would have done it by now."
Buggy crossed his arms with a frown, ready to argue with his business partner, but he was cut by a low-ranking worker entering the tent reluctantly.
"I'm saved." He thought as Crocodile got up to talk to the poor man. He took the moment to sneak outside, limb by limb. As he put himself back together outside of the tent, he took the sunlight in with a sigh and cracked his back in relief. He was unfortunately too old and certainly too sexy for an office job. Being an Emperor was supposed to be more flashy than this god dammit!
He locked eyes with the shaky man as he left the tent, and gave him a reassuring smile. The man visibly relaxed, smiling wide as he bowed down before leaving Buggy's presence.
Buggy hated how much Crocodile ruled by fear. These were his men! He was responsible for their well-being and happiness! Well, he couldn't even protect his own well-being so how could he do the same for his enormous crew...
"Don't think so hard, your head will explode."
Buggy jumped in his place as Crocodile spoke in his ear. Too close! When had he snuck up on him? He was too tired to deal with this.
"I'm gonna go now."
"Not before you sign the papers."
"I'm tired..."
"Then don't read them."
"But I want to!"
"THEN GET BACK IN THERE!" Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool after his outburst. "Okay, you either go in willingly or I'll drag you in there myself if I have to." He moved his hook at an angle, making the light reflect off its sharp edge menacingly. And Buggy probably should have listened, but something snapped in him.
"Stop threatening me with that damn hook of yours! You know I can't get cut."
"But you can get pierced, can't you?"
Buggy gulped, sweat forming on his forehead but not daring to drop. "... You wouldn't dare."
"And why's that?"
"Because..." Buggy stared the scary man in the eyes and was somehow overcome with boldness he couldn't explain. "Because this" he gestured to his face with exaggerated motion "is what sells your shitty personality to everyone!" He was spitting out the words like venom, emphasising every word slowly. "You need me. Certainly more than I need you. You're just an overgrown accountant, but I'm a fucking Emperor. I leave, and the thousands of men under me also leave. You are nothing without me. So stop acting like you can get rid of me without consequences. I dare you to pierce me with that hook."
"..."
Buggy smiled smugly. "I'm gonna take a nap now."
He was lighter than a feather as he made his way to his tent, the smile never dropping from his face. He did it! Well, he wasn't quite free but it was certainly a step in the right direction. And sue him, he was fucking proud of himself.
As he left with his head in the clouds, he was completely unaware of the scene he left behind him. Crocodile was fuming. He felt hot with anger and another annoying, sticky emotion eating at his insides. He completely ignored Mihawk, who had been a witness to the whole conversation.
The swordsman raised a brow in question at the man's silence. "What are you gonna do now, go masturbate?"
Crocodile stared daggers at the man before turning into sand and flowing away. And he absolutely did not masturbate to thoughts about the clown. Ridiculous Hawk Eye really thought he knew everything...
(and he did.)
#I feel so rusty with writing 😖 especially little drabbles like this#the beginning of this has been a draft for months... glad I could finally complete it#also not related but I'm dying of heat rn#one piece#buggy the clown#cross guild#sir crocodile#dracule mihawk#crocbug#crocobug
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That picture of the cigarette consequences boy makes me think of Billy planning on telling Neil/Hopper that he's dating Steve. Or maybe he knows they've been seen together, so he's outside, sucking down his last Red, head tilted toward the meagre Indiana sun, breathing in crappy cow shit air. Might be his last breath. Might be his last cigarette. Better make the most of existing.
ANON I AM SHAKING YOU!!!
Ok but the way the two scenarios hit so different… because if it’s hopper we can assume a path where maybe he’s not totally hip to gay people but like he’s not gonna disown billy or anything (Joyce would never allow it) so yes billy is preparing for the worst going into it but ultimately the outcome will be fine
BUT WITH NEIL!!!!
He really is savoring these moments like they’re his last and they very well could be! 😔 billy knows what’s waiting for him inside but he’s still gonna face it head on because he was raised that way and dammit if it didn’t stick.
And then billy stumbling out of the house later just as Steve’s speeding to a stop, car halfway on the lawn, drove straight over across town when he heard what billy was up to from max, heart hammering in his throat expecting to have to break out his bat to get neil off of billy who’s hopefully still alive
But billys there standing in two feet on the steps, face bleeding and on its way to bruising as he takes out his last smoke and lights up, cocksure grin on his face as he blows out smoke and saunters over to Steve and running on pure adrenaline grabs him by the shirt and kisses him right there in front of Neil’s house, knowing he’s never gonna step foot in there again and he’s officially an orphan because that little meeting sealed the deal on ending that particular relationship, neil and billy are both dead to each other, and billy finally feels free
And Steve’s knocked a little breathless there for a moment taking it all in before he snaps back to reality like ��this is all very sexy for you and I’m gonna fuck you silly later but I think we should go before your dad comes out with a gun” 😌
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.
katsuki bakugou | f!reader, implied(ish) mafia!kats, choking, exhibitionism, cockwarming, riding, mild corruption themes, degradation, whore/slut!calling. minors dni!
— 2.5k words
"Listen, I don't give a fuck about your friend—I wanna get to know you better."
“Um, excuse me? Have you seen my friend?”
The ash-blond swimming in smoke stills, mid-conversation with some half-dressed woman to his right. In fact, all the half-dressed women snap their heads your way, all ten of them, sizing you up in your non-promiscuous dress and heels (not compared to theirs, at least) and obvious awkwardness and uncouthness. The ash-blond frowns.
“How’d you fuckin’ get in here?”
“Um,” you glance at the green-haired bouncer who let you through—he’s too busy guarding the entrance to notice. “I just pretended like I knew who you were and he...let me in?”
“Fuckin’ Deku,” the ash-blond groans, rubbing a hand over his face before tossing it over the back of the booth. “Whadd’ya want?”
“Um, I was wondering if you’ve seen my friend,” you repeat, hands fiddling with your bracelets as you crack under the pressure of all the eyes. “She’s um, kinda short with long brown hair. I don’t...it was hard to see the color of her dress in the dark, but I think it was purple?”
The ash-blond blinks as you fumble over your words, causing a second of silence where he does nothing but stare until he snaps, digging his cigar into the ash-tray with finality.
“All right. Shoo, ladies.”
The women surrounding the ash-blond whine and boo. He seems unfazed though, simply shrugging as he says:
“Gotta help this pretty thing find her friend.”
The women clear out quickly and quietly after that. And though you’re unsure why, many of them shoot very nasty looks your way as they pass under the neon red exit sign and into the chaotic club. They look like they want to kill you.
Anyways.
“So...does that mean you know where my friend is?”
“Nope,” the ash-blond says, popping the ‘p’ as he adjusts to the extra space in the booth. “But you get a solid fuckin’ view from up here. Sit.”
You nod and take the spot next to him, scanning the crowd below with narrowed eyes. You look for something, anything that could hint at where your friend could be, but wind up empty-handed.
"D'ya come here often?" he asks, and you shake your head.
"No. I mean, I heard the place is kind of new anyway, so," you shrug absentmindedly. You think you see your friend for a second, just catching a glimpse of brown hair, but once the girl turns, it's clear she's not who you're looking for. Dammit.
"Guess so," the man grunts. You hear him shift but you don't look. "The o—"
"Shoes, did you see her shoes?" You ask before realizing your thought process is light years ahead of his. He gives you a blank look. "I mean—sorry, they're like, really high stilettos with gold on the bottom. I think."
The stranger's angled eyebrows drop. "No."
"Dammit," you click your tongue, before turning back to the crowd. No...no...no...no...
"Listen, I'm not gonna sugar coat it—I don't give a fuck about your friend." He says with a sigh. Your head snaps to look at him because it doesn't matter if he meant it, that's rude, but your thoughts disintegrate into nothing as he grabs you by the chin and says, "I wanna get to know you better."
"Um," You swallow. He's close to the point where your eyes cross trying to put him into focus. "M-Me?"
"You," he confirms with a cocked eyebrow. "What, never been the center of attention before, Princess?"
You falter. Not like this.
"So," he continues when you don't respond. "What's your name, Princess? I'm Katsuki."
You give him yours and meet his hand halfway for a handshake, much too aware of how big it is compared to yours. Katsuki hums, both arms on either side of your being and ultimately, caging you to the booth.
"Y/N..." He repeats, experimentally, like he's trying to see how it fits in his mouth. You don't mind the way it sounds coming from him. "I like it.”
"O-Oh, um," you're unsure of what to say, so you do nothing but blush and place a hand to his chest. You try your hardest to hide your surprise upon feeling how firm it is. "Thank you."
"Don't gotta thank me for stating the obvious," Katsuki grunts, adjusting so his eyes are leveled with yours. "What do you like to do, Y/N?"
There's a hand on your thigh.
It sits right where your dress stops, and it burns—but you find yourself unsure of what you want it to do, whether you want it to go away or continue its journey up. And that's exactly what it does, as Katsuki thumbs the hem to your skirt and you try your hardest to focus on your reply.
"U-Um..." you panic, too much heat in his eyes for comfort. "I don't know."
Katsuki raises an eyebrow in faint amusement, "You don't know?"
"W-Well, I mean—!" You try after realizing how utterly empty-headed you must sound. Katsuki's chuckle diffuses your efforts fairly quickly.
"You're cute, you know that?" He says gruffly, carmine red eyes burning through the dark of the club. You suppress the urge to shrink.
"I—um, thank you," you flush embarrassingly red. Katsuki's eyes study your being for a moment, flickering up and down, and up again until he's tapping the side of your thigh twice.
"Sit in my lap, Princess."
He guides you using your wrist and for some reason you allow him to guide you into his lap, grunting as he nestles you on him comfortably as he overlooks the club. You falter upon feeling something...strangely hard. “What’s that?”
“My dick,” Katsuki grunts, almost absentmindedly, and yet the vulgar comment takes you so off guard that it nearly knocks the wind out of you.
“Oh.”
“‘S your fault for gettin’ me all worked up, Princess,” Katsuki’s hands find their way around your waist before they’re guiding your hips into rolling small, smooth circles against him. Katsuki’s back thumps against the back of the booth as he admires the view, groaning behind a bitten lip. “Told ya to sit still and you didn’t listen.”
You suppose that’s valid.
Plus, you’re enjoying the little groans he’s letting out—along with the sharp inhales when your hips dig harder into his.
“How um—how do I help?”
“Just keep sittin’ pretty, Princess,” Katsuki growls, and you nod, allowing him to guide your hips to his will. It’s a lot of movement, and you find yourself shying away from the balcony as he hikes your dress up to your waist—ultimately exposing the entirety of your lower half. Your goosebumps rise.
“What if people see?”
”They won’t. We’re too high up,” Katsuki soothes, rubbing a thumb over your ribcage as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. “And if they’re fuckin’ nosy? Let ‘em see. The sick fuckers will appreciate the show.”
Let them see. You shiver at that.
Katsuki’s running his hot hands all over your body and they make you feel nothing short of sexy, sliding them up the sides of your body until they curve over your breasts, and drop back down to your hips. They move as if they’re mapping out your body, trying to figure out what makes you tick and what makes you crumble, and you sigh along with the satisfying glide.
“Fuck...you have a better body than those girls ever will,” he groans, but you flush at the way he seems to say it more to himself than to you. “Fuckin’ perfect, fuck.”
“T-Thank you,” you flush, unsure if you were supposed to take the praise or not. Katsuki chuckles.
“So fuckin’ cute, too. You’re welcome, Princess.” His hands move from your waist to the sides of your thighs, tapping twice with open palms. “Squat.”
“Squat?” You confirm with furrowed eyebrows. Katsuki grunts and manhandles you to your feet with a sigh. There isn’t a whole lot of space between the booth and the railing, forcing you to fold over the banister with the cool thing pressing into your gut and your arms keep you from falling completely. You shiver from the cool air as his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties, and then you feel something hot kiss your entrance before Katsuki’s guiding you back down using your hips.
You’re full of him, immediately, and you struggle to hide a whimper as he wastes no time in bottoming out.
“O-Oh—“
“Never had somethin’ this big before, huh Princess?” Katsuki’s strained voice is the only evidence that lets you know he’s feeling good, and you’re tightening around him with a nod.
“N-No, definitely not.”
You have to rest your head against the buzzing railing to just breathe through it, to adjust, and Katsuki chuckles at your shuddering chest. He taps a steady rhythm that matches the beat of the music into your side but doesn’t move, and you find a strange comfort in the vibrating club, with the addition of something inside you providing a uniquely comfortable warmth.
"C-Can I—"
"No," Katsuki grunts, placing heavy hands on your hips to ensure you'll stay in place. "Find your fuckin' friend, first. Y'got a good view."
You whimper and nod, resting your forehead against the cool railing. Fuck—he fills you up too well. As you watch people live their lives down below, you rake your eyes through the crowd in search of a purple dress—and you come up empty.
"I-I don't even know if she's here," you defend, chest shuddering. Katsuki chuckles, though it's laced with something heavier.
"Really? 'Cause you were so fuckin’ sure about twenty minutes ago."
Katsuki's hand cracks against your ass—with a sound you're surprised no one heard over the music—and you yelp. "Dirty fuckin' girl, grinding back on my cock. Impatient girls get punished, you know."
You nearly moan behind a bitten lip. You weren't even aware you were moving.
“F-Found her,” you barely croak out, so relaxed your upper body practically drapes off the balcony. Katsuki snorts, leaning forwards so his mouth is flush against the back of your neck—you gasp from the adjustment.
“Prove it.” He grunts breathily, clearly in a similar condition.
“U-Um, the gold stilettos," you barely manage, and Katsuki hisses as you tighten around him to point down into the fray—lo and behold, there she is, in the middle of the goddamn dance floor with some guy you've never seen before. You...suppose you're in a similar situation. A better one.
"Good girl," the ash-blond coos. Shivering, your hips rolling on their own, but this time Katsuki lets them. You don't stop. “Fuckin’ choking my cock, shit.”
His hands get a little shaky and though it’s hard to discern through your own arousal, you take note of how thin his voice sounds, and continue to roll your hips in the way that makes him shiver. Katsuki starts to trail kisses up your neck which turns into a bite of your earlobe, causing you to hiss from the feeling.
“‘S good?” You ask—Katsuki’s chest vibrates against your back.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he huffs, guiding hands sliding down your waist. “Keep goin’.”
Not that you were planning on stopping.
Katsuki’s hands slide between your thighs to rub at your clit. You nearly shout, thighs seizing, and the ash-blond chuckles at your inability to stay quiet as if he wasn’t sliding a free hand up your dress to play with your chest.
“Dirty fuckin’ girl—you aren’t even trying to hide it now, are ya? Moanin’ in the club like a goddamn whore.”
You nearly choke at that, slamming a hand over your lips to muffle the sound. Not that anyone would be able to hear you over the club music, but still. Public decency.
Either way, your reaction has Katsuki chuckling, and he hooks his chin over your shoulder as he says, “You like it when I call you dirty, Princess? You like when I point out how fuckin’ filthy you are for me?”
You nod your head vehemently, now bouncing on Katsuki’s cock with a newfound enthusiasm—and you figure the slap on your ass is a signal to respond.
“Answer me, slut.”
“Y-Yeah, I do,” you whimper, and Katsuki’s hand crawls from your breasts to your neck, cutting off your oxygen supply in the best way. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, nearly gasping as you slur:
“Gonna—gonna cum.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock in the middle of a club, huh?” Katsuki’s chuckle strains from arousal and you’re positive he’s not that far behind. The hand on your clit speeds up and Katsuki curses as you tighten around him, teeth digging into the meat of your shoulder.
“Cum for me, Princess, fuckin’ do it—“
You squeeze around him with a shout before your orgasm comes over you, shoulders shuddering. Katsuki groans out a broken good girl before his hips buck and grip tightens around your waist as he cums, hands guiding your hips to ride both of your orgasms out until they finally come to a still.
You shiver as Katsuki catches his breath in your neck. Eventually, your racing hearts beat in time with the music and bodies cool enough to not feel so slick with sweat, and finally, Katsuki pulls out with a groan. He doesn't remove you from his lap, though.
"You good?"
You nod, fixing your hair in hopes that you'll look more put together than you feel. "Yeah—yeah I'm fine. You?"
Katsuki turns you in his lap to face him (though it does take some awkward clambering due to the limited space). He zips up his fly and you pull down your dress, the next steps about as uncertain as walking in the dark.
"Why're you asking me?"
"I dunno," you shrug, bottom lip poking out in indifference, "Pussy can take a lot out of a guy, I guess."
Katsuki's pale pink lips slide into a lazy smile, and he drops his head with a snort. "I—yeah okay. Sure."
"What?" You giggle, gesturing at his heaving chest before crossing your hands over yours with a huff. "You're out of breath, aren't you? I did all the work."
Katsuki chuckles at your petulance, shaking his head in defeat, "Y'got me there."
He rests his head against the backboard of the booth to give you a look. You can't put your finger on it, but you feel exposed nonetheless, and you struggle not shrink from it. He licks his lips, "You drink, Princess?"
"Depends," you shrug. The ash-blond grins.
"What do you like?"
"Shirley Temples," you giggle, coiling your arms around his neck. Katsuki's hands return to your waist and it's...comfortable. "Why, you wanna buy me one?"
Katsuki makes a face that signifies yes, he does, and you follow his eyes in peering towards the dance floor again. You see your friend exactly where you saw her last, and upon feeling eyes on her, she looks around to find yours. She shoots you a wink—you roll your eyes.
"What about your friend?" Katsuki snorts, lifting an eyebrow. You snort.
"I found her, didn't I?" You wink, standing to your feet to pull him towards the bar. "Now c'mon! Doing all that work made me thirsty."
click to return to CLUB 777.
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Full disclosure this is like half of a draft I wrote about a month ago if it does well I might try to finish it.
sweaty summer smut based off that blurb I posted lmao
Shandi by Kiss, it's quoted in the story.
Eddie Munson x OC
+18 SMUT, WARNINGS below the cut
smut sooooo.... major pussy eating, fingering, Eddies just a FrEaK in da best way. Soft dom Eddie x switch-ish reader, p in v, sickening affection.... that's honestly the worst one for me bahaha..., cussing..... I think that's it. OH and shotgunning bc it's my favorite. hair pulling-ish
Summary: Lovesick couple having sex... teeny weenie plot.
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Anna's POV:
"Shandi, tonight must last us forever, Forever we say good night and go home But you know me very well and I know you You can't tell me" ---" It's fucking hot in here."
"Dammit, my panties were this close to dropping why'd you stop?" I laughed standing up from folding laundry on the floor to open my widows. "You should add Shandi into your next Corroded show, you sing soft rock so fucking well." I sighed dreamily, he chuckled sweeping back his curly bangs from his face and setting his guitar to the side.
"And you wear that dress sooo fucking well." He said as the breeze lifted my skirt to show my thin white cotton panties.
"Edddiiiiie." I blushed, lifting the window and quickly cocooning myself up in the pink polyester curtains. He smiled, to himself seeing the reaction he got out of me.
"Come here butterfly." I hid in the curtains a little longer buzzing from the nickname. I left the pink sash to flow gracefully in the breeze and padded my way across the cool hardwood to stand between his legs. He was quick to rest his chin in the valley between my breasts and grip the back of my thighs. "You really liked it?" He inquired, staring into my soul with his chocolatey eyes.
"I loved it." I said kissing the crown of his head, with my hands resting on his bare shoulders. "you are burning up."
"Why thank you, sweetheart."
"No-" I giggled, he was laughing right back at me, "you are ridiculous."
"Ridiculously in love with you." He drug his hand down the back of my left leg and bent my knee wrapping my thigh around his waist and then my right until I was seated comfortably in his lap. He fell back and rolled over pinning me beneath him, "seriously Annie... I fucking love you." He kissed my chest as I ran my hands through his hair, combing it back with my nails into a ponytail, he moaned when I pulled, making me tremble with laughter under his weight. I took the tie from my wrist and twisted his hair into a bun leaving some strands loose to fall in his face all sexy and disheveled. "Thank you baby." He kissed my lips one more time, standing up abruptly grabbing his guitar and walking across the room to rest it on a stand.
"Seriously... you're really gonna leave me high and dry like that?" I said as he ran his fingers over my cassette tapes, landing on one I couldn't quite make out, before closing it in the stereo and pressing play.
"Relax babe, didn't want to traumatize my baby that's all... besides I forgot, I brought you a gift."
"Let me guess...." I said giving him knowing eyes, sitting up myself.
"Packed nice and tight just for you," he said putting an expertly rolled blunt between his lips, trying to spark it with a zippo.
"I thought it was for me?" I said shoving his side lightly. He took the blunt between his fingers and posed sarcastically,
"Let me be romantic." he wiggled his eyebrows and put it back between his pillowy lips, he lit it on the next inhale. Taking a long drag forcing a shiver down my spine. He took it back between his fingers and gently lifted my chin to meet his lips, he slowly breathed out as I breathed in, plumes of smoke billowing out from between our lips. He bit my bottom lip and pulled back, releasing it as he stood back up. I flopped down dramatically on the mattress, throwing my arms above my head. He took another hit and leaned down to do it again. I've never been confident with french kissing, but Eddie somehow made it easy... like a well-practiced dance. He held my left cheek in one hand and laid the hand with the lit blunt over the edge of the bed. It was soft and slow and warm... so warm...that's when I opened my eyes, a ray of sunlight cast itself over our faces, when he pulled back I could see the honey accents and gold flakes in his eyes... he must have been seeing something similar,
"You're so fucking beautiful."
"You too." He reached above me and snuffed out the blunt on the brick outside my window, resting it on the windowsill.
"How you feeling?" He said smoothing my hair back. I nudged my nose against his,
"Like I need you."
"Good because I'm gonna give you me." he kisses my forehead, "Then I'll give you the world," he pecks both my cheeks, "and every fucking star in the sky." he kisses the tip of my nose, before taking my lips in his again, feverishly. He licked into my mouth and kissed across my jaw and down my neck. He snaked his hand down my torso dipping his pointer and middle finger between my legs. He rubbed softly over my panties, smiling triumphantly at the prominent wet patch he found there. I curled my head into his shoulder whimpering softly, it's been a while since we've been alone together, He halted his movements just letting his fingers rest there as he nudged the side of my face with his, "sensitive?"
"y-yes," I sighed, he kisses the side of my head, speaking softly, continuing his ministrations,
"I'm sorry baby, it's been too long...I won't tease you too much okay?" I nodded, pressing deeper into the crook of his neck. "Lay back and relax, deep breaths." God his affection turns me on... it's like he knows exactly what I need to hear... it's intoxicating. He kneeled between my legs, scrunching up my little sun dress, he leaned down and kissed my already sticky skin. He made his way from the tops of my thighs to my hips and kisses my clit over my panties making me whine, he grinned up at me from below continuing to kiss, lick and nibble his way back up to my face. "Can I take these off?" he asked, holding my hip and rubbing his pinky under the waistband of my soaked panties.
"please."
"Lift your hips for me sweet thing." He hooked his fingers on either side of my waist and pulled them down my thighs, licking his lips at the sight of the fabric sticking to my core. He stuffed them in the back pocket of his black jeans. Lifting my left leg all the way up to rest on his shoulder, holding down the other thigh firmly to make room for his shoulders. He pecked tenderly on the inside of my left knee, and laid down on his stomach, keeping my leg on his shoulder the whole way down. "Don't forget the window's are open."
"Wh-- fuuuck!" I looked down at him in just enough time to watch him lick a long agonizing trail up my center,
"That's why... Don't want all your neighbors to hear you get raptured."
"You are unbelievable," I laughed, kicking him lightly on the back with my heel.
"You taste unbelievable," he said, diving back in take another lick. He caught me off guard again and I fell back into the mattress trying not to scream. After that, he was hypnotized for the longest time, his head would periodically fall on the inside of my thigh and he'd rest his head there as he languidly made out with my clit. I wanted to grab his hair so bad, but it was kind of nice seeing him so undisturbed and pussy drunk, muscular back glistening from the heat.
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lol i left yall hanging ngl but i figured it was a good stopping point for now lmao
#stranger things eddie#eddie munson x oc#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson my beloved#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson st4#stranger things season 4#stranger things
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Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.
I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy
Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU
“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.
He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.
“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”
He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.
He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.
Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.
Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.
Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.
Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.
She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.
Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.
“Excuse me.”
She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.
Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.
“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”
“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.
Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.
Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”
Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”
She let out a little snort of amusement.
“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”
“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”
“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.
“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”
Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”
“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”
“Not yet.” You replied.
“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.
“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”
“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”
You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.
“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”
“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”
Dabi chuckled again.
“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”
Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.
“What’s your brother’s name?”
“Todoroki Shoto.”
“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”
“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”
“Sure.” You shrugged.
Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.
You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?
“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”
The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”
“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”
You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.
“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”
“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”
Dabi laughed before turning back to you.
“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.
“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.
“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”
You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.
“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.
As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”
Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.
“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”
“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”
“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”
“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”
“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”
“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”
“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”
Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.
You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game
Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.
But Dabi was different.
He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.
He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.
The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.
That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.
Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.
Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.
When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.
Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.
And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.
Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.
He scolded himself.
“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.
“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.
“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”
Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.
“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.
You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.
“Boy! Come on.”
Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.
The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.
The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.
Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.
You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.
Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.
Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.
From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’
Pt.2
#dabi x black!reader#dabi x reader#flirting#first dates#bnha fluff#my hero academia#bnha imagines#bnha#bnha scenarios#my hero fanfic#bnha headcanons#dabi scenarios#touya todoroki#mha headcanons#black writers#curvy reader
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BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet
Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.
so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk
anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are
OH NO HE’S CUTE

HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD
“thanks for being all right” the fuck
who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this
how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here
guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready
anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY
LMAOOOOO

listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things
anyways!!

FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw
STOP BEING CUTE

THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES
and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT
OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.

BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE
YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY

I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code

:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you
FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION


but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji
so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you
oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck

actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance
OH MY GOD

NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE
WOW DABI

I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM
LOL NEVERMIND

gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped

(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)
HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE

WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT
btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun
OOF

excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE

ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??
AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???

and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it
are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??

that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!
anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights


I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol
so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...
OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH
Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON

NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”
EXCUSE ME WHAT

interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!
looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now

you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols
anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top
and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way
anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”
omfg. YOU GUYS

DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD
ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM
BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE
IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS
HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO
LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!
so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”
OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD

ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE
AHHHHH

OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH
lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto
-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --

BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC
y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...
°˖✧◝( ̄▿ ̄)◜✧˖°
#bnha 291#dabi#todoroki touya#endeavor#todoroki shouto#best jeanist#hawks#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#you guys know that scene from the end of the lion king#the part where simba is walking up to the top of pride rock#and he lets out that roar as zimmer's score soars to a crescendo#yeah baby#that's the mood rn#welcome back king
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It’s just Remus Lupin! (Part 1)
Sirius gets flustered around Remus Lupin who also happens to be his best friend. His blood races, palms become sweaty, and his articulation becomes poor. He thought that it was how he was supposed to feel as he has spent years battling with these feelings by ignoring them. Until now, because they are growing, gripping every inch of his heart. Sirius is afraid that he might die if he doesn’t understand them. What does Remus has anything to do with all of this? Truth be told; Everything!
“Something is seriously wrong with you.” James leaned down to his left, almost brushing his head on Sirius’ shoulder, and whispered his suspicious voice. “You’ve been acting all weird, Padfoot-“
“Mr Potter! No hissing or mumbling!” Professor Flitwick squeaked indignantly at him, and then buried his tiny head in bundles of parchment, scribbling furiously.
“You think you’re gonna pass that test, do you?” Sirius spoke in a casual tone, avoiding James’ question, as he eyed at Professor who was marking their Charms’ first test of their fifth year.
However, James did the same as Sirius did. He completely ignored his question, in fact pursing his lips to show his gesture of crossness. When there was no answer, or any kind of response, Sirius turned his head to his right to see James, who was not looking at him at all, neither side glancing.
Sirius suddenly felt a pang of hurt on his chest to see his best friend looking upset, then suddenly an unpleasant feeling hit him in the stomach when his grey eyes subconsciously landed on a certain boy walking from the Professor’s table.
He had his test parchment seized in his hands and a sweet smile of achievement lingered on his beautifully scarred face. Sirius couldn’t take his longing gaze off him as the boy kept walking until he sat down beside him. Sirius jerked out the invisible haze that had surrounded his senses.
“I’m not gonna brag about it but... look who got full marks on test who didn’t even studied for it!”
That was Remus Lupin, also known as Moony, fellow marauder, a soft werewolf dorm mate and most importantly the Marauders’ best friend. Though, his smile suddenly vanished as he saw Sirius being awfully so quiet while James acting his ‘sculpture pose’.
“Hey? What’s wrong?” He asked as his amber eyes bored into Sirius.
Sirius was sweating as the nervousness began to crawl under his skins. Those amber eyes has been doing things to him from a very long time, things he hadn’t even expected to feel. He knew that this was something beyond their strong friendship, but to recognize it required a wholesome amount of courage which seemed impossible in this situation. The stakes were too high!
In the meantime, he thought that he had to answer that awaited look of Remus because James was already fuming with heavy silent treatment. It is just Remus Lupin! Talk to him like a normal person, you git!
“Uh...I’m-I mean nothing...nothing’s wrong.” He stammered as he was doing his best to not look at Remus.
“Why you two look like as though you’ve eaten a bug or something? So quiet. That’s so unlike you!” Remus’ lips curled into a small grin that didn’t fail to melt Sirius’ insides. Suddenly, he felt too exposed because he could feel the heat on his neck rising to his cheeks, his palms becoming damp. It’s just Remus bloody Lupin!
He abruptly stood up from his seat, completely ignoring his friends’ gaping mouths, and waddled his way to the Professor’s table.
“Professor, I feel sick...I really need to go the bathroom.”
Professor looked up and yes, he sure was looking funny in the face that it took only a quick glance for the teacher to nod vigorously. When Sirius turned to make his way to the door, Professor called him out, “Mr. Black, kindly accompany someone with you. You can barely walk straight.”
That was true and Sirius realized that his limbs was clearly denying the nonchalance he was trying to bring in his body. His eyes casted to James and Remus who were just as shocked and worried as any sincere friend could be. He saw that James had almost stood up to accompany him but Remus was wrenching him down by his wrist and mumbled, “You stay, I’ll take him.”
Oh Great. Remus Fucking Lupin.
Sirius thought he was going to throw up any sooner, and strangely there was a part in him yelling that he didn’t want to throw up in front of Remus.
“Come on. Take my arm and I’ll walk you so you won’t fall.” Sirius could swore that he had heard the usual sarcasm in Remus’ voice, his velvety voice cooing the way that made Sirius feel home, and he couldn’t help but slip his hand into Remus’ arm and gripped it tightly. But also, he was scared if he was blushing too much-
“Great Scott! You’re scarlet!” Remus exclaimed.
There you go. Great. How many more embarrassing moments awaits me with Remus?
Remus had dragged him to the bathroom that Sirius’ dazedness couldn’t manage to realize it until the other boy blurted out what he was thinking, “This must be serious. Come on I’ll take you to the hospital wing.”
Sirius let out a mocking laugh at him and Remus stared him with confused expressions. How could he be not red in the face when he was holding Remus Lupin’s arm? Though he couldn’t name such feelings yet but that didn’t mean he hadn’t made his peace with them. He knew that these electric waves raced through him whenever that certain boy touched him, or came a little closer. These feelings were not new, but strong. Very!
“What?” Remus’ voice was almost a whisper.
“N-nothing...nothing.” Sirius was breathing out a voiceless laugh, however his chest ached.
Remus came closer to him and accordingly Sirius stepped backward. Remus glanced at him a too long with an unreadable expression, scanning him like an X-ray. He narrowed his gaze and, again, stepped closer--his face resembled the look those muggle actors wore when they play the role of detective-- and Sirius waddled backwards once again, until he couldn’t as his back had been pressed to the wall of the room. A gasp escaped out of his mouth, and Sirius felt overheated beneath his cheeks.
“What are you doing?” He managed to murmur.
“I don’t know. You tell me?” Remus said in a way that almost shivered Sirius from head to toe.
“How am I supposed to tell that?”
“Suppose you can tell me what am I doing, right?”
Sirius’ body was trying too hard to gain control.
“You’re advancing towards me. Why?”
Remus chuckled, and it suddenly made him look like a sexy villain. He was barely an inch away from touching Sirius’ chest.
“To search those grey eyes. To find my answers in it.” Remus’ face loosened his look that had almost murdered Sirius. “What is going on with you? Tell me, Sirius. Anything.”
Remus’ eyes were pleading and desperate, which was something Sirius could not afford. He finally stared in those amber eyes, hoping not to get lost in them.
“Anything?” Sirius whispered and he saw Remus reaching out for his face and he slipped his palm to hold his jaw, using his thumb to brush off a tear that had trickled down his cheek. Sirius hadn’t realized that he was crying before he shuddered under Remus’ soft touch.
“Of course, Pads.” Remus’ voice was soothing for him. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
Sirius thought things over in few seconds:
What am I supposed to tell you? That your presence does things to me that I can’t figure out myself. Or that I am suddenly becoming concerned and possessive for you at the same time. And ‘why’ is the question! Am I head over heels in love with you? No! You don’t feel the same way! But that doesn’t matter because you are my friend! But do you feel the same way? But how could you? You are not me! You are not weird or stupid like me. You are smart, clever, sweet and funny...and gorgeous...and... Just perfect...
“Sirius?” Remus’ voice yanked him back.
“Wha-Oh yeah...You know what, Nevermind.” Sirius moved towards the sink to wash his face, but Ramus blocked his way.
“No!” He bellowed and Sirius jumped in horror. “I’m not leaving you like this. And you sure as hell are not leaving without an explanation, Black.” Sirius could see the indignation fuming out of Remus, which was calm and thundering at the same time that Sirius thought he was soon going to see smoke coming out of his ears.
“What do you want me to say?” Sirius spoke his voice of despair.
“This!” Remus said, loudly. “Tell me why did you not answer me? Why isn’t there any shine in your eyes? Tell me why did you suddenly become sick? You never hides things from me!”
He was scolding Sirius but in a way that was only gushing affection in his heart for him. Remus sighed and then, he reached out for Sirius’ hand. Sirius shivered slightly, fucking again. Dammit Remus!
“Sirius, what’s bothering you?” Remus asked again.
Sirius suddenly surprised, not only Remus, but himself as he laced his fingers with Remus’ and did the same with his other hand, while his head dangled low that his black hair were dripping into those glistening grey eyes. Remus didn’t act surprised and instead, he tightened his grip. Sirius’ heart was thumping so hard and all he wanted was to not to move any farther. This moment was tensed but it felt beautiful to him. His heart told him to never let go of the boy he was holding as if his life depended on him.
Sirius finally spoke, “Remus, I can’t tell you this right now. I don’t feel...I-I...just...don’t want to lose you.”
The words were out of his mouth and before he could regret for saying them, Remus slipped out his hands out of Sirius’ grasp the second after, Sirius felt as if his heart had stopped working until those hands reached to envelope Sirius in a warm embrace. His heart immediately became so relaxed as if it had found his home. He buried his head in his chest, both of them fitting perfectly into each other’s embrace like missing pieces were put together at their right place, and now he wished for the time to stop here so that he could stay like this forever in Remus’ arms. He was so lost in the scent of Remus which was like sniffing parchments, coffee and soft flowers at the same time. The scent was so soft and yet strong to make him feel dizzy.
“You will never lose me, Padfoot, you understand? I’ll always be with you. Forever. This is my promise to you.” Remus leaned his head down to Sirius’ ear to whisper his cooing breath. Sirius made a humming sound and closed his eyes, relishing the very moment.
----------------------------------------------------
The night had befallen and Sirius was sitting in the common room with his friends; James was scribbling on his parchment and he seemed fine to Sirius even after the Charms’ class, while Peter was also writing in his parchment but also he kept peeking into James’ essay. Remus was sitting in the armchair, so sunk in his reading a muggle romance novel.
However, Sirius-once a light of the group- was abnormally quiet and was gazing at the fireplace. His back was resting against the armchair’s paddles, sitting on the carpeted floor as he continued to stare at the fire. He was reminiscing his day that had turned beyond beautiful when he was soaked into Remus’ arms. He missed him, even when Remus was sitting behind him. He missed the moment, the scent and especially the tingling sensation caused by Remus’ touch that he could never describe in words. He was so lost in the memory before James and Peter startled him.
“I’m up for bed. McGonagall had me all tired and aching.” James yawned.
“Me too,” Peter said.
“Why? What happened?” Sirius asked, ignoring Remus like he wasn’t even there.
“Detention. Snivellus tried to hex Peter but I fought in his defense before McGonagall gave us three detention.” James spoke and yawned again.
“Oh.” Sirius was not amused. James eyed him a meaningful look. Sirius’ brows furrowed at him. James waved his hand, mouthing ‘are you okay?’ but Sirius had understood him. He smiled and nodded in assurance. James returned the smile before turning on his heels to the dormitory with Peter.
Sirius and Remus were left alone in the common room. Sirius was trying nothing but his best to act normal in the presence of Remus. However, Remus reading a book was equivalent to Remus not being in the room, so Sirius stayed. He subconsciously sighed and let his head fall on the paddle of the armchair on which Remus was seating.
It was so blissfully quiet as if the common room was having a goodnight sleep, breathing crackling fire from the grates. Sirius closed his eyes, trying to walk past his feelings that seemed to have no plans of leaving him. Sirius had always been a rowdy and rebellious lad and now these unanticipated sentiments were making him otherwise.
And then, out of nowhere, fingertips slid into his hair, reaching the top of Sirius’ head that had almost made him jump before those fingers had carded his hair, scratching his scalp back and forth. This was unusually satisfying.
“Thought you might use a head massage to put those thoughts aside." Remus spoke his soothing voice. Sirius was feeling the electric waves surging within his whole body. His lips curled up in a sly smile and turned to face Remus who was looking at him plainly that was somehow extremely endearing.
“It’s working.” Sirius answered.
“Well, I’m glad I could help.” Remus’ fingers were still running in that silky jet-black hair, his face looking serious. “But...Just so you know I’m mad at you. Sorry, I forgot to act like being one.”
“What? Why?” Sirius grinned a surprised smile. Remus opened his book and started reading, ignoring his opened mouth. “Why are you mad at me, Moony?”
“Because you didn’t tell me what’s been bothering you.” Remus was acting to read, side glancing at Sirius, whose smile had immediately vanished. Sirius felt a lump formed in his throat but he tried gulping his fear down.
“I have a hunch though.” Remus murmured within the pages. Sirius snapped his head up and sprang up on his knees to snatch away the book that had been pressed to Remus’ face.
“Give me that!” Remus hissed, biting back a smile.
“You know how annoying it is to talk to you and the book at the same time?” Sirius spoke sarcastically.
“Yeah, but I don’t allow people to do that.”
“Yeah but I’m not just people, huh?” Sirius didn’t realize what he had said until he distinctly saw Remus turning pink, or maybe it was the fire that reflected on his gorgeous face.
“Yeah...I guess...” He said, looking anywhere but at Sirius.
Sirius sighed and stared at him with courage after seeing Remus’ timid expressions as if it had helped him gain a certain power over him now.
“Yeah? So what are your hunches?” Sirius asked.
“Why should I tell when you don’t?”
Sirius had his eyes fixed on his attractive friend, travelling to his hands that were gripping the armrest.
How would it feel like being held by those firm hands? How would it be like to be pulled close by them so that I could breathe Remus in, and drink the sight of him? Beautiful. The word is beautiful for Remus Lupin. He is so, so beautiful! Why doesn’t he see it? Why doesn’t he know that with those scars on his face, the twinkle in his honey colored eyes whenever he smiles, the dimples in his cheeks whenever he blushes, those dumfounded expressions whenever he would wake up after his transformation and then he’d dreamily smile with his eyes closed once he was sure that I would stay behind when James and Peter had gone for their morning classes, are the things that makes him so beautiful?
It all made Sirius cry, and in the meantime, he was trying his best to hold his tears back because he couldn’t say all of those things to Remus. They were going give him a good scare once told. And what exactly? He himself didn’t know. As matter of fact, he did but the real questions were: Was Sirius ready to embrace his heart that was screaming to be freed? Was he ready to give them the name of love? Was he going to give in to this restraining ability after all these years, and risk it all? Was he going tell Remus Lupin that he was—so helplessly—falling in love with him? So helpless that he didn’t know if he could keep it in him much longer.
Remus looked at him, bemused.
“Are you okay?” He asked in a very delicate voice, almost a whisper.
“Im-I’m fine...I just...” He raised his gaze to see Remus who stood before him, looking extremely concerned. Those amber eyes were comforting and so much filled with awe and warmth. He wanted to stare at them and get lost in them forever. He desperately craved Remus’ touch.
And with his classic trait of recklessness, he slammed his body against Remus, holding him tightly. Remus immediately hugged him back just as tight.
Fuck you, Remus Lupin! This is your fault that I’m falling in love with you!
He clutched Remus’ sweatshirt and shut his eyes tightly, weeping into his shoulder. When he was not pulling apart, Remus wrapped his arms more earnestly around Sirius’ body.
“Hey, hey, you have to say what you feel. Don't let your emotions have that power over you, Sirius. Say it. Say whatever is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, Padfoot. Please, Padfoot, it’s hurting me to see you like this. Please say something. I’ll help you. I promise, I promise.”
Sirius could practically sense the panic rising in Remus’ voice. He thought that if his heart kept hammering hard in his chest it was going to burst out.
“No...No… How? I can’t, Moony…”
“Yes, you can, Sirius. You can tell me anything. It’s just me.” Remus reappeared from his arms, cupping his wet cheek.
“Yes! Because it’s you!” Sirius shouted as he ripped out of Remus’ embrace. However, Remus caught him by the wrist. Sirius was instantly regretting what he had said. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t see the distressed look flickered on Remus’ face. Even so, He pulled Sirius towards him, and walked him to the couch and they both sat there, keeping their respectful distance.
“That's it, you’re doing great.” Remus whispered, “Now, tell me? Have I upset you? Did I do something wrong?”
Sirius shook his head, and the other boy sighed. “Then why can’t you tell me?”
“Because I don’t know it myself, Moony.” Sirius finally choked out some words, which was enough for him to keep going. “But I am so, so scared. I never felt like this before. I hate this, being this! Vulnerable, wet faced, sensitive, fuck! I hate this feeling.”
“What are you feeling?” Remus asked.
“It’s more like I don’t want to feel those feelings…I don’t know if I make any sense. I’d rather want to believe that it must’ve been Snivellus who had jinxed my emotions so that I could become Mr. Sensitive.”
“You mean you are scared of those feelings might be something you never thought you’d face?” Remus murmured, and Sirius thought that somebody had knocked out air from his lungs, and of course, Remus was not looking at him. He was gazing into the fire. His face wore that despondent expression which meant that he was mentally reliving a painful memory.
“Yeah…” Sirius’ voice came out almost inaudible, but Remus met his gaze and smiled weakly.
How could I deny him begging like this, few inches away from my face? I would do anything for him. This is it. I don’t care about what comes next. Even if I have to live in my house for the rest of my life, I don’t care. For Remus.
Sirius was gazing at those amber eyes—deeper than any ocean could be.
“I-I think...I’m falling in love with you, Moony.”
Sirius was completely numb and he was senselessly staring at Remus, without blinking, whose eyes slightly widened and lips parted, gaping at him. The sight was too painful moment to see.
“Sirius...” Remus cleared his throat, “I don’t know what to say...Are you…”
Gay? I don’t know. Stupid? Yes, if I’ll still have you. In your right mind? Love has nothing to do with mind.
“…sure?” Remus finished.
And then the tiny star of hope exploded. The world collapsing, shallow breathing, heart crashing and insides crumbling.
Remus reached out for the other’s hand that had turned white but Sirius flinched away.
“Sirius...” His voice was painfully sweet, barely audible.
It’s okay. No surprises, besides, it’s just Remus Lupin. Just the boy I love.
“Sirius, listen to me.”
But Sirius was already up, walking back to the dormitory. He couldn’t say anything that moment but he stopped to say what his broken heart was whimpering, like a mantra. You promised you’d help.
“You promised…” It came out as a choked sob.
And then he was in his dorm where James was pacing, and he had stop the second after Sirius had shut the door. He had a look of plea on his face but Sirius couldn’t handle more...but then there it was in James’ hands. The Black sealing.
He snatched the letter from James’ grasp and went to his bed, shutting his curtains. He didn’t need comfort. All he wanted was himself; the old destructively eccentric boy who was not only the best prankster but an excellent Quidditch player. He opened the letter and read it. Oh great! Another foul letter in return of the three detentions in a row by Slughorn and Mcgonacall.
What a perfect timing! He was apparently in love with his best friend, and he had completely destroyed the friendship between him and Remus.
A Black never deserves true happiness, or true love because there is nothing true about that name.
He crumbled the parchment and tossed it on the floor. Fucking bigoted family! He laid on his bed and casted a silencing charm so that he could cry his heart out. He never cried over a nasty letter. He wanted to cry because of Remus Lupin, who knew that a Black was incapable of loving.
Part 2.
#wolfstar#wolfstar fanfiction#wolfstar angst#wolfstar fluff#don't worry it will end well#hp marauders#love confessions#Sirius Black#Remus Lupin#remus x sirius#sirius x remus#moony x padfoot#all too well#taylor swift
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CHAPTER ONE
Don’t forget to call me when you make it there safe!”
My mom yelled out at me as I scrambled to the door in a rush. A bag was on my shoulder full of hidden alcohol I had wrapped inside of towels, along with some snacks. I was currently on the way to see the pogues, unknowing to my mother who thought I was visiting the Cameron’s with baked goods.
I had lived in the Outerbanks for only a few weeks and the slang I had accumulated from hanging around the island still felt alien to me. My mother was a Interior Designer for one of the biggest home renovating shows in America, so moving around was nothing out of the ordinary for me. We had traveled from California to Ohio and my mothers next big project was none other then the North Carolina coast.
I had only met few people in my time on the island. On the second night of my stay I was greeted by a blonde girl who I soon placed as Sarah Cameron. The resident princess of the island; at least thats what I picked up on from listening to the Pogues. She was kind to me, it was a short exchange at the market. She recognized me as someone who wasn’t local and told me to text her if I ever needed help finding my way around the Outerbanks. We exchanged numbers and she left in a car of others in a rush.
Bringing me to my very first group of people I met on the island. My new house was in a place called Figure 8 and my next door neighbor was Kiera Carrera. One day while I was moving boxes into my house, I looked back and saw a Kiera on her porch she was in some sort of argument with her parents. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but their voices were anything but quiet. She was in a fight with her parents as she made her way down the steps. They shouted words that I didn’t understand at the time like “pogues” and “kooks” and “midsummars”.
All I knew was that I had been through what she had and I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. Although it was none of my business, I waited for her parents to go inside as I placed the box of antiques down and made my way to the curb she sat on. I spoke to her about my parents divorce and I told her that it was okay to feel the way she was feeling. Our exchange led to her inviting me to her friend John Bs house. I don’t know why they added the B in John but I didn’t bother to ask. I met John B, and two other guys at his house. It gave me a close feel to a cabin with a tropic twist if that makes sense. John B was genuine, he told me stories of his father and welcomed me into his home with his arms open. On the other hand JJ was skeptical at first taking a minute to warm up to me because of the place where my home resided. He explained to me how the Kooks were selfish, rich people and the Pogues were the ones always ready for a good time on the island. He was fairly good looking but I shook away that thought because I could feel tension between him and Kiera. He then offered me a drink and told a few jokes that made me ugly laugh. Pope was the last boy I was acquainted with, he struck me as intelligent and determined. He seemed more worried of what I thought of them, telling JJ to calm down at times and asking Kiera questions about me. Overall the group and I had a good time and I left a good enough impression to be invited back.
Which leads me back to where I was headed. Kie invited me to a giant get together, they called it a Kegger which was just a party in Pogue language. I hopped inside my car and made my way to the beach, looking for a spot that others hadn’t found out about yet and parking. Shutting my car door and hitting the locks, I slung my backpack around me and followed the crowd. Which would’ve been the only way I knew where I was going if it wasn’t for the massive bonfire that was radiating smoke. I walked down to the secluded area and around the corner of a building saw hundreds and hundreds of people.
this has to be half of the town.
Quickly my anxiety began to creep up inside of me. As strange as it sounded because I moved all the time, I was very nervous around new people. Taking my shoes off of my newly tanned feet I stepped into the sand. I searched the beach squinting looking for the familiar faces of John B or Kiera but I was out of luck. I excused my way through strangers hoping I would run into one of the four Pogues. Digging my fingers into my hands and tugging at my backpack, I began to grow impatient.
Suddenly interrupting me from my intruding thoughts was a warm substance seeping down my white top. My eyes were met with a tall boy, who’s shoulders were broad and hair was slicked back. He held a bottle of beer in his hand as his blue eyes were set on my top.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!”
I blurted out, it was my fault he had spilt his drink after all. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going causing me to ram into the guy.
“I should be the one apologizing, here come with me my sister probably has a extra shirt.”
He then proceeded to grabbing my hand and pulling me through the crowd of guests.
This guy was really hot if I had to admit, his collared polo complimented his body and his hands were filled with veins. Not to mention he had on a ring, A RING! I normally didn’t try to involve myself with boys because of how much I moved around. Having to leave the last boyfriend I had behind was gut wrenching, but… I could make an exception. It had been forever since I had been with any guy and I was craving something a little more than holding hands.
As we pushed past the final few people we stopped around and empty area. The boy looked off into the distance at a girl on top of some sort of wooden post and a blonde guy struggling to get her to come down. In fact, I knew that girl. It was-
“Sarah! Come here!”
I was startled by the loud outburst beside me. Sarah was his sister… That must’ve meant he was Rafe. Dammit.
flashback
“Every Kook is BAD, now repeat after me”
JJ had a very strong opinion about the richer class, I wonder what the reason was. What about Sarah Cameron, she seemed sweet.
“I met this girl named Sarah the other day, she was actually really welcoming.”
“Sarah CAMERON?”
Kiera blurted in sort of a grimace. She didn’t seem to be too fond of her.
“Sarah Cameron is the epitome of a snobby, entitled little brat. She always gets whatever she wants and doesn’t care about anyone other then herself.”
Kiera seemed to share a popular opinion amongst the Pogues based on their reaction to her outburst. They all nodded their heads in unison.
“Don’t even get me started on her brother Rafe! He is even worse, he treats the Pogues like shit and gets away with it every single time because he goes crying to his daddy.”
Her opinions on the two struck me as cruel. I didn’t know the two so clearly I couldn’t just defend them but, I didn’t like the way the Pogues spoke so poorly of the Kooks. It seemed wrong. Especially because when I met Sarah she was anything but a “brat”.
“Just don’t get involved with them. For your own good.”
JJ said, I could tell he was amused with making fun of the Cameron siblings. John B looked at my face and could tell something was off.
“Alright, Alright, I think you guys are started to scare the girl. Let’s go check out the waves.”
end of flashback
Sarah jumped off the pole without any regrets swinging around in what I assumed to be her boyfriends arms and making her way over to the two of us.
“Yes Rafe. What is so important that-“
Her gaze met mine.
“Alexis!”
She pulled me in for a hug quickly, my nose whiffing the smell of alcohol on her. Or on me.
“Hey Sarah”
“What happened!”
She exclaimed looking down at my shirt that was stuck to my skin.
“It was an accident,”
Rafe butted in.
“Rafe.”
She drug out in anger.
“We haven’t even met the girl for more than a second and you already have spilt your drink on her. Typical.”
I looked over at Rafe in pity for a split second but then I remembered this was a sibling thing to do. It was normal for brothers and sisters to argue, I didn’t know much about it because I was an only child.
“Shut up Sarah”
“It was my fault honestly, I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”
I nervously broke the tension. They both looked at me for a split second and then the silence was stopped by Sarah taking her shirt off. I was surprised by the Cameron girls boldness.
“Chill out girl, I’ve got a swimsuit and from the looks of it you don’t plus since Rafe did this too you he can kindly take you to his car so you can change.”
Sarah tossed me the top and ran for the water waving a goodbye with a warm smile. She was gorgeous, and she made me feel good. The Pogues seemed closed minded, and my views on things were beginning to shift since they were no where in sight, even though they said they were going to meet me here. Adding onto my perspective was the fact that Sarah and Rafe were there.
“She’s a handful. I’m Rafe by the way, which you probably gathered.”
His eyes were a little red, he must have been smoking. His voice seemed a little droopy but it was still sexy. My feet followed the direction of his as I held the shirt in my hand.
“Nice to meet you, Rafe. I’m Alexis.”
My voice was a bit shaky but confident. I liked to sound confident when I met others even though I wasn’t. We shortly arrived at his jeep, and he unlocked the doors.
“Can I put this bag down somewhere?”
I said picking the heavy weight off of my shoulder.
“Yeah, here let me see it.”
I rubbed my sore skin as he grabbed the bag and sat it in the trunk.
“Beer in the towels, huh?”
I looked back at him.
“Hey, who said you could be nosy?”
I playfully smiled at him.
“No one, but I was just curious what you were carrying around, I mean for all I know it could’ve been drugs.”
“You probably would’ve been happier with that outcome, huh?”
He laughed. His laugh. Holy shit his laugh. It was so hot.
“Can you grab me a drink?, I need one”
I asked desperately.
“If I can snatch one too then deal”
I nodded at his remark and hopped inside of his car grabbing the drink from his hand. I sat the drink in a cup holder as I took my soaked shirt off. I sat it to the side and then looked at my bra.
“Shit”
It was soaked too, I took it off as well praying it wasn’t getting any colder tonight as I slipped on the yellow tank top Sarah gave me.
I grabbed my drink, took a swig and opened the car door. I looked out and Rafe was already crushing his can sitting on the hood of the car.
“Want another?”
I offered reaching in my bag and extending my hand. He turned his head and looked at me for a few seconds. My hand waiting for release from the beverage but it never came. Then I realized why as I looked down at my shirt. You could see through. Before I looked back up he grabbed the drink clearly as embarrassed as I was.
“Yeah uh sorry”
His hand scratching the back of his neck as he opened the can. I brushed off the exchange and got up on the hood of his car with him looking at the party from afar taking another sip.
“So, you’re new ay?”
Rafe said.
“Yeah, I just moved here a couple of weeks ago.”
He wasn’t making eye contact with me and neither was I. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. The scenery was calm. The stars looked perfect and the sound of the faded party and waves were in perfect harmony.
“Who invited you here?”
“Just some people I met, they told me they would meet me but didn’t follow through.”
“Screw them. You should come hang out with us.”
His invite made me feel warm. I looked over at him taking a sip of the drink, I watched as it gilded down his throat. His adam’s apple bobbing. He was a masterpiece. I must’ve been looking a little too long because he whipped his head around at me. I quickly averted my gaze away embarrassed.
“Yeah I will definitely take you up on that offer, I can’t stand unreliable people.”
We were close. His hand smoothed it way to my knee. Yes please.
“Neither can I, good thing we are reliable. Even got you a new shirt.”
He stared back down as he made this statement clearly looking at my boobs. Quite frankly I was flattered.
“Eyes are up here buddy boy”
I cringed at my own words but being a couple of drinks in at this point I didn’t care.
“I know”
He said. His hand slid a little further up my leg placing on my thigh. Higher. and higher.
“You have a boyfriend?”
He asked, I laughed at this. Hard. My laugh was one of those laughs that sounded so stupid other people would laugh at it. So as I kept laughing he began to laugh as well.
“w-what”
His high was probably making my laugh sound even more strange then it already was.
“Nothing just that question is funny.”
BOOM
Both of us flinched as we looked away from eachother. That was a gun shot. I frantically got up.
“What the fuck, we need to get out of here”
Rafe yelled. I looked at him in a panic.
“What about Sarah!”
I shouted back.
“We will grab her in the car, now get in.”
The Pogues were still down there. I looked at Rafe as he sat in the car and looked down at all the people running away from the scene. I had to make a decision quickly.
The Kooks or The Pogues

#fanfic#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#obx#jj maybank#kiera carrera#television#chapter one#john b x sarah#jj x kie#writing#rafe x reader#imagines#reader insert
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Summary: Forced to be sociable by his so called friends, Laxus finds himself attending a five week cooking class. An insulting and stupid idea, and one he resents them for doing. He would have thrown it in their faces, if it weren’t for the smug prick teaching the class, with his handsome face, delectable body, and annoyingly enticing way of keeping Laxus on his toes. [Fraxus One Shot]
Notes: Hi. I wrote this on my phone while sitting on the beach, so who knows how it’ll turn out. But it’s got them both being cocky, both being flirty, and both being in love, so what else could you want. Hope you all enjoy it.
Links: FFN, Ao3
Set To Boil
Or: 4 Times Freed taught Laxus a recipe, & 1 time Laxus returned the favour
Week One - Pizza
"Laxus, you need to get out more."
"Laxus, there's no reason for you not to give it a try."
"Laxus, you're an antisocial brat and you need to get out more."
Fuck them all. Fuck Evergreen for her haughty sense of self belief. Fuck Bickslow for having no tact and being and coming up with good points. Fuck Makarov in particular, for being a rude old coot who threatened to change the damn lock. And when Laxus found out which of the interfering bastards had been the one to come up with this stupid idea, then fuck them too.
It was ridiculous. Yes, perhaps Laxus had become somewhat insular as of late. Maybe his friends had been putting in more effort than him as of late, but it was important. He was newly hired in his sports journalism career, and he needed to focus on his writing.
What he did not need was a five week cooking course!
Why the hell did cooking courses even exist anymore? If you wanted to learn to cook, there was this brilliant new invention called a computer. They had hundreds of step by step recipes, none of which required Laxus to trudge through a damn rec-centre at eight at night!
Seriously, fuck them all.
He was late, too. The bus had missed his stop, and as such he was now ten damn minutes late. He was half-tempted to leave the rec-centre before he found his classroom - Ever, Bicks and Makarov wouldn't find out if he didn't use the damn voucher, after all - but then he would have to spend the next five weeks thinking of ways to pass the time every Thursday night. He really needed to move out of Makarov's damn apartment; the old bastard apparently had nothing better to do than to keep tabs on him. Bastard.
He was in front of the classroom door before he knew it, and he faulted. Dammit, why had he agreed to do this? Why couldn't the bus have gotten him there on time? Why was he nervous about this?
No; he was a grown man dammit. Fuck his nerves,
With false confidence, he walked into the classroom. Eight benches, all with sinks, ovens, cooktops, an array of cutlery and equipment, and a basket of ingredients filled the space. Five people stood behind some of the benches, and Laxus somewhat guilty slinked towards the nearest bench, at the back of the classroom.
"Mr Dreyar, I presume," A voice, deliciously smooth with underlying authority, made Laxus pause.
He looked up to see a man standing at the front of the room, behind a larger and more professional looking cooking worktop, and Laxus paused. If you were to encapsulate all of Laxus' ideal qualities in a man, his new teacher was apparently as close a person could come. Tall, obviously with some muscle, tight and sharp facial features, a little pale, and with long hair. He wore a button up shirt that hugged his form, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off a near-indecent amount of his forearms. He was quirking his eyebrow towards Laxus, and he felt ensnared by the expression.
Dammit, of course. Almost every other cooking class in the country would inevitable be taught by a homely housewife or a tedious Ramsay wannabe, but not his. He gets a stud with veiny forearms, high cheekbones, and narrowed eyes that made Laxus shiver.
He couldn't justify it, but Laxus was inclined to blame his grandfather for that.
"There's a bench up here, if you'd like to take it," The teacher said, motioning towards one of the cooking stations at the front of the room. Laxus cringed; even in school, he'd been one of the kids who sat at the back. That wasn't a habit he was ready to lose.
"I'd rather stay here, if it's all the same to you," Laxus mumbled, annoyed at himself for not speaking clearly. There was something about teachers that just… what did you call someone who intimidated you but also kind of excited you at the same time?
God, this was going to be awful.
"And I prefer it if my students arrived to my lessons on time," The teacher smirked a little, and Laxus almost stuttered in search of a reply. "And, as tends to happen with a student who shows up late on the first day, you'll likely act out further. As such, I want you close by so I can keep you on the straight and narrow," He tapped his finger on the surface twice. "This counter, please."
Though only a few steps, the walk to the counter at the front of the room was humiliating, it served to make the asshole teacher appear less hot, if nothing else. Because Laxus definitely did not like a man who knew how to be firm with him.
This was going to be hell, wasn't it?
At his assigned counter, Laxus felt a little lost. Nestled in the ingredients was a recipie - they were making pizza, apparently - and Laxus slightly found himself floundering. The cooking lessons weren't just to make him more sociable; he had no idea how to cook.
The teacher, who was looking at him from behind his work surface, sighed and approached Laxus. In his hand, he held a chopping board with what appeared to be a large mound of dough. He placed it before Laxus, who drowned down at it.
"Normally I would have taught you how to make dough yourself, but my plan's require the full hour," The teacher said, as if that was an explanation. "Rather than you lagging behind and not getting the whole experience, you should start from the same point everyone else is at. So put yourself to work and start to kneed this. It'll require a few more minutes to get to the right consistency."
Laxus looked down at the dough, grinding his teeth. Kneeding was rubbing it, right? And occasionally you punch it? That didn't sound right.
"Like this," The teacher said, pulling the chopping board towards him. He started to kneed the dough - it wasn't what Laxus thought it was - and the attraction came back with a sudden force. God dammit, why did his sleeves have to hug his biceps like that? That just wasn't fair.
The dough was pushed towards him again, and Laxus rolled up his sleeves and started to emulate what the teacher had done. The teacher didn't leave, and Laxus squirmed a little under, and found himself speaking to fill the silence.
"I ain't gonna learn, y'know," His mouth said before his brain could intercept. "Don't give a shit about cooking."
That a'boy Laxus. Turn up late, fail at a basic thing, and insult the guy's career. Real classy.
"You will." The teacher said, as if it were undeniable.
"I will?" Laxus scoffed.
"You will," The teacher repeated, smirking, "Once you realise what a good home cooked meal taste like, you'll be desperate to learn what else you can do."
"You seem awfully confident about that…" He drifted off; he didn't even know the damn guys name,
"Freed," The teacher supplied. "And I am confident. You'll love cooking by the end of it. I'm sure."
"You talk a big game," Laxus chuckled a little. He almost forgot he was kneeding the dough, but Freed looked down at his hands and grinned a little, which got Laxus to pause. Just because he was kneeding dough it didn't mean he cared; it was basically a workout. That was all, and Freed needed to know that. "If you're that sure, then I'm gonna insist you eat everything I make, no matter how shitty it turns out to be."
"So long as you don't sabotage yourself on purpose, I can agree to that."
Well, Laxus had slightly wanted to make Freed eat combinations of food that tasted like crap, but this could work. Laxus really was that bad of a cook, Freed might not be able to know the difference.
"Deal," Laxus nodded, offering Freed a hand to shake. The chef did so immediately, with a firm squeeze and… oh damn, those veins!
——
Week Two - Curry
Laxus had been right. Even putting in the effort and following the recipie as best he could, he was still a shitty cook. Unless, of course, a curry was meant to be accompanied by a waft of dark, burning smoke when you opened up the oven. Laxus coughed a little as he removed the dish from the oven, placing it on the counter top while shutting the oven door with his foot,
Freed was storming over immediately, flapping at the smoke with a dish towel and immediately turnoff the extractor fan on to suck up the smoke before it reached the detector. He had previously been working with a pink haired bastard, who was snickering at Laxus' failure. Asshole.
"What on earth did you do to it?" Freed demanded, more confused than angry.
"I followed her recipe," Laxus retorted indignantly. "Can't blame me."
"Everyone else has the same recipe and they've managed fine," Freed muttered under his breath. "Explain to me what happened."
Laxus bit down the instinct to tell Freed to choke on something, patronising ass that he was. He had made a deal with Freed the week prior that he would do what he could to make the most of the lessons, and he would enjoy knowing how to make a few meals, so admitting his mistakes was something that he would have to do. Even if it was to a smug, ego-centred teacher who Laxus could definitely take in a fight without breaking a sweat,
Maybe he should suggest some boxing lessons. Laxus had given up pro fighting the year before, but kept it up for fun. If Freed was acting like Laxus was stupid for not knowing the basics of cooking, Laxus would act like Freed was stupid when he didn't understand how to box.
Fantasising about punching Freed in the stomach - which was no doubt toned and sexy as hell - made talking through the process easier. Freed wore a slight frown, apparently not seeing anything wrong with what he had done. Laxus was about to boast that he was right, and that it was Freed's instructions that had gotten the burned pile of mush that filled the room with smoke, but Freed's expression turned to one of understanding when he looked at the oven,
"These work on Celsius, you set it as though you were using Fahrenheit," Freed explained. "You essentially nuked it."
Fuck. God-fucking-dammit!
He could have dealt with it if he was unable to do some cooking thing he'd never had to use before. But this? Misreading a piece of paper and setting the wrong temperature on the damn oven, how the hell had he managed to do that? It was humiliating! He was a grown ass adult, a retired sportsman who was forging a career to be respected. But an oven had made him look like an idiot who couldn't do anything for himself. Fucking brilliant.
With clenched fists, he rested against the workbench and leant on it with closed eyes. This was why he didn't do shit like this; he needed to keep in his lane and do what he was good at. Not cook, not have this weird hate-boner for his teacher. None of this.
"How soon after the class do you need to leave?" Freed asked, cutting through Laxus' spiralling thoughts. He frowned, but answered.
"Don't have any plans after."
"If we start again, we can have you finished ten minutes after class. That way it won't be an act of futility," Freed said, and rolled his damn sleeves up again. Thankfully he was moving around the counter, turning the oven down and fiddling with appliances fast enough to stop Laxus' eyes from lingering. "I can teach you how to spice things to your own tastes, as well. Normally that's next week, but I can advance you for your troubles."
"Advance me?" Laxus frowned. "Kinda need to be good at the basics first."
"You are, everything you said was correct. You made a small mistake that I should have noticed," Freed shrugged, walking to the counter he taught from and taking a box of ingredients to place on Laxus' desk. "I thought you'd learn better left to your own devices, and while I expect that was true, I shouldn't have left you alone. That was my mistake and as such, I'll amend it. We'll make a curry suited towards your tastes."
This was an olive branch, Laxus was sure of it. Freed had apparently noticed Laxus' shift of mood, and took the blame for Laxus' mistake. He was thankful of it, but it was still embarrassing.
Thankfully, a way of saving face had presented itself.
"I don't know if I can believe ya," He said with a small, somewhat forced smirk. "I mean, you don't have a record for keeping promises, do ya?"
"Don't I?"
"You told me you'd eat some of everything I made," Laxus shrugged, looking towards his pot of 'curry' that lay stagnant in the pot. It was grey, somehow. Food shouldn't be grey. "That was a lie."
Freed sighed, but didn't back down. He pulled a dessert spoon from one of the drawers, carefully scooped up some of the ruined mush and brought it towards his lips; damn they were pretty. He openly winced at the smell, swallowing preemptively as it got closer to his mouth. He glanced towards Laxus for a split second, who was watching him with crossed arms expectantly, and let out a resigned sigh. He opened his mouth, took in the spoon, then ate.
First he gagged, then he coughed, then he struggled to swallow. Even though Laxus had worked hard, and a small part of him thought Freed was exaggerating, he laughed at the reaction. Freed was fighting to keep the burned, disgusting food down. Once completely swallowed, he turned to Laxus with a wince.
"Delicious," He lied, trying to hide how thoroughly unhappy he was.
"If that's the case, there's plenty more," Laxus smirked, and Freed actually winced. That, of course, spurred Laxus on further. This was more fun than cooking. "Eat up, I don't mind."
Freed seemed to think for a moment, before standing up straight, rolling his back, and doing something Laxus never would have expected. He pulled out a plate and a ladle, scooped a portion large enough to fill two fully grown adults would struggle to finish no matter what the taste, and placed it on the countertop as if it was something to be proud of.
"A deal," Freed proposed. "I want to teach you one on one for the rest of the session. No distractions, no changing the subject, simply me telling you how to cook. Essentially, until you've cooked something successfully, I want your full attention."
Laxus nearly scoffed, Freed already had that. Instead, he said: "What's my 'delicious' curry got to do with that."
"If you make an attempt to distract me, to get out of lessons in some way, or continue with the mindset that this course is not suited to you, then for the rest of your time learning under me, you'll stay after class and clean everyone's dishes until I'm satisfied with the result."
Laxus winced a little. "And if I don't do any of that."
"I'll eat all of this," He motioned to the plate of ruined food. "And you may watch me do it."
Thinking for a moment, Laxus grinned. "Your funeral," He then glances at the food and winced. "Possibly literally."
Freed waved off the comment, stood beside Laxus with his new range of ingredients, and began explaining the basics of how to get a flavour you desired from your ingredients. On instinct Laxus wanted to taunt the man, suggesting the best way to get a flavour was with a take-out menu, but he managed to stop himself before the words slipped out. Mainly it was to avoid four weeks of dish washing, but also because he hasn't seen Freed like this. He was passionate when he spoke about cooking, and Laxus didn't want to ruin that.
And when Freed's arm slid against Laxus' as they moved, somehow at the same moment Freed looked at him with a genuine smile, Laxus felt shivers roll over him. This was… there were worse ways to spend a Thursday evening.
——
Week Three - Chicken Soup
"Y'know, if you're gonna make such a big deal about-" Laxus cut himself off. Holy shit.
He had been ready to blast into Freed about puntuality. Laxus had gotten to the class on time, only to see that Freed was not there. Eight minutes into the lesson, the door had opened, and Laxus was fully intending to lambast Freed about how much of a big deal it was when Laxus was late, and yet Freed was just as bad. He only stopped when he saw the state Freed was in. Because dammit, the man was drenched to the bone.
What the hell had happened to him? Sure it was raining, but Laxus knew he had a car, and surely the walk from the parking lot to the building hadn't been that bad. He looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a lake and lost.
"Everyone to your work stations please," Freed instructed, removing his coat as he walked to the front of the class. "I apologise for being late, but it shouldn't be too much of an imposition if we all focus."
Laxus was focusing. Focusing on the fact Freed's white shirt was clinging to his chest, showing off strong pecs and the taunting glimpse of a six-pack. It was a temp tight sight, and far too indecent for a classroom setting.
He shook his thoughts away. He needed to focus, because last week's lesson had proved a lot of things. One: Freed was willing to eat a whole plate full of disgusting food to prove a point, which wasn't relevant but Laxus still thought funny to think about him gagging and going green. Two: Freed was actually a damn good teacher, he just apparently hadn't know what Laxus needed from him until the latter half of the class. Three: Laxus actually could cook, if taught well. Because the second curry he'd made was indescribable, and it had tasted just as good when Laxus had cooked it two nights prior.
So, the lessons were actually working, and Laxus decided he was going to fully allow himself to be a student. Groping the teacher with his eyes wasn't going to help that, so Laxus remained quiet and let Freed explain the lesson.
To learn how to flavour things correct, they would all be making a series of different soups throughout the hour. Five basic recipes has been placed on their workspaces, and an entire array of spices, ingredients and flavourings had been scattered through the room. The point of the exercise was to follow the recipes, but also put other ingredients into their soups while doing it so that they can experiment with flavours. It was pretty smart, and Laxus felt like he had an advantage given Freed's impromptu lesson with spices the week before.
Once Freed stopped talking, they began cooking, and Laxus felt oddly confident in himself.
About ten minutes into the exercise, Freed made his way to Laxus' workstation. Wordlessly, he picked up a plastic ladle and scooped out a small amount of the soup Laxus had cooking. Laxus watched with only a small amount of anticipation as Freed brought the soup to his lips and swallowed it, and didn't focus on the flipping of his stomach as Freed smiled at him.
"It's very good," he praised, and Laxus did not preen at the words.
"Thanks," He muttered instead. "Any advice?"
Freed smiled a little at the request, placing the ladle in the small sink. "I'd use sea salt from now on, it'll bring out the flavour of the chicken more. But your instincts have served you well, it works very well together."
"Oh, thanks," Laxus mumbled awkwardly, and Freed didn't help by leaning over the table to look at Laxus' recipe, bring their faces far too close. Thank god the heat of the room has fixed the slight transparency of Freed's shirt, because knowing about the body below the clothes was tempting enough with him this close. If he could see the man's body, he might explode.
"You've put everything you've added onto this, haven't you?" Freed asked, tapping the recipe that had Laxus notes covering it. Laxus nodded weakly. "Then, if you can recreate it as it is now,I then it's time to experiment. Pick something at random to add and see what it tastes like. If it's bad, remake what you've already done."
"Anything huh?" Laxus quirked a brow. "You know you have to eat it, right? You wanna give me this much freedom after last week?"
"So long as you choose your ingredients thinking it will taste good, I'll uphold my agreement," Freed shrugged. "Though I must admit, I'd prefer not to spend the night with stomach cramps and a bucket beside my bed again, if avoidable."
Laxus barked out a laugh. "Kinda thought I'd killed ya when you didn't show up on time. What happened?"
"My car's broken down," Freed explained, looking over the herbs Laxus had added. "It took longer to get here than I expected."
"You walked in this?" Laxus glanced towards the heavy rainfall beating down on the windows.
"Indeed," Freed nodded. "Not my smartest decision."
Laxus winced a little at a roll of thunder exploded outside, apparently trying to make sure Freed knew just how stupid his decision had been. Freed didn't seem too bothered by it, though, and instead walked towards the old woman who worked behind Laxus, tasting her version of tomato soup and giving her advice on how to give it an extra kick.
The rest of the lesson continued on like that. Freed would work his way around the room, helping where he could. Laxus experimented on his soup, finding parmasean to be the missing ingredient.
Freed actually licked his damn lips after trying that. Did he know what he was doing to Laxus?
Once the lesson was over, the storm still lighting up the sky, Laxus walked to the door of the rec-centre. Freed was lingering there, wrapped up in a large red coat and clearly not looking forward to his walk home. Laxus understood that; the rain was so hard it probably would hurt to be under it.
"I'll drive ya home," Laxus said, his tone not leaving room to argue.
"What?" Freed asked. "No, that's not-"
"Didn't give you a choice, did I?" Laxus crossed his arms.
"You intend to kidnap me?" Freed joked.
"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "If you walk out in that, you're gonna get sick for no reason other than your own stubbornness. If that happens, the. Eat I can do for you is give you the recipe for this," he patted the container of chicken soup he held, "but I kinda think driving you might make more sense."
Freed considerd before speaking. "I insist on paying for gas, at least."
"Course you will, I ain't a cheap date."
The words came before Laxus could stop himself, and a flush of worry spread through him. Freed simply laughed, murmured a teasing "I expect not," and walked towards the door. He held it open for Laxus to walk through, and with a small grin, Laxus did so, with Freed by his side.
When the rain hit them, Laxus didn't care, and it certainly didn't diminish the silly smile that he hoped Freed couldn't see.
——
Week Four - Meringues
"What are you looking at, Laxus?"
Freed seemed amused as he spoke, and he walked towards Laxus' working area. Laxus had been trying to catch his teacher's eye for around a minute, with probably a stupid little grin on his face. He couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed about being caught out.
The drive home with Freed has been a long one - thirty minutes in the car; how long would it have been if he'd walked! - and they'd talked throughout. Laxus had learned that, until recently, Freed had been a professional chef for the TV show 'Sabertooth Chefs', a cooking competition watched by millions. He was off camera, making the meals that the celebrity judges claimed they had cooked to use as an example for their contestants. Apparently he quit because of a lack of passion.
That, and apparently Rufus Lore - the judge he cooked for - was obnoxious and could barely bake a loaf of bread if left on his own.
Laxus spoke about his own life. How he'd felt obligated to quit his pro-boxing career after a nasty head wound that resulted in his scar. How he was now a freelance writer who did sports analysis for some of the sports magazines and websites. Freed had seemed impressed, and claimed he'd watch out for his work.
They were closer now, and as such Laxus felt comfortable joking with him.
"I've got a question," he said when Freed was close. "You said you'd taste everything I cook, right? Well, for food, tasting something means you're experiencing it, right?"
"I suppose," Freed agreed, though seemed to know he was walking into a trap.
"Well, with meringues, you showed us that trick, right," Laxus smirked. "Where if you've made it correctly, you can turn the bowl over and the mixture won't fall out."
"Yes," Freed was wary now.
"Well, you also said for the best experience," he put emphasis on the word, "then you tip it up over your head. If you've done it right, it stays in the bowl. If you ain't, it covers ya."
"I did say that," Freed muttered.
"Well, if you're gonna experience everything I make, surely you should do it." He smirked; and pushed the bowel of mixture towards him.
Freed looked down, resignedly.
Then he perked up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a coin. He flipped it with flair and caught it, covering it before either of them could see the result.
"Heads or tails?" He requested, and Laxus chuckled.
"Heads."
Freed removed his hand, and Laxus let out a cry of triumph. He nudged the bowel towards Freed, grinning wide and ridiculous as Freed openly sighed. Laxus crossed his arms to hurry the man up, and it seemed to work.
With quick, resigned movements, Freed lifted the bowel. The thick white mixture jiggled slightly, and Freed turned it upside down above his head before he could stop himself.
And… it stayed in place.
For a moment, Freed seemed to be wincing in anticipation, before a look of triumph flooded onto his face. He turned the bowel back over and placed it on the counter.
"Kinda anticlimactic," Laxus said, picking up a spoon.
"But it means you did it correctly," Freed smiled. "You can take solace in that."
"Guess so," Laxus nodded. "Or I could do this."
With neither showmanship nor hesitation, Laxus used the spoon so scoop a dollop of the mixture up and flicked it towards Freed's face. For a moment, all Freed could do was blink, and Laxus burst into stifled laughter.
It had splattered over his lips, nose, and left cheek. Equal parts ridiculous and oddly attractive.
"Mister Dreyar," Freed spoke calmly, but he was trying to hide a smile. "I will be seeing you after class."
He turned away. Laxus snickered.
Although it was tempting to be a dick for the rest of the lesson, Laxus behaved himself. This was the only lesson that they did on desserts, and Laxus wanted to learn. That, and he felt Freed wasn't going to take his little prank lying down, so he probably shouldn't piss him off further.
When everyone else was gone, and Laxus was left alone with Freed, there was a moment of quiet. He motioned for Laxus to approach the desk. Laxus did so.
He was hit in the face by a spurt of ketchup.
It continued, splattering across his face. He gasped, and Freed apparently aimed for his mouth at the moment. It was a stupid moment, not helped by the noise the bottle was making, and eventually the spray died out.
Neither man spoke for a moment.
They both started laughing at the same time, and Freed handed Laxus a napkin to clean himself with.
"You're an asshole, you know that right?" Laxus said with mirth in his voice. "You still got the balls to want a ride from me again?"
"Is the offer still available?" Freed chuckled.
"Sure, just as long as you don't mind me getting some glue and those decorative feather things from a store on the way back," Laxus smirked. "There's a smug asshole who needs to be tarred and fathered."
"Perhaps I'll get the bus," Freed grinned, then frowned a little. Perhaps without thinking, he reached up and stroked Laxus' cheek to rid it of a remaking fleck of sauce.
They both halted, frozen for a moment, and Laxus' mind was set alight. In that moment he knew one thing for sure; he couldn't let Freed go.
——
Week Five - Solyanka
"That will be all for our time together," Freed said, standing at the front of the class. "I hope you all enjoyed your time together, and that you've all learned something. At the risk of promoting myself, I have other courses available that last longer and offer more flexibility with what you'll cook, if you want to further your culinary pursuits. If not, then it was a pleasure working with you all, and I wish you well in your endeavours."
It was weird seeing Freed using his teaching voice; the things he said weren't Freed-like. It was kind of funny.
Laxus hung back when the rest of the class funnelled out. Some of them spoke to Freed before leaving, orbits just left, but Laxus decided to hang back and wait. As he did, he pulled out a small plastic tub from a bag he'd brought with him, waiting for Freed to take note. Once everyone was gone, Freed saw him still standing at the end of his cooking surface.
"Laxus," He said, and he seemed pleased Laxus was still there. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, just wasn't ready to leave yet," Laxus passed it off as a joke, but the stopped himself. "I, Erm, well, there's this recipe my family's been making for years. Generations, actually. Just wanted to know what you think."
"You want me to critique a family recipe?" Freed frowned.
No. No he didn't. He wanted to share something with Freed that was important to Freed. It was ridiculous to think, but this old Russian dish was something he had loved for his life, and he wanted Freed to love it too. It seemed stupid now he was thinking about it, but they only really had food in common right now, and Laxus felt like it was his turn to add something to the conversation.
"It's called Solyanka," Laxus said instead of answering the question. "It's a soup. For sausages, olives, cabbage. A lot of things, really."
Laxus didn't say anything else, and picked out a pot from the cupboards to place on the stove. He emptied the contents of the container into the pot and stated to bear it up.
"It tastes better when it's not been reheated but-"
"It smells beautiful," Freed said, cutting through Laxus' backtracking. "And I'm sure it will taste just as good."
"Thanks," Laxus mumbled a little.
As they waited for the soup to heat, there was a comfortable quiet between them both. Freed seemed engrossed in the cooking - the growing scent, the occasional stirring - and it gave Laxus the chance to watch him. He had known Freed was hot from the moment he'd seen him, but he was also fucking beautiful. His hair was pulled out and flowing over his shoulders, and his expression was calm and relaxed.
Laxus was glad he had done this, suddenly. He would have regretted it. This couldn't be the end of his relationship with Freed; it just couldn't.
He went to speak, but Freed went first.
"I think it's time to take it off the heat," He said gently, as if wanting to avoid offending Laxus by telling him how to cook his meal. Laxus quickly removed the pot from the heat.
With now familiar movements, Laxus pulled out two bowls and poured them both a portion. Laxus sat on one of the stools, waiting a little nervously as he saw Freed spoon some of the soup up and take it into his mouth.
"Wow," Freed whispered. "It's incredible."
Pride bloomed inside Laxus, and he didn't tamper it down. This piece of Laxus had pleased Freed. It had made Freed smile such a brilliant smile that it was like a shot to the heart. He was speechless, and Freed spoke again.
"You're incredible, Laxus," he said with equal sincerity.
"What?" Laxus frowned slightly.
"You're incredible, Laxus," Freed repeated, smiling now. "You've made these five weeks remarkably fun for me, and I'm sad to see you go."
"I'm sad to be going," Laxus mumbled, unused to speaking honestly about these kinds of things. "These have been… the best part of my week."
"Mine too," Freed admitted, and the words sent lighting throughout him.
There had been a small part of Laxus that had thought it had been in his head. He felt like he and Freed had been steadily growing closer and closer, in a way that couldn't exactly be called platonic. It felt like this was the moment where a choice had to be made. Laxus could either hide from his feelings, as he had often done in his life, or he could take the dive. Just like he'd done when he had quit his job. Just like he'd done when he'd come to the class in the first place. Just like he should have been doing all his life.
Freed was going to speak, but the urge to act overtook Laxus and he moved before it could dwindle. He launched himself toward, took Freed by the back of the neck, and kissed him.
It wasn't perfect, but the imperfection made it better.
The feeling of the desk jutting into his hip might have been a bother, but it was nothing compared the the brilliance of soft lips moving against his own.
The lingering spice on Freed's tongue could have been a distraction, but it only added to the searing sensation flying through him.
The scent of Laxus' Solyanka might have drawn focus, but instead it nudged with Freed's cologne and created a beautiful feeling of mingled familiarity and uniqueness.
This was the type of kiss that was unforgettable.
Freed's hand was grazing the back of Laxus' neck, scratching at the usually untouched skin in a way Laxus was tempted to put at. He smiled a dopey smile, leaning further into the kiss.
When they pulled apart, breathless and smiling, they couldn't look away from each other.
"Don't know how this works with a chef," Laxus began in a whisper. "Don't wanna offend your sense of pride, but d'you maybe wanna get a bite to eat some place?"
For a stagnant second, that felt like an eternity to Laxus, Freed didn't say anything.
"I'd love that," Freed nodded a little, though his head still rested against Laxus'. "So long as you don't mind me critiquing everything?"
The joke was trumped by the honesty in his voice. Freed really wanted it!
"I can deal with that."
They shared a quiet, private smile. One that promised excitement, passion, and if Laxus allowed himself to be optimistic, perhaps a future as well.
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Let Me Touch You Pt 6 | Feysand
High school AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7
The next time Rhys and Feyre were alone was when they had all and gotten back to Mor's place, only for Mor to suddenly remember she was supposed to be in tutoring at the library today and had to leg it back to the school.
Rhys had started making more of a point to walk home with them. He used to make a beeline straight out of his last class and beat them home, but now he hung back on the days Feyre studied with Mor. At first, Mor had looked at him weirdly, and he had asked Feyre if she minded. She shook her head, blushed, and tried very hard to be cool about it in front of Mor.
Now they were left standing in the doorway, Mor's dust still settling, and Feyre didn't know what to do. Without a third person, the electric hum settled itself back over them. Feyre rubbed her arms as it crackled over her skin.
"Well, I guess I'll just go home then," she said lamely. "Don't," Rhys said. "I'm your friend too, you know." You are? Out loud, she said, "Okay," and put her bag down in its usual spot. Rhys put his hands in his pockets.
"Did Mor ever give you a tour of this place?" he asked her. "No, but I imagine it'd take a week." Rhys laughed. "Nearly. Do you want me to show you around?" Actually, Feyre did want to see the rest of the house. She had pretty much only been in the foyer, kitchen, and Mor's room.
So Rhys walked her around- up the spiral staircase, down long corridors, into plush sitting rooms that had such rich colours Feyre's fingers itched for paint. And then into his bedroom.
Feyre stared around the room. She thought maybe it'd be dark like his wardrobe, sparse and monochromatic. But it was so warm in here. The walls were a creamy colour, and the curtains were pulled back so that late afternoon sun poured in. Rhys' bed was in the corner, with soft looking, dove-grey sheets. He had a big wooden desk with a laptop on the close edge, the rest of it scattered with paper and coloured pencils. On the far wall leaned an acoustic guitar. And dotted through the room, on shelf edges and table corners and hanging on the arm of a lamp, were little clay sculptures.
Feyre tried not to smile at them, but they were so funny. Little alien creatures, faeries, fantastic animals with pointed ears and bat wings. Some had been brightly painted, but most were glazed simply in a light eggshell colour. She loved them.
"So... yeah, this is me," Rhys said. He stood with one hand in the pocket of his jeans, and the other on the back of his neck. The contrast of this serious, black-clad trouble maker with his whimsical, funny room made Feyre laugh out loud. She clamped her hand over her mouth as soon as it escaped.
"What?" Rhys asked, uncertain now. "Nothing," Feyre said. "I just... didn't expect your room to look like this." "What were you expecting, metal posters and weed smoke?" "Well... yeah, kinda." Now Rhys grinned. "Okay, okay, I'm still cool. Come on, I'll prove it to you."
He led her then back downstairs, through the house and into the garage. He flicked on the lights, and gestured for Feyre to walk through. With Mor's parents gone, it was mostly empty, save for a dusty, old looking, black and silver motorcyle. Feyre’s jaw dropped.
"Is that yours?" she asked. "It was my mother's, I'm fixing it up." "Woah," Feyre said. "Your mom must have been so cool." "You know, I was going for you thinking that I'm cool but yes, she was super cool." Feyre stepped forward to get a closer look.
"Can you ride it?" "Yeah, it runs okay." Feyre had to admit. This was pretty freaking cool.
"Do you want go for a ride with me?" Rhys asked. Feyre balked. "What like... right now?" Rhys grinned. "Sure." And dammit Feyre really, really wanted to. What eighteen year old girl didn't, right?
xxxxxxxxx
Rhys couldn't believe it had worked. He was for sure hoping that the motorcycle angle would earn him some points, but he didn't expect to be here, zipping her into his spare jacket.
And fuck if she didn't look drop-dead sexy wearing it. Rhys had to take a deep breath to stop his fingers shaking as he pulled the zip up her body.
You're putting her in clothes, not taking them off her, he reminded himself. Still, between her looking adorable in the oversized leather, and the clothes being his that she was now wearing, the effect was... destabilising. Rhys handed her a helmet and gloves, too, and then hauled on his own gear before stepping over the bike.
"Okay," he instructed. "See those pegs there? Those are for your feet. Yep, that's it. And you'll have to hold onto me, and and try let yourself lean with the turns and not away from them. Does that make sense?"
He looked back and Feyre nodded, then slipped her arms around his waist. A broad grin spread over his face at the thought of her little body curled around his, and when she shuffled closer, he was half delirious. He gunned the engine.
In the end, it was all over way too fast. They went for a ride through the town and into the city, then looped back to the house to pick up her bags before he dropped her home. Feyre stepped off the bike, took the helmet off and if the image of her shaking out her gorgeous, pear-scented hair hadn't stopped his heart, the adrenaline-flushed smile as bright as daylight that was painted all over her face would have done it.
He packed away the jacket, helmet and gloves as she removed them, and before she went through her front gate she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek that had him in absolute ribbons. That strange, heaviness in the air that she always brought lifted as she walked away, but now it just made him feel untethered.
Rhys watched her walk into the house, then turned around and rode home. The whole time, his mind replayed the squeeze of her arms around him and the press of her chest against his back through the leather, and by the time he got home he was going out of his fucking mind. He walked straight past a mid-sentence Mor, into his bedroom, and locked the door.
****
Alright alright that's enough of this fluffy filler shit we about to escalate. I don't know about this chapter but the next one is my favourite.
TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @teddytdr @thebonecarver
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Head Detective
Flip Zimmerman x Reader
3k ; N S F W (Come as lube, come sharing, chest-fucking, multiple orgasms, slight mention of blood)
Also available on Ao3
Alphabet Series: Aftercare & Body Part
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You can feel it, the excited tension in the air when you arrive home after the ceremony. A shiny new medal is pinned to Flip’s jacket, an award for an incredible job done this past year, an incredible job being him. He was feeling good, had been riding that high with a subtle smirk on his handsome face the whole way back home, one hand wedged between your thighs in as he drove the mountain roads.
Without saying anything, you take his hand and lead him up to the bedroom, coats and shoes forgotten at the foot of the stairs as you toss a smile over your shoulder. He’s got a cigarette between his teeth -- because when doesn’t he? -- and he looks so sexy following you that you almost ask to get fucked right there, right there on the stairs.
But no, tonight is about Flip, about his accomplishments, about his wants.
Successfully up the stairs, he leans against the wall, watching, waiting for something, waiting for you. You look at one another in the bedroom, simply breathing together. He lets out a great big exhale of smoke, plumes of it through his nostrils that curl lazily around his smirk. He knows what he wants, and he’s been so good, so good for you always, you’re going to give it to him.
You’ve been together so long, you know, almost like you can read his mind, and you hum ever so slightly as your hands smooth up the sides of your stomach, span over your chest.
His eyes snap to the movement, and he swallows hard, stubs the cigarette out in the little ashtray you bought him a decade ago. He chews on his lip for a moment, and his voice is so deep, so handsome and husky and low when he finally says,
“Take off your shirt.”
With a grin your blouse goes up over your head.
Like a moth to a flame, he’s drawn to them, your tits. Obsessed, maybe. They’re certainly his favorite body part of yours, always have been. He loves the way they fill his hands when he cups them, loves how they feel against his palms. He crosses the bedroom in three long strides, the exact amount of time it takes for the blouse to fall to the floor.
The lace of your bra is ticklish under his fingers, but even through the fabric there’s the warmth of your body. He wants to feel it, wants to feel you, bare skin to bare skin. You don’t wear lingerie often, it only ever gets torn away after all. Flip liked to look at it, but he didn’t like to touch it.
No, he only liked to touch you.
“Let me?” Flip asks, his eyes so big and brown as they look at you. You raise your eyebrows, allowing him permission to be in control for the evening. He wets his lips and this time when he speaks again it’s not a question, “Let me.”
You smile, pleased that he’s willing to take charge, pleased that the ego of his is only fueled by your presence. You unclasp the little hooks at the back of your bra, let it fall to the floor along with the blouse. Your breasts don’t even have a chance to hang naturally, before his hands are grabbing at them, kneading them, groping.
He wastes little time, pushing you to the bed. With his hands on your tits, you yank down your bottoms, go to pull down your panties.
“No, leave them on.” He uses his Voice, the one that’s commanding, the one he learned in the Marines, the one that has your cunt squeezing, has you so wet for him.
You frown a little, at the notion though. He’s always so eager to fuck your pussy, always jumps at the chance. Maybe he will later, you don’t know.
The night is still young, there’s still time.
He’s fixated on them, on your tits, and you sigh out a smile as you settle into the mattress, soft satin sheets slinking and sliding around your body. He follows you, moves when you move, a pair of magnets. His gaze is hard and his jaw is set, but you can see the twinkle in his eye as he licks his lips, as he rubs his thumbs across your nipples soft soft soft.
“Like what you see?” You whisper when they perk up, stiffen beneath his calloused fingers.
“Yeah ketsl, yeah.” He breathes a shaky breath, he’s too excited, already getting wound up. He’s still fully dressed and you know that’s gotta bother him, you know that’s gotta irritate him. But he doesn’t dare pull away from your chest, instead he glues himself to you, gets closer, grasps your breasts tighter as he sighs, “Fuck you’re perfect, look at these, look how they fit in my hands.”
“All for you, touch me, taste me.” Your hand comes up to scratch into his scalp, fingers twisting into his feathered hair that you had sprayed into place not a few hours earlier, as you guide his head down.
“Oh jesus.” He groans, shoving your body up the mattress some more so he can get level with your tits.
He buries his face into your cleavage, kisses the flesh of your breasts as he holds them in his trembling palms. They’re sweaty, and you grin, because you love when he gets like this around you – trembling with need, desperate for you.
Your thighs rub together as you grow wet in your panties, as your pussy begins to flutter, wishing he would touch you there. You’ll ask him to soon, wanting him to get his fill of you first. He deserves this, he’d done such a good job on the case, such a good job at work – head detective! He deserved whatever he wants.
You’re spoiled, but you can wait, he’ll make you come in time.
“Baby,” He peppers kisses across your breasts, noses underneath them, clamps his teeth down hard against your ribs. “I could fucking live here, I could die here.”
You only moan and press him closer to you. His hands slide around to hug your back as he sucks a mouthful of your nipple, laves his tongue over it, tugs it between his teeth gently. You sigh into the touch, the hazy buzz of pleasure starting to get you worked up. Your hips press up underneath him, seeking friction, seeking the hard rigid line of his dick.
Flip is breathing hard against your tits, leaving all kinds of marks. His hips are starting to rut against your leg, and he pulls away with a long groan as he grinds his cock in his nice pleated trousers.
“I’m – can I – ” He whines into your cleavage and you laugh brightly because you love him so much, even when he has you he’s still so good, so polite.
“Yes, please Flip, please.” You arch your back for him, and he moves quickly.
His hands are all over you, all over himself. He yanks the buttons of his clothing off, steps out of his pants. He’s in nothing but his socks and the sight makes you beam up at him, because dammit you love your husband to pieces, love him as he strokes his big cock in his hand.
He licks his lips and climbs back on the bed, climbs up up up your body until the head of his dick slides through your cleavage. He groans loudly as you smack his thigh in encouragement, marveling at how he’s made entirely of muscle, watching as he flexes his body for you.
“Fuck, ugnh,” Flip pants, and you smack him again as his hips begin to thrust, trying to seek purchase, friction between your breasts. “Push them together – yeah just like that ketsl.”
He moans loud then, his cock disappearing between your breasts. You’re sweating just from the sheer stifling suffocation of his body on yours, his thighs bracketing your ribs as his hips work work work. But the sweat isn’t enough, the pre-come with smears into your cleavage isn’t enough, and he’s spitting down onto your chest to give more lubrication.
The spit helps, and soon Flip’s nearly doubling over, one hand gripping the headboard tight, the other fisting your hair as he chases his pleasure.
“Does it feel good?” You gasp, hands on the sides of your breasts to keep them in place, knees squeezing together as your pussy drools in your panties, doing your best to hand on, “Fucking my tits?”
“Baby, babybabybaby yes.” Flip groans, looking up to the ceiling with his eyes clamped shut.
You tip your head back, stretch your body so that you go taut, so that as he fucks you he doesn’t jab the head of his cock into your throat. He’s grunting now, and it’s such a marvel to watch him grow red and sweat-slick, a marvel to see how all the muscles in his chest arms thighs flex. He’s covered in speckles and spots, and they blur as he moves fast fast fast.
He shifts himself, moves you, manhandles you with baseball mitts for palms, tries to get a better angle as his cock weeps, a steady stream of pearly white dribbling down his shaft only to get whisked away by the flesh he’s fucking.
“I’m gonna come.” He pants, grunts and groans. It’s the first orgasm of the night, he’s too wound up, he’s too excited still. You know there’s more to come, hell, he’ll probably still be hard after this, probably will still be riled for you.
“Come all over my tits, come on me, paint me with it.” You nod, letting him, letting him do whatever he wants.
You want to be fucked so badly, but you’ve got to wait your turn. That’s okay, it’s okay because his hips are stuttering to a stop and thick ropes of hot come splash up onto your neck, your chin. Some splatters even make it to the corner of your mouth, but most of it slides down onto the tops of your breasts. You’re some great Pollock painting, lying on the bed beneath him.
He lets out a long and low shaky moan, come still oozing out of him. The muscles in his stomach tense, and you’re pleased to know you were right. His cock bobs in front of your face, rock hard still.
You give it a random lick, long and hot up the shaft for good measure, and Flip moans so handsomely.
“Make me come.” That moan did it to you, that was the last straw for you, you simply had to get fucked and you had to get fucked now. His cock was still hard, he was still coming, he could come inside you like he loves to do. But you wanted to come too, so your hands begin to smear the come around around around your breasts, begin to rub it into your skin as you whine, “Phil please make me come.”
He tears your panties in two, the poor thing. Little scrap of fabric that he literally rips apart, brings up to his nose to take a deep whiff. Another rope of come paints your stomach, and he groans, sucks the scrap of cotton into his mouth, tasting you, moaning.
With half a brain you think to yourself, if there were one thing he loved more than your tits, it really was your pussy.
“I’ve got you honey, I’m here.” Flip assures you as he manhandles you once again, pushing and pulling you so that he can slide into you so easy.
Your eyes roll back and your legs wrap around his hips as he shoves his still hard cock all the way into your cunt in an easy go. You’re so wet that it makes such a sucking squelching smacking sound when he pulls out, as if your pussy didn’t want him to go anywhere.
“I’m so fucking close I’m gonna scream.” Your hands grab at him, nails clawing into his back, scrambling to get as close to him as possible. You moan, high and loud with little ah—ah—oh!s that have your throat clicking, sparks dancing up your spine.
“If you’re going to scream it better by my fucking name.” Flip grunts heavy in your ear, pants, presses himself flush to your front, all of his come sticking the two of you together.
You don’t mind, you’d love that, love for you to never be apart, love for you to always be stuck like this. Your body shudders underneath his as he drags his cock in and out of you fast fast fast.
There’s not much else to do aside from hold on, aside from cry on his cock. He punches moans out of you, and if you had the brain you’d wonder how he has enough stamina for it. But he does, and he does, and your body convulses when he collects come from your tits and uses it as lube to rub and press on your clit.
“Flip!” You nearly sit up from the pleasure of it all, your eyes flying open before pinching shut again, because it’s too much, it’s so much, your body’s on fire as he fucks you, “Oh shit, Flip!”
“Louder.” He demands, and your muscles burn now with the effort to keep shaking, orgasm ripping through you.
“Philip!” You scream, chest heaving, nipples rigid and stiff, throat dry but mouth watering, drooling all over yourself as you come and come and come, “Fuck – oh fuck!”
He comes with you, though it’s weaker this time. He’s exhausted, oversensitive, but still somehow you can feel the hot spread of it moving through you. He collapses on top of you, face landing in the sticky spot between your breasts where now they can finally rest naturally, can finally relax.
But even still, even as the two of you try and catch your breath as your vision goes spotty, as you moan and grunt and cry against each other, even then Flip’s nose nuzzles your nipple.
“Phil, honey.” You whisper, whine, and he cranes his neck to meet you for a kiss.
You wonder if he’ll pass out right away, sated and warm. His skin is flushed, and he’s got his head on your chest which is how he sleeps anyway, it’d be easy for him to just knock out and see you in the morning.
He doesn’t, which is a little surprising, but then again not really. He takes care of you, all the time, always. No matter how tired, and this is no exception.
With a groan he stands up on jelly-legs, boneless and pleasure weak with a great big grin on his face. You get lost momentarily in how beautiful he is, blissed out.
“Come on.” He reaches a hand out for you, and you laugh laugh laugh because you can’t even lift your arm to meet it. Flip smiles at you, beams, wraps a hand around your ankle and gives it a shake as he tries to pull you out of bed. “I gotta clean you up honey-bunny. You’re so pretty like this but it’ll itch.”
“It’s itching now.” You complain, somewhere deep inside your head a rational thought is desperate for a wet towel.
Flip being Flip has the sense of mind to roll his eyes, and the two of you venture stark naked into the bathroom, not bothering to turn on any of the lights. You’ve lived here so long, you know the path, why ruin this magical moment with the bright shock of vanity bulbs?
“You’re so beautiful, I love you.” Flip stands behind you at the counter, kisses your neck, your shoulder. He��s got a cloth in his hand and he sweeps it over your body, caring for you, cleaning you.
He does this slowly, an act of passion in its own right. There’s something more intimate about this almost, the care. You allow him, are grateful for it as he cleans you, makes sure to get between your legs where his come is already sliding out of your pussy.
“I love you too sweetheart but you have to drink this.” You fill up a glass of water from the sink. You take the first sip, because he won’t drink it until you do. When you’ve gotten a good gulp, you pass it to him and smile at him, smile because you’re so in love as you cheekily remark, “You came so much you’ll be dehydrated if you don’t.”
And Flip, ever one for the theatrics, downs the rest of the glass in two glugs, smacking his lips together and sighing out a silly, “Ahh.”
You laugh then, on cloud nine as your knees wobble from being so well fucked, at least for this first round. He steadies you and smiles along, just happy to be there, happy to be with you. You’re so proud of him all the time, but tonight especially your pride swells for him.
“Cigarette, my Head Detective?” You rummage through the medicine cabinet for his stash of Camels, sticking one between your lips long enough to light it with a match before passing it off to him.
“A man could get used to this.” Flip replies, taking it and kissing you hard hard hard, kissing you over and over again, tongues smiling together. He replies as if he hasn’t been fucking you like this for years, replies like you haven’t been married from seemingly the dawn of time.
It makes you feel warm, knowing that after all this long while of being The Zimmermans, he still has an eye for you, a hunger for you. Standing there in the bathroom in the dark, nothing but the red glow of the cigarette tip burning away, you kiss one another, drink your water, laugh together, so in love.
And later once you’re all taken care of, once you bounce back onto the mattress, once you scramble to get back into each other’s arms, once your heartbeat begins to race and his hands begin to wander, you can’t help but grin – because the night indeed was still young.
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Tagging some pals!
@kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker @goodboybensolo @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan @flapjacques @thepilotanon @aweirdlookingtree @callmemania-pls @theold-ultraviolence @og-selene @pinkmoontribe-blog
#flip zimmerman#flip zimmerman x reader#flip zimmerman/reader#flip zimmerman x you#flip zimmerman/you#flip/reader#flip/you#flip zimmerman fanfic#flip zimmerman smut#flip zimmerman imagine#blackkklansman#my writing
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Black Clover Week 2020, Day 4: Role Reversal
So I thought long and hard about what I wanted this to be and I finally decided what the obvious answer is. Behold: "Sexy Evil Julius Novachrono"
Warning: oops kind of angsty lol, ended up kind of long, also slight spoilers for the Spade Arc
"I didn't want it to be like this..."
Julius knew he was backed into a corner. He did his best for six months to hide his condition from the King, but the truth eventually slipped out. Was it one of the Captains? Or more likely Damnatio... but it didn't matter. Julius was dragged out into the light, where Augustus and the entire Kira family laughed at him.
"Look at you! Once, you claimed that your power rivaled mine, but now you're nothing but a weak child!" Augustus taunted as his infuriatingly slow light magic pushed Julius around. "Obviously, you can't be Wizard King any more, can you? And for lying to me for so long..."
Julius was stripped of everything he had worked so hard to achieve. He had hoped that everything would settle down after the defeat of the Spade Dark Triad, but now here he was, banished from the noble realm, with nothing but the body of a child, a single page of his grimoire, his former advisor, Marx.
And last he heard, Augustus was planning to appoint a new Wizard King, to add to Julius's humiliation. He didn't know who it would be, but he knew one thing:
It should still be me. I'm not ready to give it up yet. I'm not done.
There were parts of his dream yet to fall into place, and Julius wouldn't let anyone take hold of the future he fought for.
So, this desperation lead him all over the continent, Marx at his side, searching for ways to bring him back to his full power. It lead them into some pretty dangerous places, but eventually they ended up near a being who might just be able to help him. You see, after the last fight with the Dark Triad, the fabric between this world and the underworld of Devils had been thinned drastically, which was the only reason why Julius found himself face to a Devil with the same powers as him. A rare and interesting opportunity... Julius couldn’t help but think about Asta. How did Asta even manage to get a Devil in his Grimoire? I guess it doesn’t matter now... I’m about to walk down that same path. The Devil was eager for a chance to enter the living world, and willing to let Julius use his powers to do whatever he wanted. Maybe the Devil could sense the malice to come.
But, this was potent, forbidden magic, the kind that required the sacrifice of someone’s life to complete. Luckily, there was a volunteer there, ready to do what it took to help his King.
“I wish I could see this to the end,” Marx told Julius, a smile on his face despite the fear that trembled through his hands. “Promise me you’ll make it back, and fulfill your dream... and try not to get so distracted so much! Seriously, without me there, it’s going to be much worse, isn’t it?”
Julius couldn’t help but laugh at those long-passed memories. “I promise, Marx... I’ll never take my eyes off my goal again.”
And so, Marx’s life ended, and Julius’s began once again.
“J-JULIUS?! What is the meaning of this?!”
To say that Augustus was surprised was an understatement. He stared in shock as the man he banished walked right towards him, in all his former glory. His Swallowtail mark was back, but it was red instead of blue. The bright look that always used to be in Julius’s eyes was gone, replaced with a dark purpose that scared Augustus. The King frantically waved his staff as Julius continued to approach without a word. “Guards! Stop him!”
Four guards ran at Julius, who didn’t even slow down. He just raised his hands, letting off two beams of blinding red light. Screams filled the room as the smoke cleared and there was absolutely no sign of the attackers.
Panic started to fill Augustus as Julius climbed up the stairs to his throne. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he could see a little smile on the man’s face. “Julius!!! I’ll kill you myself!” A giant, golden monarch of light rose up behind Augustus, brandishing it’s staff. Julius recognized it as the same spell that held him down when Augustus humiliated and banished him. He felt more angry now than even when Yami and William were kidnapped, but none of it showed on his face.
Augustus... this is the only time I’ve ever been happy to see you. The day I kill you.
He wanted to see the same fear that once plagued him on Augustus’s face, so Julius let his Devil out. From his Swallowtail mark, pitch-black magic pervaded his body, staining his hair and his skin down to his hands. Just as he intended, a look of pure fear covered Augustus’s face as Julius’s own Weg appeared, a sharp, dangerous onyx antler.
Goodbye, your majesty.
More screams filled the room, and Augustus’s Golden Monarch melted away. Julius let himself smile genuinely before turning back to the others. “You’re all from the Kira family, yes?” he asked, remembering how they all laughed at him. Maybe I can get a little more revenge today... but first... “Tell me... who’s the new Wizard King?”
“I am.”
Julius and everyone else turned to the side entrance to see none other than Fuegoleon Vermillion walk in. Hmm, I should have expected that. This might be tricky. “It’s good to see you again, Fuegoleon,” Julius told him with a little wave, not moving from his place up by the throne. “As you can see, I’m back, so would you be okay with waiting your turn a little while longer?”
Fuegoleon’s eyes darted down to the ground, where several scorch marks already stained the marble. “I can’t do that, sir... you just killed our King.”
“I know it must be shocking to see, but don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same thing. Or,” Julius narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you wouldn’t... maybe you still think of him as family.”
“Family or not, as the Wizard King, I have the Kingdom’s best interest in mind. And right now...” Fuegoleon opened his Grimoire, flames already roaring to life around him. “I don’t think you’re included in those interests.”
“Ah, that’s a shame.” Julius’s smile faded. It was starting to look like he’ll have to kill another friend today. “Well, if you’re so quick to defend a man who deserved to die... I guess we have no choice. Thank you, Fuegoleon. I admire your virtue.”
...
...
“Julius! Julius-”
Yami and William ran to the Castle as soon as they heard the rumors. It can’t be true... Master William would never do such a thing, William thought to himself in a panic.
That old man... so the moment he comes back, he takes everything out on the Kira family? But if the rumors are true, then also...
Yami skidded to a stop, William running into him. They peered into the great hall to see the horrible sight. Smoke drifted through the air, the last remaining dregs of flame mana. Mixed in was a horrible, unnatural magic, but unfortunately magic that they recognized all too well. Members of the Kira family were scattered everywhere, but among all of them.
“No... Fuegoleon...”
William ran to the body and fell to his knees. Yami felt numb as he followed. William felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find it. “So... it’s true. Master Julius is here, somewhere...” His eyes darkened. “We have to stop him.”
They caught up to Julius just as he was about to step out of the castle and reclaim his title. “Ah, you two... I’m glad you’re here-” Julius cut himself off when he saw that Yami and William were ready to attack, grimoires and sword at the ready. “I see... well, before you blindly attack me, why don’t you listen to my speech?”
“What are you going to tell them?” Yami growled, hiding his fear and confusion. “Make promises you can’t keep?”
“What do you mean? I’ve always kept my promises.” Julius’s smile faded a little. “And I made one recently... I promised to never take my eyes off my goal again.” He clenched his fist. “I won’t step down... not until I’ve brought peace and equality back into this kingdom. While there’s still discrimination, I can’t stop.”
“Listen to you...” Yami let his sword lower. “A regular people’s man... you, who’s never faced discrimination in your life. Don’t you think it’s time to hand your job to someone else? We weren’t going to let you get killed, we were trying to find you when you came back here. You did so much for this kingdom already. You should have just gone and found a peaceful life somewhere, instead of crawling back up here, committing murder, and whatever the other shit is you have planned.”
Julius’s smile was completely gone now, just a look of disappointment on his face. “Well... why don’t we see what they think?”
Julius knew that he was beloved by the kingdom. And he knew that love was very much still alive as he walked out to greet the crowd, cheers and cries of his name filling the air. Yami and William could do nothing but watch as he proclaimed himself King and, once again, Wizard King. The crowd ate it all up, this was what they wanted for so long, for Julius to just take the power for himself. They didn’t understand the cost at the time. “Together... we’ll dismantle the system that’s oppressed you for so long. The nobility must go... and that future is in your hands.”
Julius turned back to look at Yami and William as the crowd cheered once again. One read of his Ki, and Yami could tell. Julius had no intention of fighting them, or even defending himself. The message was clear: Yami... are you really going to strike down a beloved monarch in front of the people who love him?
No... I can’t. Yami grit his teeth. Dammit, Julius...
Julius was filled with nothing but confidence. The confidence of a man with nothing to lose and the entire world to gain.
William stared at the ground, clenching his fists, as Julius came back to join them. “Well, I’m glad you two came around. Now-” Both of the younger men looked up as their friend, mentor, and now King took their hands with his usual smile on his face. But today, that gentleness was a lie. Maybe Julius truly believed in what he was doing, but Yami had a bad feeling that a storm was just around the corner. “Will you help me rebuild this kingdom in our image?”
OUR image? You mean... your image.
“...yes, sir.”
Yami followed him, unable to look into the eyes of anyone as one thought plagued his mind.
I didn’t want it to be like this...
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Three Simple Rules

Summary: Jim Hopper is a fan of three simple rules in all aspects of his life. Easy to follow. Uncomplicated. That is...until he decides to break rule #3, with his secretary, on his desk. Pairing: Jim Hopper x Female Reader Warning(s): Smut 18+, possessive Hopper, canon level cigarette smoking, implied age gap Word Count: 2,014 Beta Reader: The stunning and sexy @supersoldiersruined-me. Notes: This was my first request! I hope I did your wish justice, @fandomfic-galore. Request Message:
For the Jim fic I was thinking of something like he has a new PA and she gets caught doing something she shouldn’t. Something naughty and he wants to teach her a lesson in his office. Haha. After your exam of course.
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It’s 10:15 a.m. There’s not a clock in sight but you know it must be true. The squeal and slam of the Blazer’s door followed by the heavy crunch of gravel up to the police station door are as good as second and minute hands. Hopper isn’t much for reliability in other areas but he is reliably late to work.
“You know that is just so interesting.”
The extra flirty inflections on your words is unnecessary, truth be told, but it felt like a cherry on top. You’ve slung your torso over the young deputy’s desk in a way that’s far too inviting. Your shirt, usually quite office appropriate but currently unbuttoned an extra button, crept down just deep enough you could tell he had a good look down your front. Your pencil skirt rode up high enough you should move to adjust it but—
The door slams open as Jim Hopper enters the office. He’s mid-sentence, trying to brush off Flo’s chiding, when he greeted by a prime view of your ass propped up in front of him.
“Is Callahan bothering you, sweetheart?”
You can see his jaw tick and the tone of his voice is just above growl. Flo’s eyes flit back and forth between you and the chief.
“I’m so sorry, Hopper. These young ones nowadays. She’s still learning her duties.”
It’s true. You had only been hired as a secondary secretary at the Hawkin’s Police Department just about a month ago. In actuality, you were quite bright. You’d picked up on all the secretarial tasks rapidly. If anything, you were bored at your job. Which could possibly explain your current antics.
Jim eyes you up and down analyzing the scene before him. His eyes pause on the swell of your breasts visible and plump under the undone button, the extra length of silky exposed thigh from your tight skirt, and then back up to your blushing cheeks. His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. Busted.
“That’s okay, Flo. I’ll have a word with her.” You and Florence begin to apologize in unison but it’s clear the topic isn’t up for discussion. Hopper places a large hand on your shoulder gently directing you to his office. “Let’s talk...alone.”
The last word had a deadly lilt to it. For a split second, you wonder if you’ve taken this whole thing too far. You don’t get to continue the thought as the heavy oak door of his office clicks closed. Hopper stalks over to the only window in his office and harshly tugs the blinds closed. It’s with an eerie grace, he sits down on the edge of his desk and lights a cigarette.
“Hopper, I…” The look he shoots you stops you in your tracks. “Jim, I’m sorry.”
He huffs a heavy cloud of smoke out from his lungs that would make a steam engine jealous. At the end of the exhale, his lips play into a sharp smirk as if he’s enjoying your discomfort. The two of you sit in the office in silence with only the clicking of his clock proving the time is passing. He stares you in the eye before beginning.
“Okay, so let me get this straight in my head…” The pause between his sentences is pregnant with anticipation. He takes a long drag from his smoke and continues, “You thought it was a brilliant idea to flirt with Phil Callahan.”
“I can explain.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“You’re the one who—” His brows raise towards his hairline but you trudge on with as much conviction as you can muster. “You’re the one who started something he couldn’t finish this morning.”
He takes a third drag; groaning as he exhales. The smoke curls in tendrils around the coarse hair of his mustache before dissipating into the room. The sound shoots tingles straight between your thighs. He strides with a grace all too foreign on his large frame and sits in the chair behind his desk. Another guttural sound escapes his lips while he contemplates your sin. The smoke and emotionally charged atmosphere have turned the small office into an oppressive sauna.
“That’s fine. That’s just fine.” His tone indicates it’s anything but fine. “You’re a needy little one aren’t you? Was last night not enough for you?”
The temperature of your skin, near boiling in anticipation, deepens across your chest and cheeks under his accusation. Despite the shame and heat radiating off your skin another heat has settled at the apex of your thighs. Hopper had made the terms of your arrangement very clear. Three simple rules.
You were his and no one else's. He does not share.
This could end at any time. Attachment isn’t his thing.
Absolutely zero discussion of the arrangement or acting “familiar” at work, in town, or around anyone else.
Yet, here he wasn’t actively talking about the two of you, like that, at work. Sure, you were behind closed doors in his office but that seemed menial protection at best.
“I asked you a question, dammit.” His hand slams on the desk. He manages to keep the volume of his voice in check. “Last night wasn’t enough so you thought it was a good idea to come in here advertise yourself like some ten dollar hooker for Phil?”
He’s not being fair. You had certainly been looking for punishment but he’s hitting low blows. Your instincts wants to curse and spit; anything to fight back and defend yourself. Your body seems to have other thoughts. The timbre and power behind his voice have you soaked and your brain clouded.
“I just wanted…”
“What? What did you want that was so damn important?” You hang your head shamefully. His posture changes. “I see. You wanted to be punished.”
The booming chuckle stings. You know it’s mocking. His first cigarette is gone. He tamps down the last of the ashes in the tray in time with his laughter.
“Well since you know best, get on with it.”
Your face screws up in confusion. What was he asking? For you to beg? Ask forgiveness? He couldn’t possibly be giving you what you want so easily. He flicks his lighter open and ignites before leaning back in his desk chair. He holds the white stick between his plump pink lips and rips open the belt and zipper of his pants.
He takes a long drag. You always found it annoyingly attractive how he holds them, pinched tightly between his thumb and index, gesticulating with them when he needs to make a particular point in a conversation. The smoky undertones that cling to his lips whenever you dipped your tongue inside.
“You know I looked up one time how long it takes a cigarette to burn down. Average is five to seven minutes. I even timed myself when I was younger and first started smoking. It’s a stupid thing.” You’re still paralyzed on the chair across from him waiting for the punchline. “I used to average five minutes. No idea how long it takes me now. You have until this is finished to do things your way, since you seem to want to call the shots, and bounce that pretty little ass up and down on my cock.”
“And when it's done?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see won’t you, sweetheart?”
You should have been embarrassed at the speed of which you jumped up to take his hardening cock out of his pants. You lick him only twice; engulfing him all the way into your mouth the second time before straddling his lap. You’re still sore from the events of last night. You ruck your skirt up higher and pull your panties to the side. You try to have him enter you slowly but his hips buck into you; stretching you so deliciously from the inside.
“Don’t pretend like you’re not dripping, sweetheart.”
He wasn’t wrong. He makes no move to touch your breasts or guide your hips. You’re on your own working yourself up and down on his length while trying to balance your weight on the desk chair.
He’s leaned far back taking drag after drag off his smoke. When a quarter of it is gone, you’ve settled in your rhythm. When half is gone ripples of pleasure have settled low in your pelvis; the beginnings of something begging to be unleashed. When a quarter remains, your fists are bunched in Hoppers uniform biting the back of your hand to keep your pants and moans at an acceptable volume. The entire time Jim hasn’t moved. One hand is tucked smugly behind his head as he leans and the other only moves to bring the cigarette from the ashtray to his lips and back again.
“Times up, sweetheart.”
“Wait! I’m so close!”
“I don’t fucking care! Times up!”
He stands, easily carrying the weight of you, and roughly presses your back against the cool wood of his desk with his own wood still deep inside you. His hulking frame hunches over you briefly planting a sloppy but much needed kiss on your lips. He tugs your hips off the desk so they’re supported only by his huge palms.
“Look down, baby. Look at me inside you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this. Spread wide, taking my cock so fucking well on my desk.” Your core clenches as he pumps in and out of you wildly. You adored when he was like this; brutish and wild. A Hopper only you got to see.
A knock on the door interrupts your haze of lust.
“The door isn’t locked! Hopper, the door isn’t locked?!”
“It doesn’t have a lock.” His palm smacks a stinging blow against your ass. “That doesn’t mean I’m stopping.”
His pace is bruising and brutal only interspersed by the occasional biting smack from his hands on your flesh. You feel yourself inch further away from him from the power of his thrusts. A frustrated hand grips you hip tightly and the other plants firmly on your neck. Using each pressure point of your body for leverage, he resumes his punishment. Another knock sounds against the door; louder and more urgent.
“I’m busy!” He bellows at the door. “Can you imagine it, sweetheart. Phil barging in here seeing you choked out, ass red, and taking my fat cock.”
That nearly pushes you over the edge. Your tiny hand sandwiches his on your throat pressing a bit harder. He meets your gaze knowing what your asking. The pressure increases on your windpipe. You couldn’t tell him how much you loved it even if you wanted to. He grinds his pelvis into yours like he does when his own release is close. Another couple of thrusts and you’re clenching and spasming around him while he empties in you warm and sticky.
The first breath of air is cold and gulped down greedily.
“Chief!” The knocking returns. “We got a call. I really think we should go check this out.”
“In a second!”
He kisses you tenderly and helps you straighten yourself before tucking himself back in his pants.
“Too far, sweetheart?”
“No, Hop. Just far enough.”
“I don’t hate it by the way. The whole, flirting with the other guys in the office thing.” You straighten his tie and press out wrinkles in the shirt. “You were right. It turns me on. Knowing I’m the one to get to go home and be the one to fuck you into the mattress.”
“The only one, Chief.”
You wink before throwing the door open to the office and returning to reality. Phil stands there eyeing the both of you guiltily. Before you make it back to your own desk, you hear him apologizing to Hopper.
“I’m sorry, Chief. Truly. Shouldn’t be acting like that here at work.”
“You’re right, Phil. Don’t let it happen again.” He sneaks a glance at you, still preening from your words, while he shrugs on his blue jacket with the sherling lapels. “But between you and me, I think she kinda likes it.”
#Jim Hopper x reader#hopper x reader#Jim Hopper#Jim Hopper x you#Jim Hopper smut#hopper x you#Jim Hopper x female reader#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#my writing#my fics#request fic
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Tiny Dancer
John X Reader
Caution: Heated moments, Strong language, Sexual references.
I’m actually quite proud of how this one turned out.
Enjoy, my cuties.
~~~
The room was on fire.
Not literally, of course, but the hundred bodies cramped up in a tiny club, definitely made it feel that way.
I love to dace, what can I say?
So here I was, in the heat of the moment, shoving away my introvert, and dancing like there was no tomorrow.
Maybe there wouldn’t be.
Who the fuck cares?
A few hours earlier, I was chatting with my best friend.
“I’ve got a man. You need a man! Babe, you could get any guy that you want, all you gotta do is look at him.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Lisa, I don’t need anybody. Just chill out. I’m fine just the way I am.” I smirked “Untouchable.”
“Dude, you can’t stay a virgin forever.”
“Yes, I can watch me!”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yes, actually.”
She grinned “I bet you 100 dollars to go to Mark’s tonight and get roaring drunk. If you comeback a virgin, I’ll eat my shoe.”
“And pay me 100 bucks.”
“Yes, that too.”
I shook her hand.
“Deal.”
I went to Mark’s.
I even went a little further and wore the most scandalous thing in my wardrobe. Spaghetti strapped, thigh length, skimpy black dress, if you’d even call it that, clung to my hourglass body like a long lost friend. Ruby studs and a matching necklace only added to my look. Of course, as any girl looking for a good time, I wore 3 inch heels that hurt like a bitch. I put so much makeup on my face that my guise didn’t even look remotely familiar.
“What to drink?” asked the bartender, wiping champagne flutes.
“Surprise me.” I grinned.
He smiled back “As you wish.” He got working, mixing his voodoo drink.
I glanced around the place. It was fairly quiet, for a club at least.
Some old men smoking pipes in the back.
A girl and her girlfriends sipping margaritas at the bar.
“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Mia, Happy birthday to you!”
The girls clapped and the girl, who I assumed was Mia, took a sip of the drink. Immediately after, she coughed hysterically.
Amused, I presumed she had just gotten to legal drinking age and so she was living it up with her girlfriends.
Not a bad way to live, I thought, watching them a while.
The bartender came back with the surprise drink.
“Mad Hatter.” he said.
I stared at it. I was a pretty turquoise colour, and the edges were rimmed with pink.
I took a sip.
The flavour hit my tongue instantly. Definitely lime, along with something that tasted like melted jolly ranchers, vodka and something I couldn’t quite place.
Just as I took another sip, a large group came in. All of them were young men. Very handsome young men. I decided to pay them no mind.
At least for the moment.
As I continued taking sips, I felt one of the boys’ eyes on me. I shoved away the flirty impulse of turning, and winking at him and instead stared out at the town, which was getting darker by the minute.
Minutes ticked by, and more people came in.
The sound of chatter was starting to irritate me.
I stood up, and walked straight to the jukebox.
Once the music hit my ears, a sudden relief washed over me. I finished off the my drink and requested another one, a bit stronger this time. The bartender’s eyes raised, but he said nothing as he went to work on another one.
Once I got it, I threw back half of it. I was started to feel extremely relaxed and a bit woozy.
Normally, I’m a fairly mellow girl and don’t really care to be the center of attention.
Oh, but tonight was different. I was the star of the show and every boy in the room wanted me.
But no fucking way would any of them get me.
I swayed and danced to the music.
I was the only one at first, but I didn’t give a fuck. Soon enough, birthday girl and her groupies joined me. Everyone started catching on, pushed back their chairs, and got lost in the music.
I ordered one “Mad Hatter” after another, letting the voodoo juices work their way into my system.
I was completely and utterly roaring drunk.
My arms and hips moved perfectly in sync to the rhythm. One boy after another tried making moves on me, wrapping their arms around my waist and stealing kisses. I’d let them for a while, but then I’d push them away, remaining the Untouchable.
But then, there was the boy.
That one damned boy.
Who ruined everything.
I parted the crowd like the red sea as I went to request another drink.
“You’re quite the dancer.”
I turned to the source of the words.
I smirked “I know. I don’t think I’ve had a chance with you yet. Wanna try?”
He smirked.
“No thank you. I try to stay away from man eaters.”
I scowled at the remark “Who says smartass? I’m just trying to have a good time.”
His eyes darkened.
“I’ll show you a good time.”
I raised an eyebrow as I sipped another most likely drug-filled drink.
“Wanna bet? I doubt you’d last 5 seconds with me, pretty boy.”
“The name’s John.”
“Whatever. Don’t really care. So, what d’you say? Deal, or are you too chicken?”
He rose his hand up.
“Deal.”
I rose mine to shake, but he grabbed it and kissed it.
Like, really kissed it.
My heart went into my throat.
“You’re good.” I admitted.
He raised his eyes to me. “Oh, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
There was a gleam in his eyes which sent chills down my spine.
He pulled me off to the side and we started dancing. It was fairly normal, hands on my waist, mine around his neck.
Soon however, he pulled me closer and closer to him. He leaned toward me and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead he whispered in my ear.
“Tonight baby, you’re mine. And I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk.”
My body radiated with heat, my face flushed red. Nobody had said something so forward and confident to me, ever.
“What makes you think I want you to fuck me?”
He grinned wolfishly at me “This.”
This time he leaned in for the kiss.
And oh boy, what a kiss it was.
Not any little peck in high school could have prepared me for this. Who knew someones tongue could be so magical?
He mapped out my entire mouth before he let me breathe again.
He was a hot mess, hair tousled, lips big and pink, and his eyes, full of desire.
His hands lightly went up and down my figure.
“You’re sexy as fuck.”
I blushed slightly. Biting my lip, I looked at the ground. My Shy was rearing it’s head back, coming to haunt me, dammit. What happened to Miss Confident?”
He tilted my head up to face him.
He licked his lips hungrily staring into my eyes and looking deep into my soul.
“Let’s get outta here.”
He grabbed my hand, and lead us out of Mark’s.
Some of the other boys I had seen him with earlier were smoking outside.
They turned and grinned at him.
“Ey, John! What ya up to?”
“None of your bloody business, Paul.”
They all looked at me and some of them oohed.
“Have fun Johnny!”
“Oh, fuck off Ringo.” John snapped.
He opened the car door for me and we were off.
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
Today, I was supposed to prove that I didn’t need anybody by getting drunk and breaking all the boys’ hearts.
Now, I was in a car, bound to lose the very thing I promised I’d never do, in a manner of minutes.
Damn you, John,
We entered a fairly decent looking flat.
“Let me take your coat.”
I shrugged off my mink and walked further into the place.
“Well, welcome to my humble abode.”
It was then that I realized how drunk I was.
The room was spinning.
“I think... I should sit down.” I slumped onto the couch.
“Right. Where were we? Ah, yes.”
He turned on me.
He crawled on top of me. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin, and the heat from the leather sofa underneath me.
He traced my lips.
“I believe I never caught your name. Care to oblige me with it?”
“(y/n).”
He smiled. “Unique. Very pretty. Like you.”
He leaned in once more.
“Now as much as I like this dress, I think it would look much better on the floor.”
I unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt.
“Whatever you say, handsome.”
He caught my lips once again for a searing kiss.
“I’m going to fuck you now.” he growled.
I smiled goofily, my eyes a bit glazed.
“Sounds good to me.”
~~~
“You owe me 100 dollars, I believe.” Lisa chirped brightly.
I groaned “Shut up, would ya? My head’s killing me.”
She smirked “I won’t stop till you say you lost.”
“Fine, you won. Now shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”
She grinned like a cat who got the cream. Passing me a coffee cup she said, “He seemed very handsome. What was his name?”
“John.” I winced.
“(y/n), you’re human. We all need to give in to our desires sometimes. I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”
“Yeah, yeah...sure, whatever.” I grumbled.
Deep down, I was glad she was right.
I should do it again sometime.
~~~
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