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detective-inspector-her · 3 months ago

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Posting my Fae AU Prologue because I wanna. (it's five pages long)

January 2000

Ghastly walked around the edge of the forest calmly. Today was a good day, a relaxing day. He appreciated the quiet, sometimes the chaos of his household got a bit much. As was to be expected from traumatised children living in a world they weren’t born into.

Not that he didn’t love his children—he did, fiercely—but each had transformed into a different breed of Fae, with needs and appetites as varied as their forms. Dexter was his anchor on those days when it all became too much. And Saracen... well, when Saracen wasn’t being insufferably self-absorbed, he could be of some use too. Ghastly shook his head at the thought.

He paused near a clearing, watching as a boy, no more than twelve summers old, helped a younger girl retrieve her kite from the clutches of a tree. The boy's face radiated warmth, his hands nimble as he freed the tangled strings from the branches. He landed softly on the ground and handed the kite back to the girl, whose giggles floated through the air like bells on the wind.

Ghastly smiled and was about to turn away, seeing nothing that required his attention, when a man in a forest green linen shirt approached with a scowl on his face.

The boy’s posture stiffened immediately. Ghastly narrowed his eyes, observing as the boy quickly shooed the girl away. The man, most likely the boy’s father, began to shout, though Ghastly was too far to hear. The child’s expression crumbled, shrinking beneath the weight of the man's words. The blow landed on the back of the boy’s head, and Ghastly felt the familiar pulse of ancient magic stir within him. His gaze sharpened and with a soft glint, a golden tally mark shaped like a sewing needle shimmered into existence above the man’s head.

The boy gasped, his wide eyes locked onto the glowing symbol. Fae magic, particularly Ghastly’s, was impossible to hide from children. They sensed it instinctively, even if they didn’t fully understand. Some would know the stories—the legends—of his kind. They would soon learn what the tally meant: the man had been marked and as such, the boy was his target. And children, when they saw such marks, would act. They would circle his targets, draw them in with endless distractions, never leaving them alone, a never-ending protection ring. Ghastly’s work would become harder.

But it was never the children he blamed. They didn’t know that he wasn’t their enemy. They didn’t know that he sought to help, not harm.

The boy was dragged away, his eyes still tracing the glowing mark as if it held some answer he couldn’t grasp. Ghastly watched in silence, his expression unreadable, as the man and child disappeared into the distance.

With a final glance, he turned and melted back into the shadowed embrace of the forest.

Carlton laughed as his friend made a stupid joke. They’d been hanging around him ever since they saw the needle above his father’s head. None of them were sure what it meant at first so, for the first time in years, they hit the books. And the answer had terrified him.

He was the target of a Fae. They couldn’t tell if they were malicious or not, but Simion had suggested that they’d seen his father’s treatment of him and decided that he’d be an easy target. Carlton hoped it wasn’t true, but it was becoming more likely by the day.

“So what are you gonna do for your birthday, dude?” Danny asked, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re thirteen now, and we all had something big happen.”

Carlton shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “I dunno. We could hit the arcade, grab some pizza afterwards, and then part ways?”

Simion narrowed her eyes, skepticism etched on her face. “You mean we can go to the arcade, grab some pizza, and head to Sammy’s for a sleepover.”

“Surely they’re sick of seeing us by now?”

Sammy shook his head, “My parents are big believers of the Fae, like huge believers. Apparently, they had fairy friends when they travelled up and down the canal and were thrown a party before they left when my mum was pregnant with Greg.” He shrugged, “What I’m saying is that they’ll house you for as long as it takes for whoever is targeting you and your dad to lose interest.”

Carlton smiled, hope sparking briefly. But then his phone rang, and he winced as his father’s voice boomed down the line. His friends frowned, and Danny snatched the phone from his hand, but that only made things worse. Every word was crystal clear, heavy with rage. Carlton slumped, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Looks like we’ll have to put a hold on any plans,” he said, the enthusiasm draining from his voice.

Sammy clenched his fists, frustration evident. “If I didn’t know what can happen to someone targeted by the Fae, I’d say let whoever has a target on your back take you. At this point, that seems like the better deal.”

Danny and Simion shot him glares, though there was no real anger behind them. Carlton tried to grin and flicked his hair back, but the smile felt forced. “Aw, come on, I couldn’t leave my mum forever. She’s too sick for that.” Guilt washed over him; he felt horrible for even considering running away. But he’d feel even guiltier if his stalker hurt her to get to him. “I’d better go home.”

Simion got on her bike, “Get on, I’ll take you. You two stay together as well, just in case. Sammy and Danny nodded and waved goodbye as Carlton climbed behind Simion and they rode off. They sat in silence for a while before Simion spoke again. “What would you do if you were directly confronted?”

Carlton thought about it and then shrugged, “I suppose it’d depend. Fae can’t lie, right? So if they said I’d live a happier, safer life… I don’t know if I’d be able to resist. And with the way my mum is right now, I don’t know how much longer she has. I’m planning on running away if she…”

Simion nodded, “Fair enough, but let us help. We’ll set up a new life for you, just… don’t leave us behind okay?”

Carlton nodded, “I’d never.”

When they arrived home, his father was waiting outside the door, a crumpled beer can rolling around on the driveway. Carlton’s heart sank as he noticed a second tally had appeared above his father’s head. Simion and Carlton exchanged a tense glance, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with dread. He quickly scanned the surroundings, seeing nothing but shadows, and nodded to Simion. Without another word, she sped away, leaving him to face the growing storm alone.

His mother died on the 19th of February. Carlton sat by her hospital bed, her voice weak as she asked for his father, her eyes searching the room for a man who hadn’t bothered to come. Carlton could only watch helplessly, unable to ease her suffering, her questions cutting deeper than any wound. When his father finally showed up, it was too late. She was already gone.

Grief exploded inside him like a storm. He fled the hospital, tears blurring his vision as he ran out into the cold, driving rain. His feet slipped on the wet pavement, and for a moment, he felt the ground rushing toward him—until a strong arm caught him around the waist, pulling him upright. Carlton wiped his eyes and looked up to see a man standing before him, scars crisscrossing his face, his expression sorrowful.

He backed away slowly and the man smiled before looking around. “Your friends are an observant bunch, aren’t they? Protective.”

Carlton narrowed his eyes, “What did you do to them?”

The man raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “Nothing, child. I never intended to harm you or your friends. I only want to take you away from that man. Your father... he’s not the right caregiver for you.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Carlton looked away, “If you were trying to be nice why was it so creepy?”

The man shrugged, “That’s how my magic works.” He glanced down at him, “I know what it feels like, to lose a parent you love. I lost both of mine, my father to a sickness and my mother to a war.”

Carlton’s gaze fell to his hands, his voice barely a whisper. “She didn’t deserve it.”

“No,” the man agreed, “she didn’t. You deserved to have her, and she deserved her freedom.” Carlton nodded, feeling the truth of those words echo in his heart. “I wish that’s how it had worked out for you.”

Carlton blinked, his throat tight with grief. “I’m sorry you lost your parents.”

The man smiled softly, his scars more pronounced in the dim light. “Thank you. So am I.” He straightened, a solemn dignity in his posture. “My name is Ghastly Bespoke. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, even though the circumstances are far from ideal.”

Carlton almost smiled, “Carlton Brooks, thank you for catching me.”

Ghastly nodded, “Of course Carlton.” He stood, “The decision is yours now. I won’t take you unless you want me to. You’e old enough to make that decision.”

Carlton looked up at him, conflicted. Ghastly seemed kind in a way that his father never had been, and as a Fae, he couldn’t lie. There was a sincerity in his words that made Carlton believe he truly understood some part of the pain he was feeling. But then there was the promise he’d made to his friends—to never leave them behind.

“Can I... can I say goodbye first?” Carlton asked, his voice small but steady.

Ghastly nodded. “Of course. I will return for you in two days. But remember, time moves differently in the Fae realm, so you must act quickly. I cannot come back repeatedly without reason.”

Carlton hesitated, his heart pounding. “Will I be... happier?”

The Fae’s smile softened, warm yet knowing. “The happiest you’ve ever been in your life.”

Carlton nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest, even as a new one settled in its place. He turned and walked off into the rain, knowing that in two days, he would leave behind this broken world for something better.

#skulduggery pleasant #ghastly bespoke #fletcher renn #Fae AU fic

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awesomespiritcat21 · 2 years ago

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I'll try and write here what I've thought of so far for it. No guarantees that it'll make any sense lol. And mind you i'm no writer so some of my sentences may suck with "proper punctuation" and whatnot. And this very well could change later

》---------------------¤•°☆°▪︎¤--------------------《

After Jack had fallen with the star nobody had thought to take the bag with them.

As soon as everyone left Death came back to do his job properly. Feeling uncomfortable that someone could be watching him..he heads down into the abyss of the dangerously sharp star shards. To his surprise he stumbles upon a well made nanny bag that is still in perfect condition some how.

The only thing to take note of was the huge scent of blood but no visible body anywhere. Not wanting to risk any exposure to any rowdy or unknown magic while he was down there, death swiftly took the bag, and jumped onto the larger shards that promptly wedged themselves between the smaller divides of the star-shaped crater, and made away with his exit.

Jack was still not visible to Death anywhere near the scene of the incident. It bothered him that his senses were telling him he was close to where he SHOULD'VE been but nothing was showing. It wasn't until he sniffed the bag more when walking out of the forest; that he had caught a whiff of what smelled like a stale plum.

Stopping in his tracks before the exist of the forest, He crinkled his nose at the unsatisfactory smell and opened the bag only to be greeted with a giant hand that was trying to leave the voided space. He stepped back and held on to one of his sythes just in case. When the rest of the body was visible to Death, Jack was eventually kneeling down in front of him. Facing away.

The smell of blood had returned but this time it was stale. A bottle the size of a small figurine to Jack rolled to Death's feet as a small droplet of a reddish pink liquid threatened to drip onto him. Death stepped back slightly. The giant man kneeling before him was a mix of nauseating smells, but the one that stood out the most to Death was still the blood. With no sight of injury to the back of the man before him he had wondered what was causing the smell. He slowly and calmly walked to the front of Jack finally looking him in the eye. There was dried blood on the front of him, but no sign of injury.

"You aren't supposed to be alive pie boy."

"Then this must be hell. Wouldn't surprise me considering the things I've done."

"Suprisingly you managed to live and as surprising as that should be to me it's not. I've seen what nine lives look like. I suppose a man with a second one doesn't feel any different."

"Oh ho but it does! I feel like a million lifetimes are passing through my veins. If it weren't for my desire to stay alive so badly I would probably be dead at the bottom of that hell hole in the ground." (Jack points behind him)

"Now all I wish for is to look normal once again so nobody suspects a thing. And you're gonna promise to help me." With an sinful grin, Jack grabs Death by the scruff of his poncho and throws him into the bag beside them.

"I didn't promise anything to you Jack." Death's grinning smile fades through the abyss as he starts to whistle to himself and somehow ends up out of the bag. He will not be chained down by someone who is super-powered by the wishing star.

》---------------------¤•°☆°▪︎¤--------------------《

Sorry for the long post. It's just some of yall we're interested in the au and out of both of the names I have no idea which I want to use because they sound super cool. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to write or draw anything for this au but I would love to see anything that yall make from this!

#my art #fuck my art is bad #my art is trash #my art owo #my artwork #my artz #my art lol #big jack horner #jack horner #death wolf #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots

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tranquil-turbulence · 2 years ago

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SS Month - Day 6

Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Prompt: Magical Girl AU

Warnings: Mentions of mild violence

Another week of school, another monster to fight.

Sakura - now the magical Ruby, heaved a sigh as she ran through the courtyard, clutching her fist to her chest. Her visor wasn’t quite cracked yet, but that last blow had really tested its mettle.

“Ruby, where are you?” A familiar voice rang through her earpiece, harried and winded.

“Near the gym,” she responded as soon as she could draw breath, whirling around to stare up at the giant snake slithering determinedly towards her. “Are the boys safe?”

“Pearl is watching them at the cafeteria.” Amethyst huffed a laugh. “She nearly fainted when Naruto jumped into her arms.”

Ruby chuckled to herself; that poor girl would never be able to compose herself around him.

Turquoise chimed in: “That stupid snake has reinforcements near the front office. Ruby, Amethyst, steer him away!”

“I’m already on it!” Ruby narrowed her eyes at the giant creature and readied her other fist, muttering under her breath, “Sorry, Principal Senju…!”

DOOOOOOOM…

The ground splintered under her knuckles, creating a wide divide in the grass between herself and the snake. The earth crackled in a shockwave towards him and caved beneath his weight.

An ear-splitting shriek pierced the air, coming from the beast’s horrible maw. Ruby gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to clap her hands over her ears.

“Why, oh why couldn’t you decide to come on a test day?” She shouted at him, picking up the pace until she was sprinting towards the snake. Her voice grew louder and angrier, eyes flickering, as she added, “I was having lunch with SASUKE-KUN!”

----

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” one of the students was panicking, pacing back and forth from where they were trapped in the cafeteria.

“Everyone remain calm,” Mahou Shoujo Pearl was instructing with a soothing tone. “The giant snake is being dealt with as we speak. Once the coast is clear, you will be allowed to return to your classes.”

Sasuke sighed quietly from his spot at the corner table, resting his chin atop his interlaced fingers. It had been almost fifteen minutes, and lunch was nearly over - yet half the school was acting like an earthquake warning had sounded.

“I wonder what we did this week,” Shikamaru drawled from beside him. “I don’t think the Snake has attacked us for at least a few.”

The dark-haired boy shrugged. “Maybe it’s because of Naruto’s forty-two on yesterday’s quiz.”

“C’mon, teme, I doubt that snake is Oro-sensei. Wouldn’t they have fired him by now?” Naruto questioned with an irritated glare. “Besides, that was the day I got sick! You can’t blame me for that! I would’ve gotten a higher score if I had had more time.”

“And whose idea was it to drink that sketchy milk carton again?” Sasuke rebutted.

“Kiba dared me,” the blond protested. “It was a thousand easy yen!”

Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention to the windows overlooking the school’s botanical area. Much of the student body was practically glued to the windows pointed towards the rest of campus, where some girl in (admittedly a cute) black-and-white seifuku with a round ruby pinned to the front. Her helmet and visor looked almost ridiculous, but its red tint concealed much of her features.

She was either very brave or very foolish to be running at a giant snake with nothing more than her bare fists. Then again, Mahou Shoujo Pearl didn’t seem to have any weapons either.

Several boys exclaimed as she hit the trunk of the snake, and his scales practically disintegrated in the strike, revealing a fleshy belly. The beast’s roar of pain made the windows rattle dangerously.

“I wonder how much this is gonna cost the principal to repair,” Sai commented offhand, making the other three startle.

“Where did you come from?” Naruto squawked in surprise.

“I’ve been here the whole time.” The pale boy smiled that unnerving smile.

----

“Once again the day is saved,” Temari said sarcastically as the four girls walked out of homeroom.

“I hope Tsunade-sama won’t be too upset that I broke my visor…” Ino heaved a sigh. “You really came in clutch with your fan. Thanks.”

Sakura waggled her brows at Hinata. “How was your time babysitting Naruto? Hmmmm…?~”

Hinata’s face turned bright red and she cupped her hands over it.

“C’mon, you’d do the same thing with Uchiha.” Temari nudged her and grinned. “Don’t think I didn’t see how you almost spilled your strawberry milk all over yourself when he asked to sit next to you.”

It was the rosette’s turn to blush, and the other girls laughed.

“Hey,” a boy’s voice made them turn around.

Ino’s face brightened. “Sai!”

“Hey, Creepy,” Temari greeted, hands stuffed into her skirt pockets. “What’s up?”

“Naruto was wondering if you would like to stop at the arcade after school.” He paused, gaze sweeping over the others. “All of you are invited.”

“O- oh.” Hinata poked her fingers together. “I would love to, but my father needs me to come straight home.”

“A pity,” the boy agreed mildly. “What about you, Yamanaka-san, Haruno, Temari?”

“I told you already; my last name is Sho,” the sandy-haired girl interrupted.

“We would love to,” Ino confirmed, linking her arm with Sakura’s. “Right? Sakura?”

“I guess.” The girl smiled. “I haven’t hung out with Naruto for a while.” Turning to Hinata, she added, “Want me to get you a souvenir?”

She ducked her head. “If you want to.”

“Excellent. I’ll tell the others that you’re coming.” Without another word, he turned and strolled away.

“I never actually said I’d go,” Temari muttered irritably.

“Yeah, but he said the others will be going. That means Shikamaru.” Ino flashed her a teasing grin. “Besides, I think he’d tease you more if you didn’t go.”

“I guess.” She heaved a sigh and folded her arms.

“Today has been quite the day…” Hinata stretched, a delicate yawn escaping.

“I’ll say,” Principal Tsunade’s voice made the four jump in surprise. The tall woman stepped out from the staff room with a hand on her hip, a solemn expression on her face. “Step in, girls. We have a lot to discuss.”

#sasusaku month 2023 #pre relationship #magical girl au #high school au #one sided pining #background inosai #background naruhina #mild violence mention

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talesofsonicasura · 2 years ago

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Dancer of Destiny

Yup! Another Trollhunters AU but with a rather delightful twist when it comes to Jim. There are gonna be two flavors: one human and one full troll! I can forget the dash of Monster Hunter inspiration either. Don't need to know about MH for this as I'm keeping it simple and limited.

Trolldancer

A seven year old Jim begins having very strange yet very real dreams of another world. One where monsters and people unlike anything he ever seen tend to collide. Jim is taken in by a Monster Hunter by the name of Val'tah Choso alongside his monster ward Buena, a Will o' Wisp Magnamalo. (Old drawing)

In the waking world, he lives a normal life with his mother and friend completely unaware about what happens when he sleeps. Jim learns to dance under Val'tah's tutelage upon discovering his caretaker's personal hobby but also former dream. Although the lessons of monster hunting doesn't fail to sink its claws when the young boy turns 13.

Nor the domino effect when Jim soon learns about the world underneath his feet but also his dreams hold more influence than he thought. Sometimes a dance can change destiny just like any blade.

Jim isn't the Trollhunter but he will assist them whether it be Kanijar or someone else. Young Lake bears magic that is tied to not only the dances he was taught but also his experiences in the Monster Hunter world. I will tell you at least two parts of Jim's magic.

Offensive Style which is summoning weapons and armor he acquired to apparitions based on monsters he fought to his aid. When it comes to his apparitions, think of Bending from ATLA mixed with ROTTMNT Raphael's magic in how they operate. If the monster has an element or specific nature such as being venomous, then his apparition shall have that same ability.

Wild Style can cause various effects such as empower allies, debuff enemies, healing or even change the weather. It just depends on what he performs especially if it encompasses a monster.

Example: Scarlet Feast, Malzeno

-Every successful attack drains bits of the victims' strength and heal Jim. Any beneficial boosts can also be stolen. Once a certain amount of damage is done, "Bloodening" mode triggers boosting Jim's power and speed for a short time.

Jim's unique magic definitely put him in the line of fire during one earlier clash between the Kanijar and Bular(not the canon battle.) Something that leads to him being called 'Trolldancer' as his current clothing made him look like a troll from a distance. Trust me when I say both sides are looking for Jim and it drags the dancer's companions into the madness too.

Protector of Dancing Souls

A mysterious crystal gives life to a troll whelp immune to sunlight. He is raised by a mysterious tribe of Felynes and given the name Avalon. (I couldn't resist a Troll Jim being raised by cats, well, cat based monsters).

He learned not only from his tribe but also the people he tends to spy on, especially hunters. Avalon took the role of a protector, at first leading others to safety until an encounter with a dangerous monster gave him reason to fight. This earned him the Monster name 'Petronion, Dancer of Souls' and the Fanged Beast classification amongst the hunting world.

On one fateful day, a teenage Avalon crashes into Arcadia, badly injured from a fight with a dangerous unknown monster. (10 years before the events of the show.) He is found by Barbara and nursed back to health while given the name Jim. Ends up meeting Toby two weeks after his arrival as the child had a scheduled visit the nurse accidentally forgot.

Over the years, both help the misplaced troll become accustom to this new world and he shares his knowledge in return. It isn't much longer before one midnight run goes wrong as Jim encounters a battle between two certain trolls. Remember that our troll boy has no knowledge about what he is nor if there are more like him.

Jim only interferes when Bular's temperament marks him as a major threat and chases him off. He flees before Kanijar could stop the young troll who is facing an existential crisis. Everything Jim knows about himself has been flipped on its head and now he struggles to understand his origins.

It doesn't help when certain Trollmarket denizens seek out the clearly young troll before the Gumm Gumm Prince with his forces find him first. Or for Jim's new family to get dragged into the crossfire.

Now the young troll doesn't have a human disguise and it'll probably take halfway through the first maybe second season before he gets one. Jim uses the Dance of the Ancient Phantom, Chameleos, to wander Arcadia without being seen. Like his human counterpart, his magic functions the same way.

-Makes the wielder invisible for long periods of time unless hit. Jim can create thick mist to shroud his form and even forge poison clouds.

He often uses this to spy on people, wander around, observe Barbara at her job or follow Toby in school. Jim may have tripped his human friend's bullies and mother's harsh coworkers. He is quite protective of people he sees as kin. A lean yet firm body type, similar to Angor Rot albeit with more muscle, makes stealth stupid easy.

Also I can't resist imagining this particular Troll Jim being horrified to learn that trolls like to eat cats. He was essentially raised by cat people so the idea would probably make him hurl. Jim definitely bonded with Toby over the whole feline topic in general.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you back in Arcadia!

#tales of sonicasura #sonicasura #dancer of destiny au #tales of arcadia trollhunters #trollhunters au #toa trollhunters #trollhunters #toa #tales of arcadia #james lake junior #james lake jr #jim lake jr #jim lake junior #troll jim #troll!jim #mentioned fandoms #monster hunter

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darkmatter-nebula · 2 years ago

Note

Martha, Hettie and the members of the Healing Coven are horrified when Colli is attacked by Belos and the Puritan says in a small voice of mock panic what the fragile Healing Coven will do since it doesn't have any other kind of magic, but his face changes when the Healing Coven draw their hidden daggers and spears

Good morning! Thank you for the request!

This takes place after my "Lost But Now Found" AU One-Shot for For The Future "The New Family Member". Let's just say, Belos tries to possess Colli again.

Drabble: Don't Mess With The Healing Coven, Belos!

"What are you gonna do, huh? You are all just healers!" The former Emporer said mockingly as he noticed the very pissed expressions of Hettie, Martha and more members of the Healing Coven. They weren't amused as Belos attacked Colli.

The small starboy with otherworldly fluffy lavender hair and a heart of gold was frozen in fear as Belos tried to possess him again. The immortal and eternal child's body was trembling. "You better leave him alone, Belos!" Martha spoke up.

As soon as Martha had said that, she drew a very pointy spear. The horned woman was determined to protect Colli. Same for Hettie, who was holding two daggers. Belos decided to retreat for now. Soon, the goopy puritan was gone.

"Are you ok, Colli?" Martha asked softly. Colli bursted out into tears and threw himself into her arms. "Shhh, shhh. He is gone. You're safe." Martha whispered softly as she rubbed gently the celestial boy's back.

The End

#lost but now found au #the collector #emporer belos #hettie cutburn #healing coven member #fanfic

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years ago

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You Just Never Learn

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Summary: payback

Pairings: Ari X Reader X Curtis

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, D/s dynamics, DD/lg dynamics, daddy kink, orgasm denial, scratching, brat taming, mentions of punishment, mentions of bondage, fingering, pinching, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Ari & Curtis Masterlist

This is going to be a part two to this drabble...LP isn’t very happy with Curtis, so her and Ari are going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Curtis knew from the moment it was bedtime, that you were in a bratty mood. Refusing to sleep in the middle of the bed, and instead, you became the big spoon for Ari, putting him in the middle. And it wasn’t that he was upset about this. Ari was in heaven. Your fingers brushing through his soft locks, while you kiss on every freckle on his suntanned back. His voice soft with complete submission to you.

Curtis only cocks up an eyebrow before he ghosts his own lips on Ari’s front. That big daddy of yours could not help but to whimper at the love and care the two of you give to his body. It was good, because he was left whining towards the end of your session.

Your police daddy angry at the pictures, videos, and voice memos that Ari had sent him, denied both of you an orgasm. While neither one of you used the magic words, you still need gentle and soft to come back down. No one needed it more than Ari. He sometimes struggled to get out of sub space, so the extra care that you and Curtis gave him, left him to peacefully start drifting to sleep.

When the soft snores echo off his lips, you press and hold your own against his warm skin. “Little One, you want to wake Ari up because you’re riding me?”

“No. I’m tired. My body got worked up. And Ari is being such a sweet boy, let him sleep.”

That is not the answer he was hoping for, but it gave you satisfaction in knowing that. Just so he knows that you’re not really angry with him, you whisper out, “I love you, Daddy,” leaning your body over Ari’s on to give him a soft kiss to his lips. Reaching over your thick daddy, you wiggle your fingers at Curtis, and he grabs your hand in his own.

“Love you, too, Little One.”

Tomorrow was a new day. Curtis being the early riser, already had the kids up and ready for school, by the time you stir awake. Still clinging to Ari’s broad back, but this time he had rolled over on his belly. Slinging a leg over him, you straddle that juicy ass of his, and start drawing a heart on his back. Adding more pressure with your fingernails, just to see a reddened mark adorn his skin.

“Princess, what cha doin?”

“Making Curtis jealous.”

He snorts, and bumps his ass into you, causing a shrill mewl to seep out of your throat, “How did that work for you last time?” you only shrug, jumping off of him, when you hear the door open, and you race towards the shower, locking the door behind you. Not that it would stop either of them, but it’ll slow them down.

Curtis walks into the bedroom, that heart fresh and glowing on Ari’s back, “What the hell is that?”

“Our wife loves me the mostest,” his morning chuckle raspy as he turns over to look at him. “You pissed her off. Made her weak, and didn’t give her any D. I heard you, she didn’t even want to ride you last night. She’s mad jealous when she doesn’t get to touch or be touched. Have fun with that.”

Ari stands to stretch, while Curtis is left wondering how he’s going to fix this. Ponders the situation while he makes the bed, and then has to bite his lip when you emerge from the bathroom, completely nude. Paying him little to no mind, when you leave the bedroom. “I don’t even get a good morning? We’re gonna play this game all day, until night, right?”

He follows you into the kitchen where you jump on the counter, watching Ari as he makes a simple breakfast for the three of you. As soon as he gets close enough you grab at his hand and place it at your soaked core, giving a devilish smirk to Curtis.

“I get punished and Ari gets to touch you, am I correct?” you nod your head at him, pushing Ari’s fingers into your warm wet heat, letting out a lewd moan, and putting on a show for Curtis. “Did you miss the part where you and Ari started this?” you only offer up a shrug to him.

“You’re not going to talk to me?” you shake your head no, using Ari’s hand to pump his fingers into you. “And, what will make you talk to me? You two brats are the ones that teased me first.”

Pulling Ari’s fingers out of you, you curl your finger towards Curtis. Extending Ari’s beefy digits for Curtis to suck on. Both of them moaning; Curtis because of your taste, and Ari because of Curtis’ talented tongue. “Am I having dessert before breakfast?” you shake your head no again, and jerk Ari’s fingers away from Curtis. This time Ari doesn’t need your assistance. “Tell me what it is I have to do?”

“Ari and I gave you a gift. Your own personal porn. A spank bank of your husband and wife, so you didn’t have to go looking up porn that pale in comparison.”

“Oh, I see. The two of you gave me a gift, and I repay you, by punishing you?” pouting up at him, you nod. Curtis takes a few steps towards you, closing the gap, and adds his own two fingers to your cunt. Stretching it out in the most delightful way, while both your daddies finger you. His eyes flutter closed at the sound of your pussy, watching your juices leak out of you. “So what is it that I have to do?”

“I want you tied up. Ari and I will pleasure each other, but do you a kindness of allowing us to touch you. Your hands tied up, you can’t touch us. You think you’ll like me sucking your balls while Ari sucks your cock? Or maybe me ride your thigh, and Ari can fuck your face? Or do you want Ari fucking me, while I suck your cock? Decisions, decisions, Daddy. Not that you really deserve it, after what you put me and Ari through. Both of us with blue balls.”

“Is that what that was?” you raise up an eyebrow at him, and he responds by pressing a thumb to your neglected clit. “How about you get off on our fingers, and get ready for work.”

“Curtis,” you give him a whine, “I want you submissive.”

“Not today Little One. We don’t have the time. Get off on your daddies’ fucking fingers, before Ari burns the bacon. And then your bratty little ass will get ready for work. I don’t negotiate with brats. I’ll be submissive when I damn well please. We’ve talked about this, you earn submission, you don’t demand it,” your eyes roll back in your head at the timbre of his voice. Gruff and raspy, feeling it all the way into your core. “Now, be a good girl, and cum.”

Bucking up a moment, refusing to give him what he wants. Your body trying so desperately to cave and give in. You whimper trying to hold back. Your skin sticky and heated, and Curtis flicks his head towards Ari. The both of them grabbing a tit with their free hand, and sliding down to the nipple. Gripping the sensitive buds tight, and he growls again, “Cum!”

“Daddy,” your voice weak, but you can’t hold back anymore. Your walls clench around the two of their fingers, and you slump forward, pressing your head against Curtis’ shoulder.

“Ari, finish the bacon. I’m going to give her a few spankings before I get her dressed. You just never learn, Little One.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #dau #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #curtis everett #curtis everett smut #ari levinson x reader #curtis everett x reader #ari x reader x curtis #curtis x reader x ari #the daddies x little princess #daddies x lp #sinday

197 notes · View notes

alluremin · 4 years ago

Text

catch 22

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: fwb to lovers , college!au | fluff, smut, light angst

warnings: explicit sex; oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration w/o protection, dirty talk, light dom x sub themes, candid sex talk, jimin is a player, jungkook is a frat boy

premise: you and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

word count: 7.2k

At this time of night, you know you should expect to see his eyes following every movement your body makes. It was like you two were magnets of opposite charges, always attracted to one another regardless of how much your substance of choice was affecting your decisions. It’s bound to happen, almost as if by fate.

It was a beautifully toxic connection you shared with him; a vicious cycle comprised of sex, weed, booze, and good music, never in any particular order.

When you glance to the corner of the room surrounded by a hazy cloud of euphoria, the boy in question pulls himself at attention, elbows on his knees, wavy hair falling in front of his eyes. They bore holes into your own as if to say I’m waiting for you to join me, sweetheart.

Who were you to say no to that?

You know the power you have over him and consequently, every movement you make is intentional; your pivot from the makeshift dance floor, the sway of your hips with every step, the way you push your hair over your shoulder, and the smirk you give him when his eye contact fails to break with your own. The mix of alcohol and marijuana in your body makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion, in the best way possible.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

No hesitation ran through your body as you sit in his lap and take the joint from his hands. “I was wondering when you’d come back from your stage, tiny dancer,” he teases.

“Oh please, Guk, don’t act like you weren’t enjoying the show,�� you smirk at him, taking a drag from the stick in your hands. Next to the two of you, Yoongi scoffs at your banter and takes the joint from you.

Once your hands are free from the vice, it opens your fingers up to run your hands down the length of Jungkook’s torso.

“Oh, believe me, I was. That doesn’t mean I didn’t feel jealous when everybody else got to see the show too, though.” A fake pout takes over his features. One of his hands travels downward from its grip on your waist to settle on the hem of your emerald dress. “Is this new?” His stare is obvious at the space where your dress meets your thigh.

“Mhm, I picked it up a few days back. Like it?” The smirk is evident in your voice, not like you’re trying to hide it. The garment had accomplished its job: make your flavor of the month drool.

His gaze slowly leaves your smooth thigh and reaches your eyes, his hands still toying with the edge of the fabric. “I know what you’re doing tonight.”

You feign innocence, “Oh? What am I doing?”

“Seducing me... As if you need to.” He laughs at your fake pout, taking the hand that hadn’t snaked back around your waist to run softly along your lips. He leans in until your foreheads meet. “It’s working, by the way.”

You don’t answer, instead, you close the small gap between your lips.

“Jesus, you two, just go upstairs already,” Yoongi groans, pushing at your knees.

Jungkook giggles into the kiss, and for a second the little cloud of lust surrounding the two of you dissipates. A little pang hits your heart just then, as you break your kiss from the boy below you.

If you had met under different circumstances, maybe the feelings you had brewing in your chest for Jungkook would be less offensive. But you were just a hookup, a weekend bed partner. Nothing more, nothing less. You pushed them aside and stood before offering Jungkook your hands. He grabs them without hesitation, and suddenly the lust is restored.

You follow the familiar path you’ve found yourself traveling every weekend for months. The fraternity’s house was a maze, but you knew it like the back of your hand, and you couldn’t find it in you to feel shame about it. You drag the boy behind you without a single glance backward. You didn’t need to, knowing his eyes didn’t leave your ass the whole time giving you the boost of confidence you crave.

When you reach his bedroom at the end of the hallway, Jungkook wastes no time spinning your body and pressing you hard into the door. The impact of his lips against yours pulls a mewl from your throat, your body keening against his in desperation. He responds by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

By now, the two of you had a routine, and the way you moved was almost like a dance; his arms sliding under to lift you, his spin in route to his bed, your grip in the hair at the base of his skull.

His body follows yours downward when he drops you on his sheets, never breaking the connection of your lips. “You don’t waste time anymore, huh, Gukkie?”

He sucks his teeth at the nickname, and attacks your neck, drawing a moan from you.

“And you still act like you’re going to be in charge, but we both know that's not true, is it, princess?” You blush at his words.

Of course, he was in charge, but he has yet to realize that the brattier you act, the more you get exactly what you want. You wondered how many more drunken hookups it would take for him to catch onto your game.

His hands quickly reach down to pull his t-shirt over his head, and you never get tired of the view that meets you when he does. The small waist, bulky chest, defined abs, and tattoos covering the expanse of his left side - it should be illegal to look as sinful as he does hovering over you. Jungkook proved that God does have favorites.

You sit up on your knees quickly to pull your dress over your head and don’t miss the small gasp that leaves the man in front of you. Forgoing underwear this evening seemed like the right choice, and this moment proves that for you.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Jungkook’s hand traces down your subtle curves before pulling your kneeling form against his own. You don’t miss the way the cold metal of his belt feels on your lower stomach, the anticipation building in your body for what’s about to happen.

As his mouth moves toward yours, just before they meet, you whisper, “Is that a promise?”

That’s all it took for him to finally snap.

Before you know it, you’re on your back and his head is between your legs. With the drugs and alcohol flowing through your system, every movement his lips make against your inner thighs feels like fire. You’re just about to sit up and groan at his avoidance of your center when he wraps his lips around your clit like his life depends on it.

Your head flies back to hit the pillow beneath it and you swear the coil in your stomach already begins to twist. Jungkook had a lot of things he could brag about. The top three? His body, his voice, and his devilish tongue, in all of its glory.

His mouth continues its assault on your bud, one of his hands reaching underneath to insert two fingers into your aching center.

“Fuck, Guk,” you moan. He hums, sending a vibration through your core. You were embarrassingly close to cumming. It was like you were under his spell.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers,” his voice drips with honey. The low tone was enough to push you over the edge. You saw stars behind your eyes and euphoria washed over your entire body. “That’s my girl.”

You don’t miss the sweet comment in your bliss, choosing to not think about it too much so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

Jungkook crawls upward and crashes his lips onto yours as your hands expertly undo his belt and the buttons of his jeans. He leans back on his legs to assist you in ridding himself of the last pieces of clothing that separate the two of you, breaking the seal of your lips and looking at you with a gaze that made you stop breathing for a moment.

It’s not like this was the first time you’ve seen him naked, far from it, but he never failed to take away your breath. If a human could be perfect, you’re sure it would be him.

He wastes no time in coming back to you, lips on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in and his pretty eyes screw shut at the feeling. “Fuck, always so tight for me, baby girl.”

Your ego only has a second to absorb his compliment before your own senses are overtaken by the pleasure between your legs. “Give me a second, Guk, you’re so big,” you say as seductively as you can manage, but you know your words come out as more of a whine.

He only smirks before his lips work their magic against your neck. His tongue licks at the spot below your ears before he bites and tugs at your earlobes. Aside from his dominating personality in bed, Jungkook’s soft side for you always showed through, always waiting for permission, always putting your comfort first.

You nod your head in a gesture for him to continue.

There was no build-up to his bruising pace. As soon as you feel the grip of one hand on your waist and the other under your shoulder you know you’re not going to be able to walk straight the next day. His hips snap against yours, and with the angle of your legs, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

His mouth finds yours again, but the way he kisses you juxtaposes the way he’s fucking you in force and feeling. Jungkook’s lips are soft and sweet against yours, perfectly contrasting the hard thrusts from his hips. The combination alone draws a string of uncontrollable moans from your throat, one particularly hard thrust prompts you to scream his name.

“Shh, baby, I don’t want to get shit from the other guys anymore,” he pushes two of his fingers into your mouth. You moan again at their intrusion and happily accept them, not missing your opportunity to look at him with innocence in your eyes as you suck on the digits.

“Fuck.” He pulls his mouth from your fingers and before you can blink, he has you flipped onto your stomach. He lifts your hips a little to place a pillow underneath, and pushes himself back inside of you, all so quickly that you hadn’t even taken a breath before he was thrusting into you again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the new angle. Jungkook drapes his body over you as he fucks into you from behind, using his tattooed hand to move your hair from your face. The same hand takes the liberty to wrap around your throat with the pressure he knows you like. When you smile at the feeling, he can’t help but kiss the corner of your mouth.

If only you knew the effect you had on him matched the one he had over you.

“Touch yourself for me, princess,” he whispers in your ear and you swear you’ve never moved faster; it was almost as if your movement were involuntary. His wish was your command.

“Guk, ‘m so close,” you manage to squeak out in broken breaths.

“Me too,” he groans. “Ladies first?” At that, he sits up and angles your hips higher to hit your g-spot with more force than before. In combination with your fingers working circles into your clit, the new angle is all it takes for you to come crashing down.

The man above you follows soon after, your involuntary clenching forcing him to meet his end. He quickly pulls himself out and aggressively strokes his release onto your back.

The collapse of your body causes the bed to seemingly swallow you whole. Jungkook falls directly next to you moments later. You both lay there, panting, blissed-out messes. His hand reaches up to push your hair off your face. When you make eye contact with him, you both turn into giggly messes. The current atmosphere of the room was lighthearted, contrasting the lecherous one that surrounded the two of you for most of the night.

Soon the post-sex haze fades, and you feel the sticky feeling of his release on your back and you feel dreadfully uncomfortable.

You kick your leg at the boy next to you. “Guk, towel please?”

He hums and rolls himself off the bed, somehow landing on his feet effortlessly. As he walks toward his bathroom, you admire the view. Who were you to deny yourself the simple pleasure of staring at his ass, if the opportunity presented itself?

He uses the towel to wipe the stickiness from your skin. His gentleness would surprise you, based on how different it was from how he approached sex, but you’ve been seeing Jungkook for a little over two months now. He had a surprisingly sweet demeanor. The towel is quickly discarded and you hum as you sit up.

“Thank you,” you giggle at him before standing up and heading toward the bathroom, not forgetting to retrieve your crumpled dress from the floor.

“Hey, are you going home?” Jungkook asks quickly when he notices the garment hanging from your hand.

“Um, I was thinking about it. Why?” You say hesitantly while you stand at the threshold of the bathroom, you suddenly feel shy under his gaze. An indiscernible look passes through his eyes at your words.

“I just… I can take you back if you want me to. Or... I mean, only if you want to… you could stay here. Maybe?”

This was new to you. You’ve never seen Jungkook look so unsure of himself. Normally, the picture of confidence personified, the frat boy in the bed before you looks small, almost timid. You could feel your heart doing backflips at his proposal.

It wasn’t the first time you and Jungkook had spent the night together, but that was normally only when you two were both too incapacitated to operate a car. This feels different, somehow; if it was because you started to realize how you feel about Jungkook, you aren’t sure.

But what you were sure of was that you could never say no to him. You wordlessly make your way back to the bed and curl up in his arms. If nothing else, you can feel his love for the night and move on with your day by morning. As the end of another cycle draws near, you silently hope it will begin again, as it always does. Jungkook, as he holds you against his chest, is the last thing on your mind when you drift asleep.

You suspect he’s going to take up a permanent residence in there, no matter how much you try to avoid it.

The next morning, you wake up before Jungkook. After dreaming of him all night, you’re absolutely terrified by the prospect of being there when he wakes up.

There was no fear that he would stir with your movements about his room as you collect all of your things. He slept like a rock and you’re pretty sure that not even a tornado, hurricane, or any other apocalypse-causing natural disaster could wake him up in the morning.

You sneak out of his bedroom wearing his massive t-shirt and a pair of boxers he had lent you before you fell asleep last night. The door clicks shut and of course, Yoongi’s bedroom door across the hall is wide open as you’re leaving.

The shit-eating grin on his face is enough to convey his amusement at the situation before him. He raised his hands to his forehead and salutes you, prompting your middle finger to raise and give him a salute of your own.

You don’t give him enough time to make a comment to you about the clothes before scurrying to the stairs. You sit on the top steps and hastily slide on your boots. Thankfully you chose the chunky Doc knockoffs in lieu of the heels you were originally planning. You were already obviously doing the walk of shame, at least you had decent shoes to do it in to keep a sliver of your dignity.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you note the state of the party room on your way to the front door. It looks like a booze-filled bomb had gone off; there were red solo cups covering the floor and the smell of alcohol hit you squarely in the face. You quicken your pace because if you stay any longer, you could see yourself getting violently ill.

The sun nearly burns your eyes out of your head when you open the door. You have to take a second to adjust to the light before you can move down the front steps. The cul-de-sac where all the frat houses resided was in a similar state to what you saw inside. Finals week was over and everybody took the opportunity to celebrate it.

Your phone starts vibrating in the small clutch in your hand when you reach the sidewalk. The name on the screen pulls a groan from your throat, you were too hungover to be berated right now.

“You’re lucky I have your location, otherwise I would kill your stupid ass for leaving me to wonder where you went last night,” Jimin’s smirk was evident through the phone.

“Should I really have to tell you when we’re in Jungkook’s fraternity where I’m going to end up when the night ends?” You quip back at him and he giggles at you.

“When are you coming home? Last I checked you were still there.” You hear shuffling on his end of the line and you suspect that he’s just now getting out of bed himself.

You pull your phone away from your face quickly and realize it’s almost noon. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was that late. I’m walking back now, I’ll be home in a minute.” You don’t wait for his response before hanging up.

It was moments like this that you were glad your apartment was only a street over from the fraternity village. When you and Jimin had scouted out your place, it was solely for the price and quality that you chose it. Your proximity to your campus’s party central was an added bonus.

It’s comical the way Jimin stands on the balcony with his sunglasses on and his hip popped to the side. You can’t help but stop at the door to your building and laugh at him.

“I thought shackers were supposed to be out by 11?” He asks cheekily.

“Oh please, when you find some poor girl to share your time with, I go whole weekends without seeing you!”

His jaw drops in feigned offense, but he says nothing. He breaks the character with a chuckle and reenters your apartment, you do the same. When you reach the second story, your hand doesn’t even make it to the doorknob before your roommate pulls it open. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you through the door.

“You can shower when you tell me what happened last night. We weren’t even there for an hour before you disappeared.” He spins you by your shoulders to sit you on the couch.

To anybody on the outside, Jimin and your relationship was odd, but you made it work. Two years ago, you and he had met at a party, shamelessly flirted, kissed, and immediately recoiled. Kissing Jimin felt wrong, and he shared your sentiment in that regard. From then on though, you and he had been thick as thieves, attached at the hip, and any other expression that conveyed best-friendship. You two told each other everything, including anecdotes about your sex life, which is usually the point at which any outsider to your relationship got uncomfortable with your candidness.

“What can I say, Jimin, I went there for one purpose and I very quickly got exactly what I wanted.” You giggle, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re hoping he didn’t catch it.

Of course, though, the boy above you knew you like the back of his hand. Nothing you could do or say at this point would stop the quizzical look in his eyes. “Spill, Y/N.”

You dropped your head and rubbed the back of your neck before you dramatically threw yourself into the back of the couch. “I think I’m starting to like him,” you admit, with as little emotion as you can muster. You don’t know why, but the urge to cry right now is strong. You toss the feelings back into the deep abyss that is your subconscious before they can take over.

“Woah, hey!” He drops onto the couch beside you with concern in his eyes. “It’s time to run. We don’t do feelings for people in this house, were young, out-of-control college kids remember. We don’t have time for that.”

“I know, Jimin, but he’s so addicting. Like one minute he is drilling me into the mattress and the next he’s kissing my cheek and telling me how pretty I am. It makes my brain go to mush!”

“Damn, he’s good.”

“Jimin,” you warn. The look in your eyes tells him to watch his words carefully.

“Alright, in all seriousness, you know what kind of guy he is. I’m honestly surprised that you’ve slept with him for this long. I don’t remember the last time you’ve kept a guy around for longer than a couple of weeks.”

It was true. It sounded worse than it was, you would go through bursts of “uncontrollable horniness” as Jimin called it. You could go months without having sex, but then you would find a guy to sleep with for a couple of weeks until you got bored or he tried to cuff you, then you would cut it off and move into another dry spell. It was unconventional sure, but it worked for you. Jimin only had so much room to make fun of you for it, he was a certified man-whore.

“I don’t know, dude. I know I should stop because I can feel myself getting attached to him, but I just… I don’t want to.” You groan at your situation. Why did you have to pick the most perfect human on the planet as your booty call?

“Which is exactly why you need to stop. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, babe, but I doubt he shares yours.” You only nod at his statement and stare blankly at the ceiling.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before he pats your thigh and stands up. “C’mon smelly, go take a shower, you smell like dick,” Jimin grins at you and reaches out his hand to drag you off the couch.

You half-heartedly laugh at him and take his hand. He pushes you toward your bathroom before going back to the kitchen to make the two of you something to eat.

The person staring back at you in the mirror looks like she’s been hit by a train. There’s mascara smeared under your eyes and your hair closely resembles a bird’s nest. While you’re rubbing the makeup from your eyes with a wipe, your phone vibrates on the counter next to you.

*12:13 pm*

Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

You ignore the text and strip before hopping into the shower. Silently, you hope that the scalding water will burn last night from your memory.

“Damn, was your shower long enough? I thought I was going to have to send a rescue party in there,” Jimin teases as you step out of your bathroom.

“The only way to kill the diseases you pick up in a frat house is to burn them off your skin.”

You slide into the stool at your kitchen counter as Jimin sets a mug of your favorite tea and waffles in front of you. You thank him with a smile and he only smiles back before going back to his own nearly finished plate of food.

“Do you want to talk about it some more?” Jimin asks you, and for a second you consider playing dumb as to the subject he’s referring to, but you know it won’t work.

“I honestly don’t know. Ask me later?”

He nods and grabs your hand from across the counter, sending you a wink. “You got it.”

It’s when you’re bingeing a new show with Jimin later that evening that you remember you never bothered to answer Jungkook. Your phone on the coffee table was now pulling your attention completely away from the murder docu-series on the TV. Jimin is engrossed with the show and pays very little attention when you grab the device from the table.

When you unlock your screen, the little number icon hovering next to your messages alerts you to how much you’ve neglected your phone today. You open the app and scroll through, reading the various messages left for you by friends and family. Thankfully, all were unimportant, usually, just funny pictures or links that they thought you would find amusing.

You’re giggling at a message from your mom about your dog back home when you back out of the conversation and notice the only unread message was the one you had been avoiding since the early afternoon.

(12:13 pm) Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

You debate just ignoring it altogether and just dealing with it the next time you saw him. That would be soon enough, considering that summer break was here and you knew that he wouldn’t be going home as most college students do. You decide against that. At the very least you want to keep him on your good side, you had never ignored him for this long. While your text conversations weren’t the most thrilling, the small bit of connection was enough to keep the two of you on the same page. At each other’s beck and call, that was.

(10:41 pm) You: i left around noon! i didn’t want to wake you up. i’ll bring your clothes back soon

You locked your screen after sending the message and returned your attention to the screen. That was indifferent enough, right?

Not even thirty seconds after you sent the message, the device vibrates on the couch next to you and you’re embarrassed at how quickly you scramble to pick it up. You look across the couch at your roommate, and he’s staring right back at you.

“Did he text you?” He asks, almost nonchalantly, but you pick up on a little bit of something in his voice. Disapproval, maybe?

For any of his faults, Jimin more than makes up for it in the way he cares about you like a sister. It’s almost as if he can sense that you’re probably going to get hurt by a stupid frat boy.

“Uh, yeah. But I’m just asking him when he’s free so I can drop his clothes off. That’s all,” you quickly reply and you silently applaud yourself for the steadiness of your voice. He has a look in his eyes that says he wants to say more on the subject, but he doesn’t. Instead, he chooses to only nod and return his attention back to the screen. He grabs onto your calves the are slung across him in a silent gesture: I’m here for you, always.

(10:42 pm) Gukkie: Don’t worry about it! I’m sure I’ll see you soon ;)

(10:43 pm) You: something tells me you’re right about that

(10:43 pm) Gukkie: Maybe you could swing by tomorrow, sometime? I’ll be at the house all day so you can drop the clothes off

Right, as if you would only drop off his clothes and leave.

(10:44 pm) You: sure, i’ll talk to you tomorrow !

(10:44 pm) Gukkie: Sleep tight, princess :)

You don’t sleep.

You’re pacing back and forth with Jungkook’s clothes in your hand, debating whether or not to ding dong ditch and leave them on his porch. Last night, what very little sleep you did get was plagued by dreams of the curly-haired frat boy down the road. The feelings you felt for him are surprisingly strong, considering you just realized you really did like him. Maybe they had been building up for a while and when you allowed yourself to accept them, they hit you harder.

Regardless of why they were so pervasive was lost on you, but there was no denying their presence. You could feel anxious hies rising up your neck at the thought of facing Jungkook.

On one hand, you’re dealing with the excitement about seeing his cute bunny smile and inevitably, his sculpted body, if this visit turned into how you suspected it would. On the other hand, you’re terrified. Every time you spend your time with Jungkook, those feelings are probably only going to grow.

This would be the last time with him, you decide before you walk out of your apartment building. You already know that there is no way you could say no to him, so if he decided that he wanted to have sex with you today, that’s exactly what was going to happen. It’s not like you don’t want to. You’d be a fool to turn down sex with him, but you fear the way it made you feel. After Saturday night, it was obvious that you felt more than the normal, post-sex happiness when you were with him.

His fraternity’s house comes into view, the parking lot nearly empty signaling that most of his brother’s had gone home for the summer. His car and Yoongi’s remained, among a few others. You roll your eyes seeing the elder’s vehicle, knowing that he was going to tease you either on your way in or out.

You hesitate a little at the front door, unsure if you should knock or just walk in. Strangely enough, in the two months you had been sleeping with Jungkook, you had never been to the house during the day.

You don’t get to think about how odd it is seeing the brick building during the day when the door opens and the boy who’s been haunting your dreams beams at you with his infuriatingly adorable smile.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. “Here are your clothes… I washed them.” You thrust the clothes forward into his hand.

He runs his free hand through his hair and snickers. “Thanks, you didn’t have to wash them.”

“It’s no problem!” You say a little too eagerly and you’re slapping yourself for it.

“Are you going to come in or just stand there and stare at me?” He asks you with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” you say as you brush past him and walk into the house. You don’t bother looking back at him as you follow the path up to his bedroom, knowing he’s following you, as he always does.

You’re not sure when the rain started, but the sounds were lulling you into a peaceful afternoon slumber. Jungkook’s bedsheets were always clean, unlike most of the guys you slept with. The soft fabric against your naked body, mixed with the soft light and sounds from the weather outside, gave you a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in the last 48 hours.

Your head is turned toward the window, eyes shut. It wasn’t that you were necessarily avoiding looking at Jungkook, lately, it seemed like it was the only thing you wanted to do, but you just happened to fall in that position after the activities of the last two hours.

Jungkook is sitting on his side, resting his head on one hand as he looks out the same window. He sighs, but you have a hard time in your half-conscious state determining the meaning behind the sigh. For now, you were just content with the soft fingers he was using to draw patterns across your exposed back. You couldn’t think about much past that.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” He asks while scooting closer to you. You hum in response and turn your head to face him. He uses his hand to brush your hair away from your face, so tenderly you barely feel his fingers when they run across your cheeks. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“No, I’m awake, just resting my eyes.” You slowly open your eyes and take note of him. He has a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A pang of something akin to hurt strikes you in the heart. You realize that he’s probably trying to kick you out. It was the middle of the day and you were overstaying your welcome.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I’m probably taking up your whole day,” you sat up quickly and bend toward the foot of the bed to grab your top.

“Wait,” he rushes out and pulls you back down to lay down and face him. “Stay with me for a little bit. At least until the rain stops?”

You look down at the bedsheets below you and pick at a ball of fuzz to distract yourself. A sad smile graces your features when you look back at him. “I don’t think I should.”

“Oh… Okay,” he looks upset at that but you don’t want to think about it too long before you sit up again and put your clothes back on. When you return to the bed to grab your phone, you notice that he’s gotten himself back into a pair of basketball shorts and is watching you as you move about his space. “At least let me drive you home?”

You nod your head in agreement and smile at him. “Thank you.”

The walk to the door and following dash to his car through the rain is silent between the two of you. Luckily, though you know he was lurking somewhere, you didn’t have to face Yoongi. It was the small victories that would take you through today.

The drive lasted less than two minutes but felt like fiver years with the awkward silence that hung around you. It was clear by your actions that this would be over after today, neither of you having to actually say the words out loud.

Jungkook pulled into the spot right in front of the door to your building. At least he wasn’t going to make you walk through the pouring rain. Hopefully, this meant that he wasn’t angry, or at the very least, his ego wasn’t bruised by your unspoken break-up, for lack of a better term.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as chipper as possible given the circumstances. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, sure… No problem.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. You noticed he does it when he’s embarrassed or feels awkward without realizing it. You were going to miss that, among many other things.

You opened the door and were about to step out into the rain when he touches your shoulder. You look at him confused. He looks confused as well, shocked at his own hand for the involuntary action.

“I-I’ll see you around?” He asks, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

“I- yeah, I’ll see you around,” you smile at him gently. He pulls his hand back like the temperature of your skin is burning his own.

You quickly jump out of the car and run up to the front of the building - to avoid as much rain as you could and to get away from the boy behind you. You don’t look back.

When you push open the door to your apartment, Jimin is sitting in the recliner and scrolling through his phone. It only takes one look at your slightly damp clothes and the tears welling up in your eyes for him to hop out of his seat and make it to you at record speed.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Jimin soothes his hand down your unruly hair as you lightly cry against his shoulder. “Did you tell him anything?”

You shake your head. What would be the point? When you and Jungkook agreed to forgo sleeping with other people and engage in a friends-with-benefits-type relationship, you both made it clear that there were to be no feelings involved. You knew he wouldn’t have changed his mind about that. The only thing to gain from sharing your feelings with him would be outright rejection, and you’d rather not deal with that.

Jimin just goes back to patting your head and rocking you lightly, not caring that your hair and clothes were getting him damp too. You don’t know what you did in a past life to be so fortunate to have him as your best friend.

You’re standing like that for quite a while before you both hear a knock at your door. You move out of the way to sit on the couch and let Jimin answer the door. The last thing you wanted the person at the door to see were your bloodshot eyes and shaggy appearance.

“Can I talk to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice startles you up off the couch. Your panicked movements draw the attention of both your roommate and the frat boy. Jimin just smiles slightly at you and moves out of the way before walking into his room. You had a feeling he would listen to the whole conversation though his door.

You walked up to the door with your head down. His breathing was ragged at as you scanned from his feet up to his eyes, you found that he was soaked. “Why are you soaked?”

“I ran here.”

“But you just drove me home?”

“Oh, I, uh, got home and forgot I was going to loan my car to one of my brother’s and then I… ran here.” He explains, but the confused look in your eye is enough to tell him that you’re not following his story whatsoever. You didn’t understand why he had to come back to your apartment, nor his urgency in doing so.

“What are you doing here?” You wish you sounded a little less sad when you said that, but you didn’t really care at this point.

“I came because I need to say something to you. I- wait have you been crying?” Jungkook steps closer to you and grabs your cheeks to look into your eyes. It takes everything in you not to melt into him and grab his hands from your cheeks.

“What did you have to tell me, Guk?” You ask him in the most even voice you can manage.

“No, Y/N answer me first, please?” Your outright rejection of his touch doesn’t stop him from running his hands up and down your arms.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice uneven as your eyes betray you and begin to well up again.

Jungkook pulls you against his body, holding you tightly against him. “Why?” He whispers the question so quietly in your ear, almost as if he raises his voice any higher you would shatter.

You take a shaky breath, deciding to just say it. “You.”

He pulls back abruptly to look you in the eyes, the confusion across his brow mixes with hurt in his eyes. “Me?”

“I like you,” you blurt out, tears slowing to a gradual drip. “But I know you don’t feel the same, so please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, but the look is still painted across his features.

“With pity.”

“Pity? I’m just confused.” He readjusts his grip on you to bring a hand back to your cheek. You can feel your heart pounding out of your chest while he forces you to look into his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just brings your face forward to crash his lips into your own. It’s different from the kisses you’ve shared in the past. The ones before filled with lust, this one was tender and intense.

“Y/N, I like you too. Why do you think I ran through the rain to get back here?” He puts his forehead against yours.

“You do?” You pull your forehead from his to meet his eyes.

“Obviously. I was going to tell you earlier but you seemed like you wanted to go home so badly, so I figured I screwed up.” He sighed, a small smile of relief on his face.

“You should’ve said it earlier then, dummy!” You playfully smacked his chest and sniffled.

“I wish I would’ve, then I wouldn’t have had to see you cry.” The hand on your cheek slips behind your head and pulls you forward so he could plant a kiss on your forehead. When he loosens his grip, you pull back to look at him.

“Would you like to come inside?” You motion behind you. Jungkook answers by kissing you back into your apartment.

He breaks apart from you once the door is shut and looks at you with a cocky grin on his face. “Wait until I rub it in Yoongi’s face that you’re my girlfriend. He said you would never say yes.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” You ask while grinning up at him. There was a lot that had to be addressed in that statement, but you decided to let it slide for a later conversation.

“Uh, yeah… Is that okay?” He looks a little insecure, realizing what that he said without asking you if you wanted that.

You just giggle at him and kiss him again. You nod into the kiss, that was growing much more heated by the second.

“And that's my cue! I’m leaving,” Jimin escapes from his room and runs out the door before either of you can blink. You both laugh at your best friend's antics.

“I’ll steal you some dry clothes from his room,” you say as you turn to walk into Jimin’s room.

Jungkook quickly grabs you from behind and kisses the spot below your ear. “Who says I need clothes?”

You turn your head to look at him and consider glaring for a second. The blinding bunny smile pointed in your direction squashes any of your ideas about reprimanding him. He kisses your cheek and runs into your bedroom, stripping off his clothes along the way. You giggle at his behavior.

“Baby! I’m naked and I’m in your bed - a little disappointed that you aren’t!”

Again, who were you to say no?

a/n: im not even sure if anybody is really active on this blog anymore, but i got bored and decided to write this! it is unedited, i dont really mind though :) this is for the people that sent me messages saying that they would want to see this once it was finished. i did write it under the influence initially (as stated previously, i am of legal age!!), so it required quite a bit of editing! sorry for the delay!

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #college!jungkook #college!bts

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arts-and-drafts · 4 years ago

Text

Linger (Hermit Tommy AU)

(A discussion about scars. This one has been in the bucket for a long time, and it's finally done! Enjoy!!)

TW: Permanent injury, bodily harm, scars, overdose mention

Tommy's in pain.

The hermits mistook his ever tense posture for wariness, his pinched expression seeming only a front to those Tommy distrusted. They hope it will ease with time, and they are patient.

They turn out to be right. Slowly, Tommy gets used to them, relaxes, smiles more and yells less.

But he's still tense, and his face still twists occasionally in what the hermits start to realize is hurt rather than intimidation after completing simple tasks like lifting shulker boxes.

It's False who notices Tommy's not right handed.

He's a damn good fighter, as dirty as his shots are and as rough his technique is. Tommy fights like his life depends on it, and in that situation there's no room for fancy footwork or skillful swordplay. But looking impressive is not a requirement for being good at PVP, and the scuffed up teenager is a prime example of that.

Tommy's scars are evidence that he just encountered someone better.

Besides his crude offensive, False notices he's also clumsy. Tommy always draws his weapon with his left, and yes, he switches to his right as soon as it's in his hand, but as sporadic as Tommy likes to be, that doesn't add up.

False sees him get jumped by a creeper, once, and in the miniscule time alloted to attack, Tommy drew and swung with his left. Instinctually.

False then sees him grimace when the creeper explodes, and he drops his weapon to knead his left shoulder. That is when it clicks.

"Tom." False tries to sound casual on break from sparring with the kid the next day, watching him carefully from her periphery while she feigns busying herself with her water bottle.

Tommy grunts in acknowledgment, and False takes a breath.

"How come you always switch to your right when you're fighting?" She treads carefully. Tommy doesn't like it when the hermits pry, and he definitely doesn't like it when they're as observant of him as False is.

Thankfully, it doesn't look like Tommy reads into the question too much. "I'm right handed." He says simply, and False knows it's a lie, but his nonchalance would absolutely fool her if she didn't know the truth.

Now is when False would normally nod, and change the subject. But Tommy's hurting, and a part of her just can't let that go.

"See, you're not." False says lightly, abandoning all pretense. Tommy tenses next to her, more than he already is.

"You draw with your left. You wouldn't do that if you were right handed. Why don't you fight like that?" False asks. She doesn't grill him on how he got hurt, or why he hides it. She's being risky enough as is with her flat-out asking, and she's not certain she'll get an answer from the kid if she pushes any further.

Tommy swallows, and his left hand flexes unconsciously. "It, uh. Hurts." Tommy says. False waits patiently.

"I got hit. There. By a Wither, y'know." Tommy continues, and False finally feels a different emotion than calm worry. Sympathy and slight horror twist in her chest, and she's thankful she doesn't need to speak so Tommy can keep talking.

But he doesn't talk, and instead pulls off his shirt in the most difficult way possible since he moves his left arm as little as he can. False's eyes widen as blackened skin is revealed, spreading over the poor kid's entire left shoulderblade and down his arm and chest, dangerously close to his heart. If False were to touch it, she'd know the skin would be cold and dead, barely hanging on to Tommy's body anymore.

False lets out a horrified breath instead, feeling as if the wind got knocked out of her lungs.

There is no cure for being withered, if you don't have milk on hand directly after a hit. Those marks stay with you for life.

But Tommy is 16. Tommy has barely started his life, and he's already bearing an injury that will last with him until the end of his time. False feels bile rise in her throat. Whether it's cause of grief or anger, she can't tell. All she knows is that Withers aren't made on accident. There is a story here.

A story she has no right to know.

"Gods, Tommy, I'm--I'm sorry." False utters helplessly, because she just doesn't know what else to say. Tommy stiffens.

"Not your fault." He says curtly, his words edged with a familiar tone of sharpness that he takes when he feels someone is taking pity on him. False scrambles to save the situation.

"Scar's had some run ins with a Wither. Impulse, too." False comments, and pretends not to see Tommy's face flicker in surprise.

"I'm sure they have some tips, if you're interested." False continues, holding back the desperation she feels with every drop of willpower she possesses to not scare Tommy off. "You'd be a much better fighter if you could use both hands." She adds gently, and a wave of relief crashes over her as Tommy's eyes light up with recognition of opportunity.

Tommy utters an eerily mischievous laugh that False can't help but smile at. "Ohhh-ho, I'm gonna be so fuckin' powerful--they call me dual blade Innit!! I'm gonna dual blade your ass!"

False laughs out loud at that, the icy horror in her chest loosening for only a moment. "Void help us." She comments sarcastically. "Go on then, see Scar first. He's got magic crystals that I hear are good to help pain."

Tommy's face flickers, so quickly that False barely sees it before it's gone. But the expression was bare exhaustion, a kind of weariness that False has never really seen before.

False could guess that Tommy's been in pain for most of his life. No wonder he's tired. No wonder he nearly overdosed on gapples for the absorption they provided when exposed to the hermit's infinite supply. No wonder he doesn't move quickly unless he has to.

Several things click into place as Tommy pulls his shirt back over his head, and the conclusion leaves a lead weight in False's gut.

It's not her business to know what happened to this boy barely old enough to attend MCC that gave him lifetimes of scars both inside and out. She knows her fellow hermits who have been her friends for years have secrets they will never share, and she's made her peace with that a long time ago. For Tommy, it's no different.

But as False watches him gingerly make his way down from the top of her base to the portal, she just wants to know why that fate was seemingly a deserving one for a child to bear.

END.

#meraki post #hermit tommy au #tw drug mention #tw injury #tw scars #fond of this one #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic #kind of

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1littleshippergirl1 · 4 years ago

Text

Teachers have lives, too

Percy/Oliver

Modern AU with magic. Teacher AU. Zoom style

Prompt 23 (I think) from my challenge: secret relationship

My first and only Percy/Oliver fic. Hope y'all enjoy it!

"What, no robes?" Oliver raised his eyebrows when Percy came out of their bedroom dressed in one of Oliver's muggle style t-shirts and casual trousers instead of strictly adhering to the dress code of wearing his teaching robes like he'd set upon himself to do since the start of online school.

"I didn't feel like it," Percy shrugged as he took a much needed gulp of tea. Swallowing, he added, "It's Friday and I doubt the kids will care."

Oliver propped himself up on the countertop by his elbows, simply adoring the way his shirt highlighted the muscles that his boyfriend was adamant didn't exist. "You're staring," Percy remarked idly.

"can't help it. You're irresistible, love."

Percy scoffed, but Oliver saw that tiny smile appear when he made to turn around. Grinning, he maneuvered around the counter to sneak his arms around the red-head's waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. "We should take the day off," he murmured into his ear. "Tell Minerva we're both sick."

"Much as I would simply love to," Percy turned to face him, "we can't and you know that." He moved away and Oliver sighed dramatically.

"Don't see why we have to keep it a secret, Perce."

Percy shrugged again. "I don't want our private life aired out for everyone. You know how nosy the kids are."

"I know how nosy Phoebe is," Oliver chuckled as Percy snorted and rolled his eyes.

Phoebe Wren was one of Hogwart's newest students, a Gryffindor and a complete and utter chatterbox. She had no qualms about asking personal questions or blurting out whatever came to mind, no matter how embarrassing it was to the other person. She was a nice enough girl, a real sweetheart but that mouth of hers needed controlling.

"Didn't she ask you to take off your shirt so she could see if that rumor about you having a tattoo was true or not?"

Percy groaned good naturedly. "Don't remind me. I've yet to figure out who even started that ridiculous rumor."

Oliver's eyes dropped and a broad, yet sheepish grin came across his face. "Well-"

Percy's jaw dropped but he was smiling as well and choked out laughter. "You didn't."

"In my defense," Oliver chuckled, "I was bored and Phoebe was willing to listen."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, spreading rumors like a third year," Percy had a sparkle of mischievousness and playfully swatted Oliver's bum.

"I should be," Oliver agreed, smiling cheekily. "But I'm not."

Percy rolled his eyes good naturedly and opened up his computer. "Quiet, now,' he ordered mildly. "I don't want her hearing you."

Phoebe had a tendency to bring up irrelevant subjects in class that had absolutely nothing to do with the lesson. Other times she was late to another class because she stayed on chat with Percy to talk about anything and everything she wholeheartedly believed he needed to know. So, being that she was in his first hour of the day, he let her get on early so she could get everything out of the way ahead of time.

In a very unPrecy like manner, he curled up on the couch, with his feet facing one way and the computer resting on his lap. He clicked on Zoom, waiting for his students to sign on. In the meantime, Oliver moved Percy's legs, raising them up a bit and sat down, laying them on top of his upper thighs. The redhead raised his eyebrows but his boyfriend merely smiled innocently.

He didn't buy it one bit.

Oliver began to gently rub Percy's legs, massaging them. The redhead would be lying if he said it didn't feel good. "I know what you're trying to do," Percy closed his eyes.

"I'm just giving you a massage, love," Oliver momentarily passed, grabbing Percy's hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Quiet, Percy mouthed as Phoebe's window screen popped up. Immediately, red came into his vision. A bright red. She'd dyed the ends of her hair red with some muggle beverage. Today, she wore her hair in two knots on top of her head with the end pieces sticking upward for the world to see. She beamed as soon as she saw him, bouncing in her chair. He couldn't help but smile back. She was contagious in that aspect.

"Hello, Professor Weasley!"

"Hello, Phoebe," he said, warmly. "I trust you had a good weekend?"

"oh, yes! Unless you count my mum's mood swings. I think she's going through menopause."

"I see," Percy said as he noticed Oliver trying not to laugh and waved him off for it.

"Your mum's still around, right? Is she going through menopause, too?"

That was just something he preferred not to think about. "Remember what I said about asking inappropriate questions?"

"Yes," she nodded, more like bobbed her head up and down. "But it's not like I asked something personal."

"Actually-"

"Professor Weasley, how old are you?"

"Excuse me?" Percy raised his eyebrows.

"You're like thirty five, right?"

Percy spluttered indignantly. Oliver was laughing in one of the couch pillows to keep from being heard. "I'm not even thirty yet!"

"Really?"

"Yes," he said shortly.

"Woooow. Talk about being unlucky."

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. He loved his job....he loved his job....he loved his students....

His thoughts were broken through by an excited squeal. "Oh my gosh! You should totally let me give you a makeover! I read this magazine and I can totally make you look twenty."

"As kind as that is," Percy lied through his teeth, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

She pouted.

Percy inwardly sighed in relief when the rest of the class popped up. They said their hello's and he allowed the kids a few minutes to talk before he dove into the lesson. All the while, Oliver had a free period so he stayed where he was, poking and touching Percy. First it was his knees, drawing circles on them. Then he grabbed the red-head's hand again, interlocking their fingers. When they couldn't keep it like that, Oliver's hand slithered up to Percy's bum--to what he could reach anyway--and the red-head gave him a subtle warning look.

He let out a grunt when Oliver gave it a squeeze. Oh, he was so in trouble once school was over. If it weren't for the fact he was still in charge of twenty five students, he would toss the laptop aside and tackle Oliver now. Soon, he promised himself. Right after class when he had a bit of a break.

"Professor Weasley!"

"What's he staring at?"

"I dunno."

"He looks constipated. Professor, are you constipated? I can relate. See just the other day-"

"No, Phoebe," he said, cutting her off. "I'm fine. Sorry everyone, just spaced out for a moment."

Discreetly, he mouthed to Oliver, this is all your fault

Oliver looked pleased.

Percy rolled his eyes.

"Professor, I was thinking about something."

"Yes, Phoebe?" He said, warily.

"You totally need a date!"

He spluttered. "Excuse me?"

Some of his students snickered and giggled.

"Men your age need that companionship. And the sex. Unless you're like a virgin," she said with a thoughtful expression. "Are there virgins at your age? Oooh, if not you could be the world's oldest virgin! Do wizards have a record book? Muggles do. I think you get money for it...."

Oliver's face was fairly red now from trying to refrain from laughing out loud.

He sighed heavily. He did not get paid enough for this job. "That is inappropriate to ask-"

"Do you fancy anyone? I could totally set you up. I've seen a gazillion rom coms. I know what to do!"

Percy checked the time. No he couldn't leave yet. He sat up straighter, figuring that if he started the lesson now, he could salvage what was left of the time.

And his dignity.

Suddenly, someone--Phoebe, of course-- let out a gasp.

" Professor, you're wearing Professor Wood's shirt!"

Percy's head snapped down to look at it. It wasn't anything distinctive that could be traced back to his boyfriend. Nothing about Puddlemere or how much of a fanatic he was (he'd gotten a shirt like that as a gift for Oliver's birthday once). Just a plain olive green shirt. How did she-

Oliver was surprised too.

"How do you know?" One of his other students demanded.

"isn't it obvious? He's worn it before."

"You also said it makes his muscles pop," someone else pointed out.

Shamelessly, Phoebe agreed and added, "No offense, Professor Weasley, but that looks hideous on you. That is so not your color."

"It's a good thing I have you, Phoebe. Otherwise I might have worn the bloody thing outside," Percy deadpanned.

She nodded vigorously in agreement. Then something seemed to click in her mind. "Oh my gosh!" She let out another squeal. "Do you guys know what this means?!"

Her classmates simply blinked.

"If Professor Weasley is wearing Professor Wood's shirt....they must be together or something!"

Alarm was clouded over Percy's face. He was rendered speechless at how she'd figured it out. Oliver jumped to his feet and came around to the camera on the laptop so the kids could see him. "Hey, kids," he waved.

"No way!" Phoebe exclaimed excitedly. "Hi Professor Wood! I can't believe you hooked up with our History professor. This is so cool! Everyone thinks you're both hot. This is like double hot....like fire!"

Both men regarded her with amusement.

"I feel like I should warn you, Professor Wood, that if you break Professor Weasley's heart, there's gonna be problems."

"Oh?"Oliver chuckled.

Phoebe nodded. "He's the nicest professor ever and if you make him cry just know I'm good with a knife."

"I have no intention of breaking Perc-Professor Weasley's heart," Oliver reassured her and kissed Percy on the forehead. The girls awwed and the boys grumbled about how gross it was.

Percy was grinning broadly. He'd been wrong about all this. Perhaps they didn't need to hide in the first place.

After class was over with, Percy placed the laptop on the floor and laid on the couch with Oliver on top of him, his head resting on his chest. The red-head threaded his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, craning at his neck at times to nuzzle him.

"Do you regret telling them?" Oliver murmured.

"No," Percy decided, dropping a kiss on Oliver's soft hair. "Not one bit."

"Me either."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Even if you are the world's oldest virgin."

"Oh shut up!"

#harry potter #percyweasleywritingchallenge #oliver wood #percy weasley #percy weasley fic #percy x oliver #percy weasley fanfiction #perciver

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

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Hi there! I don't think I've requested anything from you before ( my memory is awful though)

Anyhow I was wondering if I could get some Izuku smut with a female reader.

The scene is youre out with your girls, ( mina, hagakure, Momo) at the club having a good time. You see this green eyed stranger looking at you across the room.

His boys hype him up to ask you to dance and it ends up turning into following him back home ( I LIVE for soft dom! Deku!)

Thanks for taking the time to read and answer this!

Ugh, sorry this took so long, nonnie! You sent this in just as I was being eaten alive by a fic that’s wayyyyy longer than it needs to be. But I’m here now and you said the magic words: soft dom. Yesssss. I went college!AU for this and I hate clubs (drinking, dancing, flirting, no thanks) so I projected that on the reader a bit. Oopsie! It was hard to keep Izuku in character for this, but I did my best. Anyway, hope you like!

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, Kaminari and M*neta leering, spanking, slight exhibitionism, alcohol (not drunk sex, though), dirty talk

rating: explicit, 18+

wc: 5k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Sometimes people looked at you, Mina, Momo, and Tooru and wondered how you were friends. People who had only known each of you as you were in college could never put it together. But the answer was simple: you’d been friends since high school. You were rapidly becoming different people, but those three were still your girls through and through.

That was how you, Mina, Tooru, and Momo ended up in the club that day. Two friends who really wanted to go—Mina and Tooru—and two friends who really didn’t—you and Momo. These things happen when you become friends years before you could be allowed in any club. Your college friends never would have invited you on an excursion like this—hell, none of them would ever be seen at a club either. But when Mina and Tooru showed up at your door begging you to go out and experience your twenties, you couldn’t say no. Now you were spilling out of the car Mina had called and walking on high heeled booties to a club you’d heard of but never been to.

“Obviously you actually wanted to go, Momo, otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing a top like that.”

Tooru wasn’t hiding the fact that she was ogling Momo’s very prominently displayed chest, all but bursting out of the deep v-neck she had paired with a short skirt.

“It’s only sensible for me to wear a top like this,” Momo said, her voice firm despite awkward fidgets to put her breasts a little more away. “Places like these are so hot that a shirt with a higher neckline would be soaked with cleavage sweat in a minute.”

“Mhmm, right,” Tooru said, flouncing away in her own crop top and shorts, eager to enter the club.

You’d gone simple, just tossing on a bodycon dress that you’d ordinarily pair with a sweater and tights, but that Mina had convinced you to wear on its own tonight. You crossed your arms, the chill of the evening seeping past the thin fabric even just in the short time it took to get from the heated car to the sweaty bar.

Tooru had run to the door and was nearly bouncing, waiting for the rest of you to catch up. Mina jogged over to her, looking the coolest of all of you in her black mesh crop top with nothing but a bra underneath and shorts that had the lacy scalloped hem of her underwear peaking out the top of. You hurried after them, just eager to get out of the cold. Tooru whipped the door open and the three of you piled in all at once, flashed your IDs, and then you were in.

The sound of the bass had thrummed loudly even outside, but once inside, your senses were overloaded. The music was deafening, the smell of alcohol bitter and heady, and the heat of sweaty bodies oppressive as Mina grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd.

Even with Mina clearing the way, you had to elbow your way to the bar. This was the easiest part of the night—a task, something to do aside from trying and failing to work up the nerve to dance. Over the music, you yelled, “Whiskey ginger, well is fine,” to the bartender and turned to your girlfriends.

Mina and Tooru were already swinging their hips as they waited for their drinks, shimmying against each other to the beat. You and Momo were a little stiffer, not quite having the nerve or confidence to let your bodies be taken by the music.

“Girl’s night!” Mina cheered once everyone had a drink in hand. Glasses clinked and Tooru took a healthy gulp of her drink

“Can’t dance if you’re worried about spilling your drink,” Tooru said.

“Not with that attitude!” Mina said. She thrust her beer bottle in the air and then grabbed Tooru’s hand and the two of them stumbled into the mass of writhing bodies.

“You gonna follow them?” Momo asked, chewing on the straw of her drink.

“Not yet.” You had to shuffle away from the bar to make room for other patrons, moving to lean against one of the walls. “Maybe a bit of liquid courage.”

“It probably would have been wiser to do shots.”

You looked around, noticing how many people were already sending glances Momo’s way. You could draw direct lines all around the room between men’s leering eyes and Momo’s partially exposed chest, already beginning to glisten with sweat. You pursed your lips. It was nice to have Momo around as a fellow shy dancer, but it was discouraging to always be the one next to the prettiest girl in the room. People were looking right through you.

“You’ll probably get some sent your way soon enough,” you muttered.

“What?” Momo asked, her voice loud over the music.

“Nothing!” you replied. You squeezed the lime wedge into your drink and swirled it, drinking thirstily.

You hoped for one of two things. For the night to pass by quickly or for, unlikely though it was, something exciting to happen. Bars and clubs were predictable. Just once, you wanted to be surprised.

“Woah, look at her.”

Midoriya tried and failed to follow his friend’s gaze into one of the dark corners of the bar. Mineta was a good foot shorter than Midoriya, so it was hard to tell exactly where his line of sight was taking him. Kaminari seemed to hone in right away, though, pointing eagerly at the wall near the bar.

“Good find, Mineta,” Kaminari said. “Damn she’s hot.”

Midoriya followed Kaminari’s finger and noticed two girls huddled close together, sipping their drinks and observing the crowd, occasionally leaning over to talk to each other. One was dressed in a top and skirt and the other in a tight dress. The second girl’s hips were moving to the beat just slightly, as though she might not even know herself that she was doing it. She laughed at something her friend said, smile opening wide and fearlessly.

“Wow,” Midoriya said, eyes locked on her.

“What, did Mineta finally find a girl to meet your ridiculously high standards?” Kaminari asked, clapping Midoriya on the back.

“Maybe,” Midoriya murmured, watching as she waved to some other girls in the crowd.

“About time,” Mineta said. “I’ve never seen more perfect tits in my life.”

That snapped Midoriya out of his focus and he looked down at his friend, whose eyes were unblinking, scarily locked straight ahead. “What?”

“That plunging neckline perfectly showing what it would look like if I had my hands on either side of them,” he continued, his voice distant. Luckily, Kaminari smacked him upside the head.

“If you’re saying it loud enough to be heard over the music, you’re saying it too loud,” Kaminari chastised. “Besides, if Midoriya finally found a girl he likes, you should give him first dibs.”

“What?” Mineta asked, turning towards Kaminari, outraged.

“Wait, wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Midoriya said, waving his hands in front of him before his friends could have it out. “The girl I was looking at isn’t wearing a plunging neckline. Look there.”

Midoriya pointed in your direction as subtly as he could, smiling as he caught another glimpse of your beautiful laugh.

“Oh, her friend,” Mineta said.

“Yeah, that tracks,” Kaminari added, looking between Midoriya and you. “Well, you should go for it, man! Try your luck!”

Midoriya looked at Kaminari, brows furrowed. “Did you guys invite me just to get me laid or something?”

“Of course not,” Mineta said. “Your innocent face makes us look less like two fuckboys and the girls will trust us more. You’re our cover.”

“Purely selfish reasons then, okay,” Midoriya muttered. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go talk to her.”

“Do it!” Kaminari said, giving you a thumbs up. He kicked the back of Midoriya’s calf and sent him tumbling into the crowd. Amidst a song of sorrys, Midoriya made his uncertain way toward you.

Three men had already tried their luck with Momo in as many songs. She’d kindly refused each advance—no level of drunkenness had ever led Momo to so much as a sloppy makeout and you weren’t sure how many times hell would have to freeze over for that to change. You joked about each of the guys and their sad pick-up attempts, but, still, it had you feeling low. None of the guys even pretended to be interested in you. They went straight for Momo, trying their darndest to keep their eyes on hers and not drift south.

“Hello, uh, miss…”

You nearly rolled your eyes as you looked up from your drink, half gone already, to find another sucker that Momo would have to reject. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were struck by how different this one was from the others. He didn’t look like the usual meathead dude-bro who swung by. He had a round face and freckles smattered under the roundest green eyes you’d ever seen. He looked sheepish already, anticipating the rejection he’d get from talking to a girl so far out of his league.

You felt the jolt of an elbow in your ribs and looked at Momo who was giving you intense eyes, eyebrows raised. She looked at you and then at the boy with the green hair, tilting her head, and suddenly you realized that you were “miss.”

“Oh, hello,” you said, unable to hide the confusion on your face.

“I’m Izuku,” the man said, smiling softly at you. “Would you, um, care to dance?”

You smiled. It sounded like this boy was expecting a waltz instead of the hips that were grinding against each other in the middle of this dance floor.

“I’m… not sure,” you said, so unfamiliar with the procedure here that you were floundering. “You see, I don’t really dance.”

The boy breathed out what looked to be a sigh of relief and you suddenly noticed the muscles bulging under his t-shirt. His cute, innocent face was hiding a man who was seriously stacked. “The truth is, I don’t usually dance either. I was pressured into coming here by some friends.”

You looked over at Momo. “We know the feeling.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t get your names,” Izuku said, suddenly looking between the two of you.

Momo looked at you for a second then said, “I’m Momo and this is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Izuku.”

“You as well,” Izuku said to Momo before turning back to you. “You know, the thing about dancing is that if you just start and let go of everything, it can actually be kind of fun.”

This boy sounded just like Mina, the same argument she made every time she dragged you and Momo to one of these things. Sometimes you managed to let your guard down enough to enjoy it, sometimes not.

“It’s also more fun with someone else.”

Izuku was looking at you hopefully, and that just made his eyes even wider, such a dark forest green in the dim light of the club. You could feel yourself being pulled to him, like a string between you growing taut when Momo put a hand on your arm. “I’ll hold your drink and just come back when you want it, okay?”

Momo was giving you an intent gaze and you knew she was offering you an out. Try dancing with the boy and, if it wasn’t turning out well, say that you needed to go back to your friend. Easy.

“Okay,” you said, taking one more sip before handing your drink off to her. Then you extended you hand toward Izuku, who took it with his broadest smile yet, and led you into the mosh pit.

There was no sign of Mina or Tooru anywhere, haven fallen invisible in the throng of people. So it was just you and Izuku and a hundred strangers, all feeling the music sync with their heartbeats and then their hips, sending them moving.

You started facing each other, your hips moving from side to side, the rhythm slowly moving up so that your shoulders were shimmying, head bobbing. Izuku grinned, bopping along excitedly. He wasn’t a smooth dancer, not cool or rhythmic, but he didn’t seem to care. He put his hands lightly on your hips, encouraging you to move a little more. Asking you to let go.

You let your hips follow his touch and laughed when he rocked you from side to side, totally out of line with anything that might be sensual or suggestive. It was silly and you realized that maybe you’d been putting too much pressure to look a certain way, to be a certain kind of person. Music was for everyone, dancing was for everyone. Izuku seemed to know that already.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, giving yourself into the joy as the two of you rocked, free of expectation or anyone else’s experience. Before you knew it, the music had changed, the next song slightly slower, and your motions smoothed out to match. Izuku slid one of his hands back into yours and raised it over your head, initiating a turn. You went along and the next thing you knew, your back was pressed against his muscular chest, hips moving in tandem.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Mhmm.”

You could feel all corners of him pressed against you and you couldn’t help but push back into him. His chest was broader than it seemed, and you could feel the crease of his pecs, of his abs. His hands were on your hips, strong arms brushing your sides. You brought one hand up to touch his bare bicep, feeling how hard it was even unflexed.

Suddenly, you could feel Izuku’s breath on your jaw, the flutter of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, exposing the long column of your neck to him. He took that as invitation enough and pressed a kiss to it. He kissed up to your jawline and just behind your ear. He gave the lightest of sucks before you pulled away and offered him your mouth.

He took it eagerly, your lips moving at the same pace as your gyrating hips. You lost yourself in the feeling, the anonymity of kissing, hidden in a crowd of people. The rhythmic dance of your hips lulling you into a kind of easy complacency as you felt Izuku’s hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips against his. The other one crept forward on your thigh, awfully close to your center, to the hem of your too-short skirt. He never breached either line, though. Just kept his hand there, suggesting where it could go.

“Come home with me,” you whispered when you separated for breath.

“What?” Izuku asked, face flushed, voice just carrying over the music.

You twisted back around so that you were face to face so that you could press your lips right up against his ear. “Come home with me, Izuku.”

You called for a car and sent Momo a text saying that you were going home. You hoped that Momo, Mina, and Tooru wouldn’t want to come back to your shared home anytime soon—Momo was smart enough to figure that out herself.

Twenty minutes later and you were home, you were horny, and you had someone willing and able to solve that.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” Izuku asked while you unlocked the door and ushered him in, kicking off your shoes as quickly as you could.

“Half a drink,” you said quickly. “You?”

“None.”

“Perfect,” you said, and you wrapped your arms around him once again, pulling him in for a kiss.

Izuku did you one better, grabbing hold of your thighs and picking you up like you weighed nothing. Your dress rose up over your hips and your center fell right against his crotch, grinding into it.

You were ready to give directions to your room, but Izuku didn’t carry you further than the living room before slamming your back against a wall and pressing his hips into yours. You gasped at the impact, but it was nothing painful—just surprising. Izuku dug his fingers into your thighs and said, “You seemed awfully eager for this. Desperate enough to handle a little roughness, princess? Or did you think this was gonna be easy?”

The epithet of princess send your heart plunging to your core, heat spreading throughout you. His voice was low, much lower than it had been at the club and your thighs clenched around him. “I thought…maybe…”

He’d been so sweet at the club, shy almost. You tasted his tongue on yours and he hadn’t been lying—no alcohol. The only taste passing between the two of you was the tang from your whiskey ginger. But now his grip on you and the low growl in his voice was telling you another story.

“Do you wanna be rough or do you wanna be a little princess? Or maybe both?”

“Both,” you keened desperately, breathlessly.

“I shoulda known, you grinding down on my cock like that,” he said, nibbling your exposed neck. “Can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?”

He pulled back so you slid an inch down the wall, but his grip was tight enough to keep you from falling any further. Then his hips slammed back into yours, as though you were fucking already.

“Shit,” you whispered as he bit down on your collarbone.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want,” he said. “If you’re not, it’s going to be a very long night.”

That half threat was almost enough to trigger your backtalk, see exactly what he had in mind to turn this night into a long one. But, by the same coin, you wanted to see what he had planned already.

“I’m good,” you whimpered.

“You are?” Izuku asked. “Prove it.”

He pressed his chest into yours, and you felt your breasts flatten against his pecs, your ribs trapped from a deep breath by his thick forearms.

“Strip and suck my cock.”

You unwrapped your legs from his waist and he released you to the ground. Your dress was stretchy and off in an instant, thrown to the floor, panties soon to follow. Then you were on your knees undoing his dark jeans and pulling out his long, plump cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, stroking your hair.

Preening at the praise, you wrapped your lips around your teeth, and swallowed him as far as you could go in one go. You wanted to be a good girl, after all.

“Shit,” Izuku said, keeping a light grip on the back of your head, but letting you do what you want, setting your own pace. You wasted no time with playful licks and kisses, immediately bobbing your head up and down and stroking the rest with your hand.

The noises that Izuku made, little huffs and whines, were cute, showing glimpses of the shy boy who had approached you at the club. He took off his shirt and you could see his abs in all their glory, even better than you’d imagined. As you sucked him off, you brought a hand up to the ridges of his lower abs and rubbed lightly, enjoying the hard muscle. After a trip down to his balls, sucking one into his mouth and you kept up your firm strokes, Izuku pulled you off, breathing heavily.

“That’s good. You’ve proven that you’re a good girl, princess.”

“I did?” you asked shyly, giving his cock a long lick just to make sure.

“Yes,” Izuku shuddered. “Stand against the wall.”

“Here?” you asked.

There were windows all over your living room, giving a clear view to the street and, more importantly, from the street into your apartment. More than that, there was no telling when your housemates would get home and, even if they knew you’d brought a boy home, they’d hardly expect him to be fucking you in the living room.

“Was I unclear, princess?”

“No,” you said, and you went to stand facing the wall. Izuku came up behind you and knocked your legs further apart, and then reached in front of you, rubbing two fingers from your slit up to your clit in a couple firm strokes. You gasped, your head falling forward, but before you could get used to the rough touch, he was gone.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked casually.

“In my nightstand,” you said, moving to stand straight. He pushed your hands back against the wall, warning you not to move.

“Which room is yours?”

“The far one on the left,” you said, only turning your head to look over your shoulder.

“Good,” he said. “Don’t move.”

Then he was gone, leaving you naked, legs spread in your living room. You could feel how drenched you were—Izuku had taken a whole globule of your wetness and spread it all over your pussy. Now, standing spread, you could feel the cold air from the room on you when all you wanted was heat.

Izuku took his time in coming back, slow footfalls making their way back to the living room. You saw a box of condoms drop on the couch next to you and heard the telltale sound of one of the packages being ripped open. The next thing you knew, Izuku’s hands were on your hips, just like at the club, only now his cock was free, sliding in the slick of your pussy.

You gasped, pushing harder against the wall and thrusting your ass back toward Izuku. “Please,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you don’t have to ask,” Izuku said casually. “I know exactly what your slutty pussy wants. I can feel it dripping all over my cock. And you’ve been very good, princess, but that doesn’t mean that you’re in charge. Understand?”

“Yes, Izuku.”

You were pushed forward by the sudden force of a slap against your ass, then Izuku’s chest pressing firmly back into yours, his teeth by your ear. “Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

“That’s better.”

He went back to thrusting, one of his hands snaking around your front, through your curls to spread your lips. Your puffy clit was exposed to the air and Izuku’s fingers spreading the skin provided just the slightest bit of pressure, but not nearly enough. You whined, bending more into him, aching for more contact than the occasional brush of his cock skating across your clit. But you wanted to be a good girl too.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Izuku said, his thrusts coming to a stop as the head of his cock butterflied your opening. “You’ve been very patient. Are you ready for your reward?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You groaned in relief as he split you open, sinking into you just as he pulled his fingers in a hard, slow stroke up your clit.

“You like that, princess?” Izuku asked, making his thrusts slow and deep, his finger’s strokes on your clit languid and intentional.

“Yes,” you moaned, rocking your weight back onto your heels as you met Izuku’s every plunge.

“You feel so good,” Izuku said, his voice becoming softer and more breathy as he got lost in the feel of you. His right hand began spinning circles on your clit, the left wrapped around your middle, fingertips rubbing almost tenderly along your side.

You could only pant, leaning your head back on his shoulder as Izuku’s thrusts sped up, your climax rising within you. “Fuck,” you murmured as his left hand fell to your hip, changing the angle so that he was now pounding your g-spot with every go. He continued like that for a minute, each hit bringing you higher and higher until he suddenly stopped.

“What?” you asked, and the next thing you knew, you were being pushed to the arm of your couch, a hand to the small of your back pressing your spine parallel to the floor, and—before you knew what was happening—he was back in you, going full speed.

You gasped, your head falling down, nipples rubbing against the fabric of the couch as your tits were sent swinging. That sensation caught you, sending fresh sparks through you.

“Are you close, Princess?” Izuku breathed, his quick thrusts breaking his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“Touch yourself, then.”

You followed his instruction immediately, snaking your hand down to your clit and rubbing it with your practiced touch. The feeling of your cold fingers against your scorching clit, Izuku’s hot cock railing in and out of you, and the occasional spark of your nipples rubbing against the couch had you on the edge of your peak in no time.

“You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum on my cock?”

“Yes,” you whispered, the heat in your stomach burning, almost unbearable as you reached your cusp.

“I’m close too, Y/N,” Izuku whispered. “God, you’re so perfect.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto your shoulder just as you shattered around him, keening as you rubbed yourself through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he said, and you felt his thrusts become jagged, barely leaving you every time before plunging balls deep back into you. He shuddered and, before long, he finished too, taking slow, easy thrusts in and out of you before falling fully on your back, wrapping his arms around your middle.

He stayed there for just a moment before pulling out, taking off his condom and knotting it. You’d collapsed onto the arm of your sofa, face falling down the side as you tried to get your breath back under you, the feeling back into your legs.

“Was that too much?” Izuku asked, his voice soft and gentle again as he came in front of you, gently putting his fingers under your chin to bring your face back to him.

“No, that was amazing,” you said.

Izuku smiled and brought your lips to his for a quick kiss. “I’m glad. Where do you keep your water glasses?”

“Cabinet above the sink.”

“Great.”

Izuku gave you another kiss, this time on the cheek, and then he was gone. You stayed still for a few more moments, your breath back in both hands, the heat seeping from your face slowly but steadily. You pressed yourself up, curling your spine like a cat to fight against the deep sway you’d had against the couch and the wall and gave a little shimmy to work out the kinks. You took a quick trip to the bathroom, then you went around and scooped up all the pieces of clothing that had been thrown hither and yon and carted them back to your room. You’d just flipped on the light switch and dropped them in a pile on the floor when Izuku came back with a glass of water and a wash cloth.

“You got up,” he said.

“I just didn’t want my roommates to get home to find me fucked out against the couch,” you said with a smile, taking the glass he handed to you. “We have house rules.”

“That’s fair,” Izuku said as you took a glug of water. “Lie back on the bed.”

His voice was far less demanding than before, but you went along anyway. You set the water glass on the nightstand and then lay down, allowing Izuku to spread your legs. Some of the old heat returned to your face and you looked away from him as he took the washcloth to your center.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he said.

“It’s just different,” you squeaked. “After we’re done…In the full light and you’re just down there looking at me.”

“It’s only for a moment longer,” Izuku said as he cleaned you. True to his word, he took the washcloth away after a moment, pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and said, “You’re beautiful.”

The washcloth was added to the stack of clothes on the floor, and then Izuku was back in front of you, running his fingers lightly along the outside of your thigh.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said softly.

You sat up, putting a hand on his arm. “Stay.”

“Can I?”

His eyes were wide and innocent, like he hadn’t just fucked you raw in plain sight of the neighbors. Like he hadn’t spanked you and called you princess.

“Of course,” you said.

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Cuddling is kind of my favorite part.”

“Is it, now?”

“I’ll prove it,” Izuku said, flipping off the light and climbing into bed behind you as you settled in. Then he had you wrapped tight in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. He let out a deep, satisfied sigh into your neck and said, “It’s just the best.”

“It kind of is,” you said, snuggling back against him.

There were a few more murmurs shared between you two but, slowly, the words fell loose, eyes falling closed. Your breathing evened out, and then there was nothing but Izuku’s arms and breath around yours.

“There’s a box of condoms on the couch!” you heard Mina screech a couple hours later, jolting you out of your deep sleep. You felt Izuku’s arms tighten protectively around you as he too let out a sharp intake of breath. “Our girl fucked!”

“Ooh, what a surprise!” Tooru cheered.

“Out here?” you heard Momo groan, her voice much more tired than Mina’s or Tooru’s.

“Dammit,” you whispered, and Izuku giggled behind you.

“That was my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Shh, just go back to sleep,” you said. “If we wake up early, we can sneak you out before any of them are up.”

“So long as I get to see you again,” Izuku murmured, nuzzling back into your shoulder.

Your chest warmed and you pulled Izuku’s arms closer against you, gripping them tightly before your hold fell lax in sleep. Tooru was right—you’d gotten the surprise you’d wanted.

“Definitely.”

#ask ana #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #not/sfw #mha smut #bnha smut

636 notes · View notes

ad1thi · 4 years ago

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underrated stevetony fics rec list (P1)

i feel like a lot of really good stevetony fics get swept under the rug because this is such a big fandom and sometimes people miss out on quality content?? so this is a rec list of some of the stevetony fics i feel like everybody should have read/ be reading

Edit (31.12.2020): this got very long (i had almost 50 fics on my list, so ive decided to split this list into two parts. part 2 will be out soon!!)

Edit (20.02.2021): part 2 is out now!!

picture me in the trees: @ifmywishescametrue

Tony and Steve were childhood friends that almost became more, but Tony moved and they lost their chance. Thirteen years later, a chance meeting brings Tony back into Steve's life.

Free: @iwanttopizzamanyou

"Steve reads, and the words dance in front of his eyes, because while this used to be his dream, what he wanted, all he can think about is how this Hell will soon become his full time life."

Steve discovers fame, with fans waiting for him in the lobby and girls passing him their numbers after the shows. It used to be what he wanted, he supposes. Except his future managers keep asking more and more from him, and he's not sure his old life will survive. Tony is ready to help, and compromise, but Steve maybe isn't anymore.

making it work: @/ironarm

“Just tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” Clint replies, finishing the end of his burger and starting to crumple up the wrapper, “It’s not like you love him or anything.”

“Clint, if I thought I could get rid of him about a week ago, I would have. But for some fucked up reason, I can’t lie to him. It’s like, I see those baby blue eyes, and bam. Whatever barrier that I built up from childhood trauma is gone.”

Clint chokes on the last piece of his burger, almost resisting the urge to smack Tony on the side of his head.

Tony was a fucking idiot.

Boys Like Us: @naferty

The video had been a mistake. One of the biggest mistakes he had ever done in his life, and considering Tony Stark had done a bunch of shit in his younger years, and even older years, that was saying something.

It was just that none of those things were as embarrassing as that video.

He blamed Clint for everything

Stained Fingertips: @thesoundofnat

“I don’t really believe in magic,” he said, clearing his throat. “But I’m almost certain you’re a goddamn wizard, Steve Rogers.”

Steve would remember those words for the rest of his life.

(Or, Steve is maybe slightly obsessed with drawing Tony. Not that Tony minds.)

Inhale, Ex-Sail: @summerpipedream

"Rich pirates decked out in top-of-the-line black market gear,” grumbled Tony, ”why don’t I have the budget to make those again?’

Rhodey inched back so that he and Tony were back-to-back. “We’re apparently law abiding citizens now, which means having to pay taxes.”

Tony scowled. “Urg, right. Remind me why I wanted to do that again?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “What was it you called him last time? Your sweet tart? Your apple pie in the sky? The wind beneath your wings? Hopefully he’ll fly here fast enough so we don’t get killed. Or worse, mugged.”

Tony Stark Bingo K1 - AU: Steampunk

As Constant As A Star: @atsadi

The Swan Princess AU

As young children, Prince Anthony and Princess Natasha of neighboring Midgardian kingdoms are betrothed, and spend their summers together every year until they are wed. Tony adores his headstrong friend Nat: it’s her scowly little companion Steve he’s not thrilled about at first. But soon Steve goes from being a thorn in Tony’s side to being his dearest friend – and much, much more than that. Despite Steve feeling the same way about Tony, the pair still dance around each other for years as Steve struggles to accept his feelings for another man: especially one already betrothed to another. Not to mention that Tony is a prince, and Steve is nothing but a squire.

But before they can make peace, Tony is kidnapped and dragged into the beginnings of another conflict in the nearby magical kingdom of Asgard – he really hates magic. With his potential usefulness diminishing by the day, Tony races to escape even as Steve, Natasha, and their friends race to find him and bring him home.

And—just to make matters worse—Tony has been trapped by a powerful spell and turned into a swan, of all creatures. He really, really hates magic.

Always Yours: @hollyjollyhope

Getting kidnapped is normal for them, at this point. But there's nothing normal about this.

And suddenly, Tony has a choice to make.

Oxeye Daisy (patience): @s-horne

“You make me want things I can’t have.”

Steve startled at the voice from behind him and turned around to see Tony standing in the kitchen doorway. He stared straight at Tony for a long moment. The room was quiet, time stretching out in a thick and uncomfortable silence as neither man dare to move nor opened his mouth to speak first.

White Clover (a promise): @s-horne

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Tony lifted his head as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice. When he managed to open his eyes and blink a bit of the blurriness away, he was rewarded with a gentle smile being shone down at him.

“There you are,” Steve said. “Was worried I was going to have to talk to myself.”

Though his tone was light, Tony knew what he meant. It was no secret that Tony was physically weaker and a hell of a lot more human than Steve was and was therefore struggling more with the lack of regular nourishment that came with being held hostage.

“Course not,” Tony said back, voice hoarse but plastering a smile on his face all the same. His head was pounding and his eyes couldn't stay open. “Would I ever do that to you? You’d never get a sensible answer.”

Acta non verba: @firebrands

unapologetic fluff about two idiots who can barely keep it together with how hard they're crushing on each other

or:

tony has to help steve with math + a halloween party = a good time for everyone, eventually

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

Adjacent, Against, Upon: @firebrands

A political AU!

Steve Rogers is running as the Mayor of somewhere, America. Tony Stark, his campaign manager, deals with a candidate who isn’t interested in lying, and just wants to do good by these citizens, god damn it.

song of unrest: @omg-just-peachy

How was Steve supposed to reconcile all of this? The way he looked so different but still felt so much the same? It made Steve’s head spin. He knows he shouldn’t care so much, that he is what he is, but he just wants to know.

Paint The Town Blue: @omg-just-peachy

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.

Camelot: @weethreequarter

For one shining moment, there was Camelot.

In 2019, Karen Page meets Captain Steve Rogers to conduct an exclusive interview on his late husband, President Tony Stark.

In 2007, Steve meets Senator Tony Stark and falls in love.

he thinks he’s lancelot (but he’s more of a sir lamorak): @theotherwasdeath

Tony knows firsthand that violence isn’t funny. So why oh why does he think that the scene playing out in front of him, Steve and Victor Von Doom in a knock-out, drag-down fist fight, is absolutely hilarious?

wildflowers: @tinytonysnark

“So,” Steve begins, clapping his hands together, “the city of SHIELD is in debt. The big ups have sent for financial advisors, all the way from DC! They’re gonna take a look at the city’s spending and make some cuts.”

He squints at the camera against the morning sun shining through the courtyard, “I’m not that worried. Everyone here in the parks department is an important member of the team and absolutely needed.”

The camera swings towards the office where from the large glass window, Natasha can be seen picking up the ringing phone before immediately slamming it back down onto the receiver.

[A Parks and Rec AU]

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

#adi's rec list #stevetony #superhusbands #steve rogers x tony stark #steve rogers/tony stark #steve x tony #steve/tony #underrated stevetony fics #this is part 1 of this rec list #part two will be out soon!!#im planning on doing this for other ships!!#so let me know if there's any ships you wanna see this for

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Thigh Highs (Part 2)

Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Shinsou Hitoshi, Todoroki Shouto (bonus!)

Genre: Spice 😏 College AU!

Scenario: Your boyfriend sees you wearing thigh high socks for the first time in your relationship.

PART 1

Word count: 1,655

Tags: @cyanide9602 @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Here’s 2 more best boys Sharkbabe and Shinboi, and a small spicier Todo scenario for my fellow Shouto simps 😉 Here are some more boys simping over thicc thighs. Enjoy the spice before I post some angst 😁

And yes, it’s always Todoroki thirst hours hush

Kirishima Eijirou

You have nothing better to do this weekend; assignments are all finished, exams were done for the week, and you really don’t feel like watching or reading anything new. That last one is particularly because your boyfriend is off doing who-knows-what with his friends. Thinking about it leaves a frown on your face. It’s not that you don’t want your boyfriend to have friends - in fact, you were the one who had told him that he was spending too much time with you and he was abandoning his other relationships - but now he was taking it overboard; the entire week he was with his bros and paid no attention to you!

So here you are, rummaging through your closet and drawers putting together some outfits to wear for the rest of the school year just to make yourself feel better. At least you can look hot waiting for your boyfriend to come back. You decide to try out a few outfits to match your thigh high socks since you’ve always wanted to try wearing them out instead of just sleeping with them. A few Instagram posts of them with shorts had caught your fancy, so what’s stopping you from pulling it off?

As you thought, standing in front of the mirror displayed a cute casual outfit that shows off your legs nicely, even if there is a slight digging into your thighs at the tops (thank you thickness). Playing around with a few poses in front of the mirror led to you taking some pictures on your phone, just in case you needed to remind yourself of the outfits.

And then a splendid idea flashes through your mind. Pulling up a chair in front of your mirror, you sit down and cross your legs.

Oh my.

The energy this pose exudes is confident, taunting, a classic boss bitch.

And, with a devious smile on your face, you know exactly how you want to use this power. You send two of the best pictures of you in this position to Kirishima without a caption. Let’s see what he’s gonna do now.

Not even five minutes later, without so much as a reply, there’s a firm knock at your door. As soon as you open it, Kirishima whooshes into your room, easily lifting you up in his arms and slamming the door behind him before tossing you onto your bed and hovering over you. His scarlet orbs flash dangerously, boring into yours and effectively sending a shiver through your body.

“I didn’t know you were so sneaky, babe,” he smirks, leaning even closer to your face, pulling you closer to him using his harsh grip under your thighs, “Sending me a picture like that knowing it would rile me up.” He places a single searing kiss on your lips before trailing down to your neck, your collarbone, lifting your shirt to place more down your stomach to the hem of your shorts. “Such a tease. You know how much I love these thighs.”

Between his voice lowering an octave and the vibrations and kisses against your soft skin, you quiver and squeak out his name only to yelp when his sharp teeth replace his lips. “No one can see you in these besides me. Don’t flaunt your legs for anyone else.” Kirishima leaves more bites along your sensitive, plush inner thighs, marking you as his. He chuckles darkly feeling your fingers grip his hair, bringing his head level back to yours with a cocky smirk. “Were you looking for my attention, babe? Looks like you can’t handle it.”

Shinsou Hitoshi

"Can we not talk about class anymore? I wanna just sleep and cuddle." Shinsou's arm over your torso hugs you closer to his body. His heavy eyelids close and his nose burrows into the crook of your neck.

"You're right, this week was a drag," you chuckle, bringing your hand up to stroke his hair. "Sleep was nonexistent for both of us."

After the week we've had, it would be an understatement to say we want to sleep the entire weekend away, just to follow the entire routine over again next week, and the next and the next until Finals come up.

I sit up from my bed. "I wanna show you something, you might like it."

Which is why I believe in breaking up the mundane with a few tricks sometimes.

You tear yourself away from his warmth and roll off the bed, approaching your drawers. Shinsou lets out a groan from your withdrawal, but keeps his eyes closed. Poor boy must be tired, you think, Maybe this will cheer him up. You had seen the cutest pair of thigh socks online that reminded you of your soft, cat-obsessed boyfriend and secretly bought them for an occasion like today where he needed to be cheered up.

You slid them on and stood at the edge of the bed where your boyfriend still has his eyes closed. Clasping your hands behind your back and trying to suppress the smile on your face, you clear your throat. “What do you think?”

He cracks an eye open lazily before darting up and blatantly staring at my legs, making me chuckle at his wide eyes. The socks I found are plain black, but at the top are cat faces complete with yellow eyes, whiskers, a nose, and triangular ears. Running his tongue across his bottom lip, Shinsou glances up at me before flickering back down. “Why don’t you come over here so I can see them better.”

You crawl back onto the bed, legs outstretched in front of you towards your boyfriend.

But he shakes his head and hums. “Still too far away, come closer.” His large, warm hands grip my hips and pull me over so I’m straddling his waist. “Much better.”

I rest my arms around his shoulders, heat rising to my cheeks as caresses the tops of my socks. “So? Do you like them?”

His fingers tug the material. “They’re cute, I admit. And soft like a cat.” The digits ghost up farther towards the middle of my thighs to draw circles on them. “But I think these are much softer.” Stroking the skin and grasping some of the plushness, “They do make your legs look more delicious than usual.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, tightening your grip around his neck and turning your face away. “This isn’t the response I was expecting.”

Shinsou uses the opportunity to latch his lips to your neck. “Didn’t think you’d rile me up from a pair of socks?” His thumbs slide under your shorts, squeezing more of your thighs and massaging them. “I haven’t had my way with you for almost a week.” He journeys farther down right in the center of your collarbone. “There’s a lot of pent up frustration in me, and you look too cute for me not to have fun with you now.”

Todoroki Shouto (Bonus scenario!)

You had just discovered the beauty and allure of thigh high socks thanks to Mina. Putting a pair on was the most magical thing you could have done, and you had to take at least 50 photos of you in them in so many poses, much to your boyfriend’s chagrin. You’d spent the last ten minutes away from his warmth, leaving him impatient as he watches you enjoy yourself. All by yourself, ignoring his personal opinion on your new fashion choice. Todoroki has all the love and patience in the world, but he finds his frustration slowly creeping up on him.

“Love, are you finished yet?”

“Wait, Sho, I just got an idea.” You pull your chair up to your mirror, sit down, and cross your legs.

Todoroki blood rushes all over his body at an otherwise innocent position, the room suddenly a degree hotter.

He can’t take it anymore.

Rising up from your bed, he strolls over to you and stands behind your unsuspecting figure, still buzzing with excitement over how amazing you look. “Darling, I think I know the perfect picture you should take,” he states in his normally smooth voice.

You turn around with your innocent, wide grin. “Really? Tell me!”

He takes your hand to move you out of the chair before sitting on it himself and tapping his leg. Tugging your arm down to lean into your ear, his voice drops an octave. “Come sit in my lap, baby.”

In that instant, your body ignites, responding immediately to his suggestion and taking your seat on him. His warm hands rest right above your hips as you cross your legs again. To say the image looks hot would be an understatement. You’re frozen, captivated by what’s staring back at you.

“Are my hands okay here?” Your boyfriend’s breath fans your ear. “Or should I move them?” You watch as one skids down to rest on one of your thighs, the other sliding up to your waist as his pinky drags the edge of your shirt up to reveal your skin underneath.

“Sh-Shouto,” you squeak, pressing your legs closer together as heat rushing through your body.

His hot lips brush right under the sensitive spot under your ear. “I thought you wanted a good picture?” Butterfly kisses slowly trace down your skin. “Take it,” the command barely a whisper tickling your skin while his hands grip you tighter. “So you remember who holds you like this, who makes you flustered.”

Your shaky hands press the button, mind clouding over, right before he nips your nape and your hand flies down to grab his hand on your thigh. Your body is on fire when you turn around, pushing your body flush to his. Disregarding your phone, you steal Todoroki’s lips desperately, and he smirks at your behavior while his hands squeeze that space where your thighs join your butt. “Finally got your attention,” he chuckles, realizing his neediness finally reached you as well.

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