#just to piss off anyone nearby too

[fantomevoleur]

Valentine's. A day for couples. A day Makoto gets to enjoy with the one and only boy who stole her heart. It's cheesy and so unlike the Student Council President to be so... happy today, but she had a good reason. She had purchased the best chocolates she could find, and they were both pricey and delicious according to the cashier. She trusted her judgement and set out to find Akira during their lunch break.

She spotted a head of messy black hair heading for the cafeteria and quickly stopped him by tapping his shoulder. "Akira, wait!" She called out and once he turned his head, the brunette presented him with a red heart-shaped chocolate box wrapped in a dark blue bow. It even had a card saying 'to my Joker... from your Queen'.

"For you... Happy Valentine's day." The red color on her cheeks was inevitable. "Um, if you're free, I'd like to walk home with you today as well." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear sheepishly.

Another Valentine's filled Shujin's halls with lovestruck couples and students steeling their bravado to confess their true feelings towards their crush. It was a holiday of love, and heartbreak. Fifty-fifty, so long as fate's scales favored the individual's desires. Akira always felt more neutral when it came to February's festivities, minding much of his own business and quietly overserving his surroundings. He'd be lucky if one person handed him leftover handmade chocolates or a homemade, crafted card just to feel included. Yet the second-year never minded being ignored. It wasn't the first time, nor did he expect it to be the last.

Sometimes, though, a small surprise made all the difference. A few 'mysterious, unmarked letters' appeared inside his locker, each written with patience and careful writing. So some students happened to foster deeper sentiments to the delinquent transfer student? How thoughtful. His besmirched name must not have driven away all of his fellow classmates. Those notes remained in place, tucked away and safely hidden underneath his books. Their bravery for taking the first step forward was something to admire, and Akira wished he knew their names in order to congratulate them. And at the same time, let them down easy and in person.

His heart belonged to a queen, after all.

Those thoughts must have materialized into reality since grey hues spotted the brunette jogging down the breezeway. A medium-sized, heart-shaped box took his attention almost immediately as she presented it to him in celebration of today's events. The cold-hearted, student council president participating in a love-themed festival? Guess this could count as a miracle.

"Well, well, Miss Prez. I never expected you to go out of your way and buy chocolates for little ole me~." He playfully teased, smirking and prodding the woman with his brand of mischief. "The good kind, too. I must be reeeeally special if you bought this just for me." It was the truth. In his eyes, Makoto held more importance to him than most others, aside from his merry band of thieves.

She loved him. And he loved her. Completely.

Once he set the box on a nearby bench, he stepped forward and placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head. Screw it if anyone happened to be around there at the time! It was Valentine's Day after all, so he could display as much PDA as he desired. "Thank you, dear. Let's share these together later on today. Perhaps in the student council office? After school hours~?"

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.

wc. 1.5k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines

“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.

you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.

everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.

“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.

you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.

you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”

you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.

you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.

the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.

sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”

your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.

“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.

the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.

you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.

there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.

“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.

unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.

you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.

“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.

however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.

you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.

sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.

“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.

you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.

“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.

sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.

the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.

the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.

which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.

sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”

CR. STTORU 2024

[like-wuatafauq]

Hope u are having a nice day!

☆*:.｡.╰ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ╯.｡.:*☆

I'm being doing well and playing Minecraft! Im glad u been nicer to yourself lately.

Oh do u like the ocean? I found a nice site about the Ocean! It's really fun! https://neal.fun/deep-sea/

Hello yes! I'm actually spending some time with my cousin so it's very nice cuz I've missed her<3

Omg minecraft!!! That's like the 2D version of Legos so I love that :) and yeah I needed to be nicer to myself cuz I too need to be treated with care.

Also I do love the ocean! I just checked the site and I love learning about the animals and facts about the ocean. I'm more of a "how can we take care of the ocean" rather than "I wanna dive as deep as I can" person tho, im not a very good swimmer😅 thanks for the site! Let me know if you know any other ones cuz I love learning random things :)

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ the "dying" wolverine ]❜

ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ taking care of logan when he’s sick┊0.8k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, established relationship

➤ author's note: i’m feeling like shit so i’m making him suffer with me

what part of regenerative healing don’t you understand? it’s impossible for him to get sick in any capacity as his immune system is stronger than the adamantium in his body, so feel free to read any of the other logan fics written by all the amazing writers on this platform!!

but let’s say that he somehow contracted a special bug that managed to get past all that and managed to make him fall ill, requiring you to take care of him while wade goes on a mission to figure out what’s wrong with him…

this headstrong two-hundred-year mutant who can take stab wounds without flinching and is an invincible tank in battles will be the whinest son of the bitch. he always lets his guard down around you, but he’s the most vulnerable and immature that he’ll ever allow himself to be around anyone since he can’t remember the last time (or if he has ever in his life) felt so shitty. shivering despite being feverish and covered up in blankets which just made him sweaty and uncomfortable, an itchy nose that wouldn’t sneeze when he needed it to, coughing his lungs out every two minutes— it’s so alien to him.

when you finally show up to look after him, he’ll have uncharacteristically big puppy eyes as you gently place your hand on his forehead to gauge how bad it is. “how are you feeling, lo?”

“i feel like i’m going to fucking die.” there are several discarded tissues and water bottles overfilling the nearby trashcan, but it was clear that he had no idea how he was supposed to make himself feel better and suffering.

“i can tell,” you chuckle at how dramatic he sounds and it makes him frown, but he’s just so thankful that you’re here to take care of him (he doesn’t exactly trust al to do it, that woman is a bit too mysterious and cryptic for him, and the medicine she offered smelled funny even to his dulled senses). “let me go make you some soup.”

he doesn’t want you to leave at first because your cold skin feels so good against him, but he’ll lightly doze off for a bit now that he’s more comfortable and feels safer. don’t expect him to stay asleep for long though, he’ll get up from his little while you’re in the middle of cooking chicken vegetable soup to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on top of yours until you finish.

“why are there barely any vegetables in the fridge? i could only find half a carrot and wilted celery.”

“i don’t think anyone here eats that stuff.”

“logan, you need to eat your greens— all you guys do, how are all three of you in such good shape then?!”

“eh.”

he can’t make anything more complicated than butter noodles, wade sets nearly everything on fire, he feels slightly guilty eating the food made by an elderly blind lady when he’s already freeloading at the moment, and constantly ordering take-out becomes expensive. you’ve given some food in tupperware for him to eat up, but it isn’t quite the same. as if being sick didn’t make him miserable enough, he’s so fucking pissed that he couldn’t properly taste your freshly-cooked food and will make it known.

you scoff that it’s just soup and pour it out in a bowl for him to eat, but you’ll quickly find yourself spoon-feeding him. yes, his hands still work with perfectly fine motor functions. no, you’re not passing up the opportunity to baby him while he rolls his eyes (he’ll grunt at most and doesn’t say a word of protest, claiming that he’s merely allowing it since he’s too tired to fight with you over it and very glad no one could see it happening).

“here comes the airplane~”

“i’m a grown-ass man, don’t be ridiculous.”

“a grown-ass man without an ounce of whimsy in his life, open your fucking mouth and eat.”

this is one of the lower points in his life where he doesn’t quite understand why this is happening to him yet, so you obviously have give him as much affection as possible! keeping a cold glass of water nearby and a wet rag to dab on his face, he rests his head upon your thighs and you swear that you can hear him purring like a kitten. there’s not better pillow than his lover, soft, warm, and full of love as you hum a song to lull him to sleep.

“let’s get married one day…” he not sure how that slipped past his lips, it might be the fever talking for him, or the fact that he’s completely relaxed without any tension in his muscles and feeling himself falling in love all over again when you smile so sweetly at him

“okay, but you need to sleep and get better first.” you place a gentle kiss on his forehead until his eyes slowly drift shut, “i love you, logan.”

[sebscore]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 

author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 

masterlist

''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 

The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 

Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 

In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 

As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 

Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 

That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 

''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 

''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.

The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 

Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 

She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 

Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 

''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 

Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 

She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 

Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 

''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 

''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 

''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 

She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 

''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 

They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 

''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 

''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 

''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 

Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 

It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 

The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 

The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 

''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 

Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 

''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 

''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.

''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 

Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 

''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 

The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''

The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 

''Thank you.'' 

With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 

Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 

Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.

She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 

Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 

It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 

She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 

His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 

''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 

She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 

Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 

''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 

He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 

She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 

''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 

''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 

''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 

Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 

He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 

''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 

''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 

''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 

Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 

''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 

His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 

''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 

''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 

She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 

That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 

She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 

A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 

The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 

She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 

As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.

Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 

Are they still friends? 

The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 

As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.

The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 

Are they still friends? 

story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)

[princessbrunette]

bountyhunter!rafe finally trusted you to sit behind him on the horse. he knew you weren’t going to jump off and take off. where would you go? you were in the middle of nowhere.

for a while you were lethargic, cheek pressed to rafe’s warm back with the only sound for a long time being the clip-clopping of horse shoes on the desert sand. you had a hat balanced on your head today. one like the ones rafe wore, all cowboyish. he said he wouldn’t be able to deal with you getting all sick from the sun. after a while, rafe breaks the silence — which is surprising, because usually he’s too grumpy to converse.

“collectin’ another bounty today… by the way.” he informs you, and you lift your head, glancing at the small town appearing on the horizon before you.

“hm?”

“yeah uh, some chick. ‘bout your age. apparently shes been stickin’ her nose where it doesn’t belong so uh, yeah. gotta hand her off to some outlaw.” he shrugs, focused on what’s infront of him. an unfamiliar and grotesque feeling slides down from your chest and settles in your stomach. a girl. your age.

“why have you gotta do that? you don’t need to be catching more bounties. where’s she gonna go anyway? there’s no more room on the horse.” you huff, still a little disorientated from being in and out of a nap against rafe’s back.

“we’re not going anywhere on the horse, kid. she’s up in this town here. did some real bad stuff, i’m talkin’ real slimy criminal shit. gonna hold her up in a motel with me ‘til the guy comes n’gets her. i’ll get my pay and — and don’t worry alright, you’re not gonna be in any danger you’ll be waiting in the diner across the street so… it’s fine.” he sounds a little irritated to be explaining it all to you. the thought of him in a motel alone with this girl pushed some immature feelings to the surface, some that you weren’t proud of.

“what do you need more money for?” you’re getting whiny now and you see his jaw clench.

“you think it’s cheap draggin’ you from town to town? paying for— for your little motel trips and food? no. i gotta take care of us ‘cause you’re no good for any of that.” he lectures you, and you dig your fingernails into the saddle.

“you don’t need her! find someone else.” you raise your voice a little, and surprisingly— rafe doesn’t say a thing. however, the silence does little to soothe you. in a moment, he arrives to a fence and jumps off before yanking you down and ropes up his horse to the wooden panel, planning on leaving it there for the day with the trough and bowl of water nearby. when he’s set the horse up, he turns back to you — looking at you like he’d just noticed you were there as he walks right up to you, wiping his hands on his jeans. leaning down to your height, he speaks more quietly with a pissed off edge to his voice.

“i’on wanna hear any more jealous tantrums today, a’ight? i’m doin’ this — for, for— hey—” when you look away shamefully with a pout he grips your jaw and turns you back to look at him. “i’m doin’ this for us. for you. alright so… so you should be thanking me if anything.” he blinks grouchily before letting go and swaggering past you, assuming you’d follow. you did.

you sat in that diner for hours. he’d set you up with a platter of buttered waffles and grits and sausages— all things that were considered a luxury when travelling out on the open desert. he’d taken one more glance at your sad little face peering up at him before heading out the door, with no more than a demand not to talk or look at anyone whilst he’s gone. it was a risk leaving you there, you both knew it — but some things just had to be done. it was more of a risk to take you with him anyway.

you felt all sick and anxious the whole time he was gone. not just because you were on your own surrounded by strangers and mysterious cowboys, but because you couldn’t stop imagining rafe in there with that girl. a motel room. you wondered if they both sat on the bed together. whether they talked, shared experiences. maybe he showed a bit of remorse to her, like he did with you. she was a criminal after all, just like him — perhaps he’ll decide she’s a more worthy partner to travel with, now that he’d decided to keep you all to himself instead of handing you off. maybe they’ll kiss. maybe he won’t come back to get you.

your spiralling thoughts are interrupted by rafe arriving back at your side hours later. he glances at the plate of untouched food and presses his lips together, about to tell you off for wasting his money. when you look round at him, your eyes are all red and there are tears on your cheeks. whatever words he was about to spew die in on his tongue and he sighs, crouching down beside where you sit in the booth.

“hey. what happened?”

you don’t say anything, opting to look at your hands instead. he sighs, biting his tongue before standing back up to full height. “alright. move up.” he gives you a light push to signal you to move up along the worn leather bench and you do so.

once sat besides you, he grabs your cutlery and starts to fork up a mouthful to feed you. “you gotta eat, okay? i paid for this shit.” he speaks softly, lifting the fork to your lips and shovelling it in as soon as you open them just a little.

“its cold.” you garble miserably as he shovels a few mouthfuls past his own lips, hungry after the day he’d had.

“should’ve thought of that, alright— open.” he feeds you another mouthful. you give in, realising now that you were so hungry that you didn’t even mind the food being cold. relaxing a little, you lean against his shoulder slightly, deflating as he feeds you. “yeah, see. spoiled.” he mutters.

you head back to the motel as the sun goes down, your skin feeling relieved of the constant beating down of the sun, replaced by a cooler breeze over the dunes. the motel is an old and rickety one, but it would do. rafe had purchased the room until tomorrow, so the two of you figured you’d use it and get a good nights sleep. he dumps the bags by the door when you enter, and you walk in slowly — taking a look around. your stomach cramps with that feeling again as you look at the bed. the sheets were still tidy, and made — but you still wondered.

rafe follows your eyes as he walks in behind you, glancing between you and the bed. “what? not good enough?” he shrugs a shoulder.

“did she sit on the bed?” you ask quietly and he squints.

“wh— who? the bounty?”

you nod and he scoffs, wandering past you. “no. locked that bitch in the bathroom, alright — she wouldn’t shutup.”

you know it’s wrong, and you shouldn’t. but you feel this sick sense of pride, like in a way you’d won something. you were not sure what exactly, but it satisfied a side to you that you didn’t know you had.

he clocks onto the small, prideful smile on your face and he blinks, resisting an eye roll.

“jesus christ. c’mere, yeah?”

rafe sits on the bed, spreading his legs and patting a knee for you to sit down. you do so without question, in disbelief that there was a time that you’d scream, cry and refuse anything like that. once you’re perching on him, he speaks.

“not getting rid of you, alright— i can see that look on your face. y’know it’s a little ridiculous getting jealous i—i kidnapped you, kind of. okay? but that’s… in the past now. i’m with you. just… behave… and cheer up. paid for the food, paid for the motel — you’re lucky i don’t put you to work to earn your keep.” he pats your ass, signalling for you to stand. “now go shower. we’re leavin’ this place at sun up.”

you wander towards the screen bathroom door before turning back round to look at him with a small and demure smile.

“i’m just happy you came back to get me.”

rafe raises an eyebrow. “the hell are you talking about? i will always come back for you.”

[crushmeeren]

heyy idk if this is where we put requests but by any chance could you do the mha boys reacting to you putting on the pheromone perfume and you smelling hella good possibly resulting in something freaky ( denki, shinsou or bakugo) or anyone is fine🙏🏾

⋆⋅ I love this idea! I did twist this a bit, it’s basically the love potion “amortentia,” from Harry Potter but as a perfume. Why the fuck is so hard for me to shorten things down when I write, so here, have this. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

All characters aged up/18+. ❲ ̽ ⋆ FEM READER ̽ ⋆❳

⋆⋅ Between the ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ symbols are memories of reader and whichever character!

Thank you @pastelbakugou for helping me figure what to write for Shinsou. ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

⋆ ft. kaminari, shinsou, bakugou, todoroki ⋆

..⃗. master list link

The sickly sweet scent of vanilla ice cream infused with honey is what overwhelms Katsuki’s senses first when he leans in and hugs you in greeting. You squeeze him back just as affectionately and he’s in the middle of nosing at your throat when he’s hurtled back in time through his memories.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Katsuki mutters hotly. He’s trying, key word trying, to wipe the sweat covering his phone screen onto his tank top but it fails miserably, seeing as how his shirt is soaked fucking through. He’s more or less just smearing it around and he’s debating on just obliterating the useless piece of shit phone.

He curses whoever the fuck is up there and uses sheer willpower not to tear his hair out from the roots because of this scorching heat wave.

Finally, he’s able to read his latest message from you. It tells him to meet you at the ice cream stand nearby his patrol route on his next break.

Katsuki wipes the back of his forehead with a glove free hand, but it slides right across his sticky skin and then sweat drips into his other eye with a harsh sting and goddammit, he’s royally fucking pissed off now.

For your sake, he swallows his swelling rage and makes his way to you swiftly. The two of you have tried to make it a habit to meet a couple times a week when Katsuki has time during his shifts, he gets so busy that sometimes it gets hard to see each other as often as you’d like.

As always, his heart stutters when he lands a few feet from you. The tension drains from his shoulders even as he witnesses drops of sweat being flung off his jaw from the impact of landing and coloring the light gray pavement darker.

You look so, so pretty in your sundress and Katsuki’s stomach swoops when a sweet smile lights up your features. You reach out a cup of ice cream for him to try, teasing him for looking like he’s just taken a shower but he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and takes a bite of the treat. Katsuki practically moans when cool cream melts on his tongue. He feels infinitely better.

The sun beats down harshly on you both, but it brightens your eyes and the playful way you blow a coy kiss at him when you part ways leaves him with fingers crunching the empty cup and pants that fit a bit too snug. God, he’s disgustingly in love with you.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Kat?” Your concerned tone brings him back to the present. Katsuki can’t stand another minute with your clothes on and hauls you up with a rough grip to the backs of your thighs. You yelp in surprise and scramble to hold onto his shoulders as he strides towards your bedroom.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to smell this way, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and I’m fuckin’ you until you pass out. Understood?”

How could you ever hope to say no?

When you’re both naked and tangled in the sheets, Katsuki pushes one of your legs to your chest, curls his fingers around your throat, and pushes his forehead against yours as he stretches your tight pussy out completely with his thick cock. He stays true to his word, hand gripping your jaw and forcing your eyes to stay locked with his own ferocious stare when you grit your teeth and cum.

Then he kisses your forehead afterwards when you’re fast asleep.

Muscle memory tilts Shouto’s head to the side as he leans closer to sniff you curiously, an adorable habit that he’s never been able to break when he wants answers to something.

“What is that?”

“What is what, Sho?”

“You smell like the end of a campfire. Why?”

You raise an eyebrow and saunter closer to where he sits at his desk, his office quiet with most heroes currently out of the building. You step around the corner of his desk and hop up on the edge to sit next him, feet kicking gently.

“That’s important to you? A campfire? Huh I would’ve thought you’d smell something like soba,” you comment with a shrug, half smile tugging at your lips.

Now Shouto’s thoroughly confused.

“I don’t understand. Why would you smell of soba? Are you alright?” Shouto sounds as deadpan as usual, if not slightly concerned. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, staring at you as if he could find the answer by checking out your body. It makes you laugh.

Animatedly, you explain to him about the new “perfume,” Mina let you try. Apparently, whoever wears it prompts the object of their affections to smell whatever scent is important/attractive to them. And suddenly Shouto gets it

“Oh, I see,” he says with an understanding nod. He can narrow it down specifically as to why you smell of a campfire on a cold night.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Sho, are you sure we can’t just use your quirk to roast these marshmallows? It’s so much faster!” You protest halfheartedly, but you’re already stabbing one of the fluffy sweets with a stick, assembling a second one for Shouto.

“No. This will be more fun, I promise. I watched Touya-nii and the others do this once, it seemed as if they were very happy afterwards.” Shouto flicks his hand and fire shoots towards the pile of sticks, engulfing them until a decent fire roars.

This sobers you considerably, and Shouto sits down next to you, accepting the offering of marshmallow on a stick happily and oblivious to the depressing sentiment he just offered.

So, you roast marshmallows. You tease each other and laugh as you assemble the s’mores and then lean into Shouto’s left side to fend off the chill of the autumn night afterwards. The stars are brighter away from the city and Shouto has always enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. His heart is close to bursting from his chest every time you laugh and he blurts what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere and Shouto only feels nervous for a few seconds before you return his feelings. Shouto’s dragging you into the tent before you can blink.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

In hindsight, at least to Shouto, he understands exactly why you smell like a campfire. With slightly rosy cheeks and a matter of fact tone, he recounts the memory for you and he’s sure his hair’s about to catch fire from the way you’re looking at him.

Without caring to lock the door, the two of you end up reliving part of that memory.

Shouto pushes you until you’re flat on your back on his desk, sliding your pants off and making sure your ass is on the edge of it. He drops to his knees and eats your pussy until your thighs squeeze his head.

And when you beg him to fuck you, he bends you over the desk and presses his cock inside you roughly. The snaps of his hips are frantic, and when there’s a knock at the door, all Shouto does is cover your mouth with one hand and keep going until you’re seeing stars.

“Denki!”

Said blonde whips around at the muffled call of his name. Denki feels his smile aching in the apples of his cheeks as he watches you weave through the crowd of people on the dance floor to get to him. You grin in return and wave warmly, which makes his pulse run overtime.

“Baby!” Denki almost squeals, yanking you in for a crushing hug when you get close enough. “You made it! I thought you got lost,” he says teasingly against your ear and you lean back to laugh and punch him in the arm. You crowd into his space once again so he can hear you but an overpowering and delicious scent of coffee and rain pushes up Denki’s nose.

He startles, head jerking back and brows shooting up. Your expression turns questioning but Denki cuts you off before you can speak.

“Holy shit baby, you smell super good. Like, fucking amazing! What are you wearing? It makes me want to rip your clothes off,” He says enthusiastically, tangling your hands together in the process.

“Oh! It’s this new perfume. Well, technically it’s not a perfume but honestly I didn’t think it would work! I assumed it was a scam.” You give him a run down of how it’s supposed to work and he suddenly comes to the realization of why you smell like coffee and rain of all things that could be important to him.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Oww,” Denki whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it quickly.

“Did you burn your tongue?” You bump his shoulder playfully, taking care not to spill your own coffee. “I told you it would be hot, it’s a latte Denki,” you scold him good naturedly, trying not to laugh. He pouts at you, blowing into the lid in hopes to cool it off.

“Well I didn’t expect it to be the surface temperature of the sun!” Denki protests, gingerly taking another sip and humming in contentment when he finds it’s cooled off enough to be drinkable. You laugh again, but then Denki almost runs into your back when you stop abruptly in front of the glass door exit.

“It’s raining! Shit, I didn’t bring an umbrella. How are we supposed to make it back to the station?”

Denki studies the way it’s pouring cats and dogs, before making a noise of triumph and pointing to a bench under an awning not too far away.

“We can go wait for a bus over there!”

You side eye him. “Fine, but if I spill my coffee, you’re buying me a new one.”

The two of you take off, and in true Denki fashion, he trips and spills his coffee everywhere. By the time you both make it to the awning, you’re both soaked to the bone and breathless from laughing.

“Here,” you offer Denki your coffee with a grin, water dripping from the ends of your hair.

“You don’t have to share baby, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I love you, Denki.”

Your boyfriend short circuits.

“Dammit Denki! Those were the only two lampposts on this street, now I can’t see anything!”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Denki blinks the memory away and spins you, pulling your back flush to his chest. His body is a long, lean line of muscle as he moves your bodies to the beat and murmurs in your ear.

“Let me take you home and show you just how well this perfume works on me, my dick is hard as a fucking rock baby,” Denki giggles, squeezing your hips when you shove your ass back into his pelvis.

The two of you abandon your friends quick enough to race home, stripping carelessly in your living room until Denki can bend you over the armrest of the couch. He guides his cock inside you unhurriedly, pushing until his pelvis is nestled snug to your ass.

A breathy moan escapes him, and then he’s fucking your pussy as if he could never get enough.

He never will.

Hitoshi’s exhausted when he gets home from work late that night. Being an underground hero is rewarding, but it certainly comes with its downfalls.

He closes the front door delicately and toes off his shoes by the door. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way down the hall and into your bedroom, a tiny half smile worming its way into his expression despite his bone aching weariness when he spots you sound asleep in bed. He pauses to stare at you for a moment.

Hitoshi then showers as fast as humanly possible before crawling under the blankets and curling an arm around your waist, tugging you close until he can nose at the back of your neck. You sigh in your sleep and smuggle closer into his embrace.

Hitoshi trails his nose down the side of your neck and he freezes once he gets to your shoulder. You smell….good. Insanely fucking good, and he can’t quite pinpoint the specific scent but it’s soft and warm and maybe even a little musky. It sends warm blood rushing south and his cock twitches with interest.

He wracks his brain and the only thing he can associate with the scent is your cat, Kiko, when she was a kitten and you first brought her home.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi’s in the middle of playing a game when you return home that day, calling out for him to come to the living room for a second.

“Why?” He yells back. He’s just about to finish this round.

“Just come out here you dick!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but is amused nonetheless by your slightly frustrated tone. He pauses his game and makes his way to where you wait, but stops in his tracks, lips parting in shock and eyes going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

You’re cradling an itty bitty, all black, fluff ball of a kitten in your arms. You grin delightedly at his shocked expression and hold her out almost as if you’re offering her to him.

“You wanted a kitten right? An all black one, like the one you had as a kid at Aizawa’s.”

Hitoshi manages to close his mouth and nod, cautiously reaching out to take the small creature and cradle her to his chest.

He…can’t believe you remembered. You remembered how much his cat had meant to him and went out of your way to find this kitten.

“Thank you,” he says softly, petting the purring kitten’s head with one finger. You step closer and do the same, scratching under her chin until she meows.

“What should we name her?”

“Kiko,” Hitoshi responds with no hesitation, glancing at you for approval and you smile back at him.

“I love it.”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi blinks back to the present, the fond memory lingering at the edges of his mind. He remembers how his heart squeezed against his rib cage in the best kind of way that day and how he knew then he wanted to marry you.

“Baby,” Hitoshi whispers lowly as he kisses your cheek. You stir enough to lazily flip over and hum in question. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, love you too Hitoshi,” you mumble, sleepy rasp coloring your voice.

Hitoshi bends down to kiss you sweetly, encouraging you to throw a leg over his hips and straddle his waist. He settles you on top of him and wiggles a hand between you to shove his briefs down, cock stiff since he first smelled you, and slides your panties to the side.

Your limbs are still laced and heavy with sleep when Hitoshi helps you sink down on his cock. You melt into his chest, face buried in his throat and arms locked around his neck.

He bends his knees and grips your ass to help you sensually ride him, rocking up into you at a leisurely pace until the warmth finally bubbles over the edge and you cum with a shiver and he follows right behind you.

When he asks you about it the next day, it all clicks into place when you give him the watered down version of how the “perfume” works.

He hums noncommittally before asking you to wear it again.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - not a babysitter

x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

(requests open)

SUMMARY: when reader goes out with her friends, she has one too many drinks

WORD COUNT: 1071

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language, soft enemies to lovers-ish

NOT PROOFREAD :D

the evening had started off well, jean, scott, storm and you decided to take a rare night off from saving the world and head out to take a rare night off from saving the world and head out into the city for a drinks. jean insisted on dragging logan along, you disagreed with her idea. unsurprisingly logan also scoffed at the idea of ‘playing babysitter to a bunch of kids’.

so he stayed behind, probably sulking around the mansion that he couldn’t go to his favourite bar because you were there, basked in the noise and energy of the place.

hours had passed since you left. while jean and scott had started doing shots, and storm was handling her drinks like a champ, you might’ve had a few too many. okay, maybe more than a few. you leaned against the bar, eyes half-lidded, and grinning lazily at nothing in particular. talking to a man who was as equally as drunk as you, about how you barely had any time for yourself and that you felt so free right now.

jean spotted you talking to the stranger, and stepped in the middle of the conversation. “excuse us,” jean dragged you away to sit somewhere else. “she’s… a little out of it,” storm noticed and put her hand on your warm face. jean glanced at scott, who rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“yeah,” he muttered. “we should probably get her back to the mansion,” jean replied.

scott was already calling logan.

“can't you just call anyone else?” logan growled into the phone, his voice was low as he rested against the wall in his room. “it’s your night out, not mine.”

“because, logan,” scott’s voice crackled through the phone. he sounded exasperated as usual. “you’re the only person who is awake at this hour.”

logan groaned. “and you can’t call an uber because..?”

“well, because we’re in the middle of absolutely nowhere. no ubers are available out here, and the only taxi service said it’d take over an hour.”

“and, we were planning on staying a little longer but she’s too drunk for that,” scott begged.

logan pinched the bridge of his nose. as much as he wanted to pretend he didn’t give a damn about anyone at the mansion, you were different. that might be the reason what pisses him off so much.

you two had this strange tension, maybe it was because of your big mouth and how you’d call him out on his attitude. or maybe it was the way you were always so close to jean, scott and storm- so carefree with them while you constantly butted heads with him.

it got under his skin, and not in a good way.

but still, something about the thought of leaving you drunk and vulnerable didn’t sit right with him.

logan sighed. “fine, i’ll be there in twenty,” he grumbled.

logan arrived at the bar in less than fifteen minutes, his scott’s car rumbling. he stepped inside, his eyes immediately spotted you slouched in the booth, laughing to yourself while jean and scott hovered nearby. storm, was leaning against the wall, observing everything with her usual calm, though her eyes flickered with concern.

logan strode over, hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. “alright, where is she?”

scott sighed in relief and motioned towards you. "right here. thanks, logan."

“yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, bending down to scoop you up effortlessly. “why is it always me cleaning up after you people?”

“you’re just a sweetheart, logan,” storm smirked from her corner.

“don’t you start, storm.”

you giggled in his arms, clearly not fully aware of your surroundings. “logannn.. you smell like, pine trees and… grumpiness.”

he looked at you. “that’s cause you’re too drunk to smell anything else.”

you nuzzled closer, surprising him, your voice slurred. “you’re always so mean to me.”

“that’s because you’re a pain in my ass,” he retrieved, but his words lacked the usual bite they always had.

you were half asleep in logan’s arms, when he carried you inside the mansion. he carefully set you down on your bed, pulling off your shoes with a surprising gentleness for someone who was usually so tough around the edges.

you stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open as you blinked up at him. “you didn’t have to come for me, you know.”

hé grunted, crossing is arms as he leaned against your door. “yeah, apparently i’m the only one who’s got nothin’ better to do.”

you squinted your eyes at him, your drunken haze making your usual sharpness duller but still present. “you really don’t like me, huh?”

logan stared at you for a moment, “it’s not like that. you just… you get under my skin.”

curiosity replaced some of the fuzziness in your mind. “why?”

“because you’re always with them,” he admitted. “jean, scott, storm, hell even hank! it’s like you don’t need anyone else. you don’t need me.”

you blinked up at him, your heart unexpectedly fluttering. “logan,” you whispered, “i don’t just hang out with them ‘cause i don’t like you. i just thought… you didn’t care.

he ran a hand through his unruly hair, sighing. “maybe i care more than i let on.”

the air between you shifted, for a moment, the familiar tension still here but now mixed with something softer. vulnerability, understanding.

you sat up slightly, leaning against the headboard. "you know, you're not as bad as you think you are.”

there was a faint smile tugging at logans lips as he scoffed. "don't let anyone else hear you say that."

you let out a chuckle, and logan couldn't help but feel something loosen in his chest. you looked at him with something different in your eyes, something less hostile and more.. fond.

"stay?" you asked quietly, surprising yourself as much as him. logan hesitated a bit, then slowly nodded. he pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in without a word. he wasn't good at being close to people, but for you, he might make an exception.

you gave him a smile as you drifted off to sleep, and logan watched you for a moment longer, feeling a strange warmth spread through him. maybe you weren't as bad as he'd convinced himself you were.

and maybe, just maybe, this wasn't the worst way to spend a night.

[finelinefae]

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 

“M her brother,” He corrected. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 

She paused, “Any friends?” 

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles. 

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 

“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased. 

“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! &lt;;33

[moonpascal]

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

©𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 2024

[beauty-brains-braun]

Better

Hawks wants to get back together. Your best friend Bakugo has some thoughts on that.

mdni 18+

Pairings: Bakugo/fem reader, mentioned Past Hawks/ fem reader

Tags/TW:  Smut, Aged-Up Characters, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Jealousy

Your eyes tracked Keigo as he crossed the bar, stopping every few seconds to chat with one person or another. He hadn't spotted you yet. You'd really like to be looking elsewhere once he did but you couldn't seem to look away.

If you’d known he’d be here, you would have stayed home. Shouldn’t he have been off being an asshole somewhere else? How could he possibly fit this party into his busy schedule of preening and backstabbing? His head started to turn in your direction and you looked away so fast you felt your neck pop.

Katsuki Bakugo was sneering at you when you looked his way. “When are you going to get over that loser?”

“I am over him. He just infuriates me.” You lean a little closer to your best friend. “You wouldn’t be interested in flirting with me real quick though, by any chance?”

He snorted so hard, he almost choked on his beer. “No chance in hell, you better find Kirashima.”

You put your hand on his arm and laughed a touch too loudly, leaning against him. Kiri was not going to get the job done, Keigo had always been insanely jealous of your friendship with Katsuki and what would truly heal you was pissing the feathered man off.

“You have got to be joking.” Katsuki said, blinking incredulously. “This is you flirting? How do you keep finding boyfriends?” He held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe this is exactly why you only date losers.”

“Ouch” You put your hand to your chest. “Let’s walk that back several feet. I am excellent at flirting, I just usually have a partner who gives me something to work with.”

“You want something to work with?” He asked, setting down his beer.

“It would be ni-” You were cut off as he pulled from your stool, and spun you so your back touched the bar. You blinked rapidly in shock as your eyes met his crimson pair, sparkling deviously.

Katsuki’s arms brushed against yours where he caged you in and he leaned forwards, placing his mouth next to your ear. “Like this?”

Your throat was suddenly extremely dry and you struggled to respond, eventually just deciding to nod. A mistake because his mouth brushed your skin at the movement and lightning tingled up your spine.

He leaned back, just far enough to see your face, and you noticed his devious expression had been replaced by something else. Something you struggled to recognize.

A throat cleared nearby, startling you both. You looked up to find Keigo standing there, face twisted into a frown and eyes burning with annoyance. You’d forgotten he was even here.

“Keigo. What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he asked and you almost smirked at the tone in his voice. Pissing him off had not been hard.

“We are talking, unfortunately.”

“Can we talk privately?”

“Fuck off, Hawks. She’s busy.” Katsuki glared hard at Hawks and the other man’s eyes narrowed in response. You sighed loudly, suddenly annoyed with both of them. They had always hated each other, though in all fairness Katsuki hated anyone higher than him on the hero chart. Privately, you thought he’d pass Hawks soon but the thought had always felt like a betrayal.

“Let’s not start, guys. You’re going to ruin Mina’s birthday. Again. Remember last year’s incident? With the cake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but Keigo turned back to you. “Can we just go outside and talk then? Please. Just for a minute.”

“Fine.” You gave in, too tired to fight him. You’d never been all that good at saying no to him.

“This is not a good idea.” Katsuki growled, turning back to you, arms still caging you in.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, placing your hand on his arm briefly, before moving out of his hold and following Keigo outside.

***********

Forty-five minutes later you were in your shower, letting the hot water wash the day off of your shoulders. You were alone, exhausted, and a little too proud of yourself for successfully holding your ground. Keigo had wanted to get back together but you’d told him no. He’d hurt you too badly. He’d demanded to know if something was going on with you and Katsuki. You told him what you did was none of his damn business anymore. He had made sure of that. After your talk you were left more confident than before that you were over him but you’d just wanted to get out of there so you texted Katsuki and Mina and came home. You were going to have to do some serious groveling to Mina but that was a problem for tomorrow..

You were turning off the water when someone began pounding loudly on your front door. Wrapping a giant towel around yourself, you went to answer it. Confused as to who would be knocking on your door like they’d like to break it down, you pulled it open suddenly, blinking in surprise to find Katsuki standing there, fist flying uselessly through the air as he tried to keep banging on a door that was no longer there.

“Is something wrong??” You looked him over for an injury.

Katsuki glared at you. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” You asked, confused. “Are you mad I left because-”

“Yes, I’m mad you left! That asshole completely shredded your heart and you still leave with him? Where the fuck is he? I’m going to kick his ass.” Katsuki pushed past you into your apartment and disappeared into your bedroom.

Wait. He thought you’d left with Keigo? You followed him. “Katsuki, no one else is here. Not that it’s any of your business, actually, but I told Keigo to leave me alone.”

“Not my business?” He asked, voice raising slightly. “Who has to hear about it every single time your shitty taste in men comes back to bite you in the ass? Who has spent a decade watching you choose wrong again and again?”

Ouch. Your chest hurt suddenly and you turned away from him. Katsuki had always been there for you and it had never occurred to you that he resented it. “Sorry, I’ll just keep my poor choices to myself from now on.” You tried to walk away but his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” You turned to look at him, fighting tears.

“I’m saying choose better.” He pulled you closer seconds before his mouth crashed into yours.

The lighting you felt up your spine at the bar earlier returned, this time coursing through your entire body. You were frozen in shock, the last thing you’d ever expected was Katsuki to kiss you.

He pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you obviously aren’t interested in-”

You didn’t let him finish the sentence, pulling him back to you and kissing him this time. He kissed you back immediately, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you as close to him as you could get. His other hand, he brought up to cup your neck and you shivered at the feeling of his skin on yours. Your nipples hardened and you were suddenly very aware that the only thing you were wearing was a towel.

Katsuki’s mouth left yours and he trailed kisses down your jaw and to your neck, making you gasp. “Can I taste you? “ He asked suddenly and heat flared through you. “I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.” His crimson eyes were dark with lust and you found yourself nodding. The sight of him dropping to his knees before you would be cemented into your brain until you died. He reached for the edge of the towel and tugged firmly, eyes drinking you in the moment it dropped away.

“Fuck” he whispered. His fingers brushed your skin, trailing up your legs almost reverently to grasp your legs and spread them. His lips touched your skin, kissing your inner thighs, before he turned his head and his tongue found your clit then snaked down to your entrance, lapping up the juices he found there then returning his attention to your clit until your legs shook and threatened to collapse. He pulled away, looking up into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Katsuki got to his feet and kissed you so deeply, you could taste yourself on his tongue. He moved you both back a few steps and laid you down onto your bed before stepping back and removing his shirt. Your eyes drank in his muscles greedily and then he removed his pants. Your eyes dipped lower and widened at the sight of his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips which were suddenly so so dry and Katsuki let out a low groan at the sight before he was back on top of you. His mouth was everywhere. On your mouth, your neck, then your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and biting lightly while his fingers push into you, stretching you around them. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as you felt pressure building in your lower stomach until you snapped, cumming around his fingers.

He removed his fingers quickly replacing them with the head of his cock. He put his fingers into his mouth, licking your juices from them as he slowly pushed inside you.

“Fuck” he grunted, head dropping to rest on your shoulder when he bottomed out deep inside you.

“Please” you whined, grinding your hips, needing friction. Needing him to freaking move.

“Hold on, I- fuck- I need a second or this is gonna be over before it starts.” He let out a deep breath then finally pulled back, almost all of the way out of you and thrust back in. “God, you’re perfect. Just for me.” He fucked in and out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot every time. “So wet and tight for me.”

“Katsuki” you whined, feeling amazing but needing more. “Harder please.”

He let out a rough laugh and pulled out of you, drawing a cry of protest from you. “So needy for me, huh?” He flipped you over, pressing your back down into the mattress with one hand and pulling your hips up with the other. He slammed back into you, immediately setting the rough pace you’d desperately needed. “Answer me.”

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, not sure he’d have been able to hear you over the smacking of his hips on your ass every time he bottomed out inside you.

“Such a good girl for me. You’re sucking me in so good.” His chuckle turns into a moan as your orgasm hits you and your pussy clenches his cock, milking it. He falls forward, hands gripping your sheets as you cum around him and he fights to keep the same pace, to keep fucking you through your orgasm.

You dimly register sparks in the corner of your vision and the sound of Katsuki cursing, but can’t concentrate on anything except for the longest, most amazing orgasm of your life. It makes sense for you to see fireworks really. You slowly come down from your high and register the scorched handprints on your sheets and Katsuki pulling out to cum on your thighs.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I- shit.” He’s staring at your sheets in concern but you laugh, pulling him down next to you.

“Worth it.” You tell him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled at you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Should probably go ahead and get a few backup sets while you’re at it.” You teased.

“You think so?” He rolled over, nuzzling into your neck and nibbling at the skin there. “I suppose these are already ruined… We might as well take advantage.”

“Already?” You asked, laughing.

A knock at your door interrupted his reply and you exchanged a confused look.

“Maybe we were too loud?” You suggested but an annoyed knowing look had settled on Katsuki’s face.

He got to his feet, pulling on his boxers on the way to your door.

The sound of Keigo’s voice had you sitting up in surprise. You wrapped the sheet around you and made it to your bedroom door.

Keigo stood in the doorway to your apartment, staring at Katsuki in open mouthed outrage.

“She’s taken.” Katsuki snapped, slamming the door in Keigo’s face before he had time to respond.

Katsuki turned around, smirking when his eyes landed on you. “Now where were we?”

[ceilidho]

prompt: you keep seeing apparitions of a dead special forces operative who's been haunting the barracks. (light angst; nsfw) (actual ghost simon riley)

-

War dogs chewed up and spat out by the machinery of war.

It is an incalculable blow to learn of his death. Worse still that you learn of it by happenstance, one officer talking to another, only listening in because it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him and their voices go hushed in that way that makes your ears prick up. You’re sitting at a nearby table in the canteen when someone says the single most devastating words that have ever been spoken near you.

“They weren’t able to recover the whole body, just some of it. Pretty gruesome. Don’t know if you ever met him, but he was an alright guy—pretty quiet. Scary, yeah, but—I don’t know. He was fair. Got the job done though. Soap’s taking it pretty hard.”

You barely breathe at the news. Something is squeezing your heart until it overfills on the other side. 

You walk around base in a daze after that. It’s not anyone’s fault that you aren’t notified—no one was supposed to know. Your whole arrangement with Simon was predicated on the knowledge that it would never be revealed to your commanding officers or the rest of the infantry. Made sense at the time. Makes less sense now when your world is falling apart and you have no way of even requesting Ghost’s dog tags. 

Pain holds you upright like a splint while it also tries to smother you. You crawl back to your barracks after training the recruits, voice a hoarse whisper in your throat. Showers are an optimal place to cry, when maybe you won’t be heard. Grief is not grief when there’s nowhere for it to go. 

Maybe Soap was privy enough to Ghost’s life to know. He doesn’t spend time with you, but you see him once from across the tarmac on a flight out and his gaze lingers on you. There are deep troughs under his eyes, dark even with the distance between you. His posture is still, rigid; despite his uniform being pressed and his hair being cut and gelled into place, there is something singularly heavy weighing him down.

He nods from across the way to you. You grit your jaw and nod back. 

It’s the only time you’ll ever acknowledge it. Soap never seeks you out after that—maybe it’s too painful. Maybe shared pain isn’t always enough. 

The worst is only finding out weeks later that Ghost has been buried. That’s your closure. An offhand comment from an operations officer on a smoke break. Your numb hand flicking a lighter. Rain breaking in the early twilight hours and you stand in it so long that you shiver and shake on your way back to your room. 

Lightning that crackles in the storm clouds, illuminating the place where you just stood outside while you stare from your window. Illuminating someone standing where you just were. You squint, but they round the bend to one of the other buildings before you can make them out. 

Every soldier has a story. Conducting barracks checks on staff duty only to find a soldier with half their jaw missing asking for a cigarette. A marine approaching a soldier asking for his rifle, garbed in a ripped vest from early Iraq. Squad bays known for apparitions, known for hauntings. Figures seen from the trees, the half-shadowed remains of old tanks, burned and hollowed out, suddenly upright and mobile. 

In certain barracks, soldiers won’t even leave their rooms at night to use the washroom. They’d rather piss in old bottles or hold off until morning light altogether. It’s common enough to be joked about, for soldiers to trade stories in the mess over supper, trying to spook each other with the things they’ve seen or claimed to see. 

You can tell the ones who’ve actually seen things from those who haven’t though. The ones who have are often quieter, often only laugh a little. The truth is buried in their inability to fully commit to the bit. It’s the knowing that does that.

Knowing that there are things that death cannot hide. 

The first time you see Simon again, it’s not a homecoming. You know there’s something very wrong. 

It’s 3am and someone’s standing in front of your door. You feel it before you see them, feel something like every single hair on your body standing on end and the sudden lucid thought in the middle of a dream that you need to wake up. That you need to wake up right now. 

Heart racing when your eyes snap open. Sweat already slicking the backs of your knees. You’re lying on your side, hands curled close to your face, and you feel its gaze on you like the heaviest dread you’ve ever felt in your life. You stare at the wall that your bed is pushed up against until you find the courage to roll over.

Just a shape in the dark. A dark shape. Distinct from the rest of the darkness in your room. Tall as it is wide. The slightest motion to it, like breathing or the gentle swaying of the human body when it’s allowed to be loose. 

There’s a lamp on your end table. You flick it on without tearing your eyes away from the dark shape looming by the door, but when light unveils your room, it flickers away like a bad illusion. Just a jacket hung up on the back of the door. Your heart races still. 

When the light goes off, the shadow doesn’t reappear.

It might not be him, but something’s haunting you. You spoon cereal into your mouth in the morning with a shaking hand. It’s the massive shape of a body behind the shower curtain in your private bathroom that has you certain—certain—that someone’s there until you whip it to the side and see only tile wall. You know what you saw though, and you know from the way the top of it peeked over the curtain that it was blond. 

Weeks go by. You’re in a bivy sack and a voice you recognize wakes you up for watch. It’s the same voice that used to rumble low in your ear when you let him into your bed on leave (you always used to take them at the same time, no one the wiser). You’re back on base in your room and something leans its full weight onto your bed. You wake up to him sitting on the edge of your bed, blood dripping from an old wound. Him though, skull mask and all. Eyes shadowed always, black staring at you seeing and unseeing. 

You don’t need to ask what he wants from you. He lumbers around the barracks like a wraith that only you can see. Never truer to his old moniker than he is in death. A civilian worker flirts with you one day and he winds up in the infirmary. Fell down the stairs, another sergeant tells you when you ask. You smile tight, brittle. If only. 

He slips into your bed at night when the lights are shut and you’ve turned over onto your side. You can’t see him, but the bed compresses under his weight like it did when he was alive. He’s still for a minute, stare heavy on you while you lie there motionless, waiting him out. When he finally lays a hand on your hip, you flinch at how normal it feels. Like he didn’t go out and die one day. Like it’s really him at your back dragging a hand down the curve of your hip and over your thigh.

He divests you of your pyjamas the same way he used to in motel rooms, your apartment off-base, his cabin up north that you still have the key to but can’t bring yourself to visit. You let him. Shorts pulled down and kicked to the bottom of the bed, then your underwear. Shirt rucked up so he can fit a big, rough hand over your tit. His hands are solid where they touch you, nothing ghostly about them. He squeezes like the memory of your flesh is half-gone, like he needs to sink himself into you again. 

“Missed…you…” His voice comes like a deep rumble, tectonic plates shifting over the asthenosphere. 

The hand on your breast slides up, over the delicate skin of your throat, over where your pulse goes mad and you dry swallow because there’s nothing in your mouth. Over and up the curve of your cheek, thumb pressing against your lips, curling your top lip up until you’re almost kissing it. Then he lets go, hand coming back down to your hip. 

“Simon, are you—” you start, cut off on a gasp when he lifts your leg over his hip and something presses against your opening. Notches there, sinks in hot inch after hot inch. Head spinning and breath wild when he spears you on his thick length, half-tumbling over you until you’re lying prone on your bed. Simon’s as heavy as you remember, the full weight of him keeping you trapped there. You can only take. You can only draw in a deep breath and let out the softest sounds while he presses in, 

“Had to…come back,” the ghost of your old lover says, growling into your ear. “Couldn’t…leave you here…alone.”

You wonder what’s really behind the mask this time. His hands and dick feel flesh enough, but fear still quivers in your belly because you know that whatever it is pressing you down with a firm hand on your shoulder blade, it’s not fully him. 

You’ve heard of ghosts haunting places but never people. There’s something achingly loyal about the way he fucks you though. It’s dark and hot under him, and he mouths where he can, mask pulled up finally. Not that you can see. Better that you can’t, maybe. Pulsing in and out of your cunt, silent but for his shallow intakes of breath. He feels enormous and terrifying at your back. 

A big arm still clad in his old uniform jacket is braced beside your head. Simon whispers apologies into your hair; that he pulled himself out of a grave for a second time because he couldn’t untangle his soul from yours, but he got it wrong this time around. He didn’t make it in time. 

“I won’t leave you though, love,” he says around kisses laid tender on the nape of your neck. He bites the meat of your shoulder hard enough to leave an imprint of his teeth. “Never gonna leave you.” His words make you slicker, hotter; tightening around him until he snarls and fucks more viciously. A promise you thought he couldn’t keep. 

In the morning, you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You take off your shirt and turn around. There’s a red bite mark on your upper left shoulder and it aches when you touch it.

[unluckilyimnot]

JEALOUS SAE HEADCANONS PLEASEEEEE

Jealous hc

Characters: sae, rin, kaiser, hiori, karasu, shidou

m.list | rules

Note: hiiii how are youuu thank you for your request hihi I had other characters bc I felt like doing it for them too

Sae Itoshi

he’s too prideful to be jealous, or he thinks so

in fact he get pissed off easily, anyone being a little to friendly with you bother him and he already doesn’t like anyone so imagine

he’s not subtile, even if he thinks he is

he’ll get closer, talk like shit to the person who’s flirting with you in his eyes

roll his eyes, click his tongue, you name it

Suddenly he wants to go home or leave for another place

You never honestly never thought you'll see him like that since he's confident and trusts you

I think he just doesn't like people and so by extension he hates people talking to you

He likes to think he's the only one who can make you smile like that, beside your friends (he's not insane)

So seeing some nobody making you smile, or even worst : laugh makes him jealous

He’s not into pda to save his life i think, that’s something he keeps behind closed doors

But oh man how he likes to kiss you when it happens, just to remind everyone that you're taken and you're proud of it

Be prepared to hear about this, he’s a nagging mom at heart

“Are you done ?” you’d ask and magically, yes he is

he will sulk yes, but close to you at least

Rin Itoshi

Bare with him, he acts tough but deep down he wants to cry

Just like his brother, he will get closer, his arm will probably stay around your shoulders after that

But he won’t be mean to them, just kinda ignore them or send death glare if they get too close

No touching, even in a friendly way, don’t be ridiculous

I think he appreciates it if you put a stop yourself

He’s more insecure than he likes to admit and it prove him that he can trust you

He’s gonna be clingy af though

When you two are finally alone, Rin won’t say a world but glue himself to you

He’ll need reassurance for sure :( this boy has abandon issues

Michael Kaiser

He’s an asshole (lovingly)

He let people flirt with you if it helps their ego and mock them for how long you can think, it’s almost an inside joke for him

The irony is that he’s really possessive, so it’s all fun and game until it’s not some loser that try to hit on you

Not that he feels threaten, please

But he still don’t wanna play with them and he doesn’t want you nearby

If you just happen to be friendly with someone then he’s bothered

What do you mean by being this happy to see someone else ?

He’ll ask a million questions and whine about it before brush it off as if he doesn’t care

It takes a lot to deal with him, his reaction depend on his phase

If he feels low then he’ll be a nightmare, you had to be sorry for someone hitting on you and tell him he’s your one and only

If he’s his confident self, it’s almost like he doesn’t care and let it happen

Being with him is a roller coaster

Tabito Karasu

Best man if is speak

He’s mature and he knows he’s projecting his own insecurity when he’s jealous, so he doesn’t make a big deal about it

He’s not gonna ruin the moment so he just keep his cool and act normally

Deep down you can feel there’s some awkwardness so you try to ask him silently, with your eyes or smile, if he’s ok

He loves you so much he feels dumb to even be jealous the second you do that honestly

Expect small pda like holding hands above your knees, playing with your fingers or the em of your shirt/ skirt

He’ll talk to you about it on your way back home or when you two are comfortable at yours or his place

He knows it’s normal to feel like this sometimes but it’s normal to reach for comfort right ? he’s not shy to ask

Nothings best than you playing with his hair, laying on your chest or thighs

Ryusei Shidou

He’s unhinged he scares me

I think he’s the most jealous among them

You’re his, that’s it so, he may seem lay back (and weird) but he’s cautious with every person coming near you

I hc him with abandon issues as well (give us his back story please and make it worth it compare to some character) so he’s always scared of you leaving

It’s still more in a possessive than an insecure way, he just can’t take it if he considered that someone is too close to you

He gets touchy oh my, he’s all over you, can’t keep his hands to himself just to let them know that you’re taken

He’ll talk to them straight in the eyes while his hand run up and down your thighs, he’s not ashamed of anything

You have to put a stop to it but always expected something more while coming home

Yo Hiori

He’s cute and I don’t think people take him seriously enough

You’re amazing and beautiful and fun to talk to, people already asked you why him

He kinda has war flashback ngl

Obviously he also think that he’s not enough and probably get jealous/sad quickly if someone get close to you and is really friendly

He’s scared to take things into hand I think, so he’ll just ask for you two to leave

He won’t tell you how he feels, he’s sure it’s not important enough to bring it up but you always ask him anyway

You’re so sorry that it happens at all honestly, you never want him to feel like this

He never ask for it but you’re clingy and want to do nothing with him, spending some quality time together, watching him play game while you stay on your phone or even sitting in his laps

It always make him feel better and remind him that you won’t leave him so soon

I hope you liked it ♡

[t-tomuras]

♔ ─── • 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Tenko Shimura x F!reader

Warnings: College / quirkless AU, Tomura is Tenko, mention of breeding, creampie, gentle bullying, orgasm denial, oral ( f receiving ), marking, biting, edging

Wordcount: 7k

Notes: A rework of one of my first ever fics. I.. got carried away. Thank you to beloved kitty cat for reading my insanity

You saw him often in the university’s library, tapping away at whatever handheld he felt like playing on that day while slouched in a beanbag chair, taking advantage of the usual silence in a much less productive way; depending on who you asked that is, certainly not Tenko himself. Sporting his usual ratty hoodie with fraying cuffs and the drawstrings unevenly tugged around him with the hood of it drawn over stylishly unstyled mop of ivory. 

You often wonder what holds his attention so steadfastly, what captivates him for hours, not that you watch him the entire time! You utilize the high speed internet for your class work and research assignments, it’s not your fault that the time you both spend in the common area overlaps so often. Tenko likely needs the wifi too, it only worsens your curiosity. 

You’d like to approach him, you would. Be like anyone else that meanders around him or approaches him without qualm or hesitation. Undeterred by the resting scowl the man wears regardless of what he’s doing, paired with his indifferent affect, painted Tenko as a silent loner.  

He was intimidating to you, simply put. 

It didn’t help that the few people he talked to on a semi-regular basis always seemed to agitate him, or at the very least, he was just indifferent to their presence while he was occupied. 

Can't really say you blame him either though, you were acquainted with one of the pair that stands with him now. 

Well, ‘acquainted’ didn’t seem like the best word to use for the man with dyed onyx locks and more piercings than college credits, Touya Todoroki, better known by the nickname ‘Dabi’. He was from your psych class, hardly spoke and really could hardly ever be bothered to show up to lectures either. He’s a notorious flirt though, your typical ‘bring him home on the holidays to piss off your father’ aesthetic. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a substantial interaction with him outside of Touya stealing (not borrowing as he calls it) your good and expensive pens or rolling your eyes.

And it seems like a common reaction to him in general as you watch Tenko sneering at him while Touya invaded his space, again, today while another… friend, stands idly nearby on his phone as he leans against the desk nearest to the pair.

That one seems much more approachable, relaxed and casual demeanor giving him a more inviting aura. Conventionally attractive with his sandy blond hair artfully disheveled and well cared for facial hair if you didn’t include his unruly brows; he wasn’t quite as tall as the pair before him but had a stockier build to him. He spots your discrete gawking while Touya fights with Tenko over the handheld, grin tugging at full lips as he glances between you and the quarreling duo before he saunters over. 

Too late for you to pretend your attention wasn't held by their hissed whispers and quieted antics or for you to quickly gather your scattered belongings and hightail it from the area, so you opt to straighten your spine and fight the heat stinging your nape. Clearing your throat awkwardly as you close your neglected laptop and the barren research paper left open on the screen.

“Name’s Keigo, Keigo Takami,” he introduces himself first, bending at the waist to lean against the desk you’d commandeered as a workstation for the time being, “something caught your eye, sweets?”  

The way he flashes another grin in a bid to appear just a bit more charming as he rests his chin in his hand annoys you. Keigo is charismatic, you can admit, but you don’t care for it, especially not after being caught staring, so you’re honest with your response, “who’s that guy you were talking to?” 

You know who Tenko is, but he doesn’t need to know the full extent of your interest in him, just that you’re interested in general if not to make it blatantly clear your interest isn't in him specifically. Turning your attention back to your studies as you lift the screen of your laptop again and place your fingers over the keys so you don’t have to watch Keigo visibly deflate at your flippant tone.

He’s quick to recover though, leaning back up to partially rest against the edge of your table like he was across the room, folding his arms over his broad chest as he watches Touya palming Tenko’s face and holding the handheld higher in the air childishly. Keigo’s shoulders sagging as he tilts his head, rolling his eyes as he turns to you, “y’mean Dabs? He’s—“ 

“No,” you state plainly despite how your ears burn a bit now, cheeks feeling warm as you shake your head and turn to look at Keigo’s friends, “not him. The other guy, the one in the hoodie with white hair.” 

Keigo stalls for a moment, blinks almost comically as he dramatically swivels his head between you and the men across the way, “Shimura? You’re asking about.. Tenko?” 

Your brows furrow at his tone, none too pleased with how incredulous he sounds. Almost disbelieving, as if it was an unfathomable concept, and he snorts a bit before he adds, “are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You question rhetorically, tone more than a little clipped, brow cocked in challenge. Now that you think about it, were these two even actually Tenko’s friends? The longer you interact with the blond and watch the other you’d think them more bullies than anything. “Yes, Tenko. Is there a problem with that?”

He’s confused to say the least, but he’s willing to throw Tenko a bone. Raising his hands defensively with a sheepish grin and a placating, “nothing nothing at all. Everyone always asks about Dabi, is all.”

“Dunno why,” rolling your eyes as you completely shut your laptop now, fully understanding you’re not likely to get any work completed right now. Turning to Keigo with a deadpan expression, shifting your body completely so your legs are no longer positioned beneath the desk so you can stand to leave, “Tenko seems like much better company.” You’re shoving your small notepad and pens into your bookbag followed by your laptop as you add, “much better than the company he doesn’t presently seem to want to keep.”

“Whoa whoa, wait a minute, you’ve got it all wrong.” Keigo sighs when you scoff, sliding from the tabletop to stand, holding out his hand for you to take (which you don’t) when you begin to push from your seat before letting it fall to his side once more when you’re on your feet. He’s a little taken aback by this entire exchange, Keigo’s never had an issue with talking to women before but pauses briefly to run his fingers through his sandy blond hair in a calming reflex. Taking a breath before he starts again, shoulders squared as if he was resetting himself, “seems like we got off on the wrong foot sweetheart.” 

You sneer to yourself at the pet name, pushing your chair back in with a finality before Keigo sidesteps into your path to keep you from leaving, though he does still give space so it doesn’t seem threatening. Arms held up again in yet another bid to be disarming, “that’s my bad. Let’s start over.”

He takes a step closer, moving to stand at your side with his arm gestured out as if to guide your path. Amber hues flitting from your unamused scowl to his friends then back again. Jerking his head into the direction of the two whose quiet quarrel has come to a silent stalemate, “C’mon how about I introduce you then,” chuckling to himself as he straightens his spine and shoves his hands into his pockets when your brow quirks with a cute skeptical pout. 

“All in good faith, promise,” signing it with his index drawing an ‘x’ over his heart paired with an admittedly charming wink. 

It makes you smile, causing Keigo to mirror the expression albeit with a much broader and toothy grin before you sigh your agreement. Following quietly behind him when you ask, “how do you know him anyway?”

Keigo keeps his stride short, staying in step with you for the most part while he taps at the screen of his phone that he fished from the deep pockets of his baggy pants, humming first to acknowledge he heard you, though you’re sure he wasn’t fully listening. Surprised when he actually answers your question after finishing his text or whatever it was that he was doing,  “Dabi and I go way back, him and Tenko are dorm mates though. We’ve all known each other since sophomore year, play games together every now’n’again since Tenko mostly likes to stay to himself.” 

You hum in turn, taking in the miniscule amount of information provided and filing it away even though it’s the absolute bare minimum that the blond can provide. Keigo thinks it’s kind of cute too, the interest you’ve taken in Tenko. Genuinely, nobody had ever asked Keigo about Tenko when Touya stood in the same area, not that Tenko was unattractive in the slightest. There was just something about the box dyed bad boy that everyone (man and woman alike, Touya wasn’t finicky) found more alluring than the reclusive man by comparison. It makes him chuckle softly to himself, slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips before you stand before both of the aforementioned men. 

Tenko oblivious to you or overtly disinterested as he focuses wholly on the device in his hands now that his peace is uninterrupted compared to the obvious interest Touya takes in your presence. Standing and leaning against the pillar the beanbag Tenko resides in is leaned against, crossing his arms over his chest as Keigo takes the liberty of introducing you.

“I met a little songbird guys,” closing the distance between himself and Touya before taking a firm hold of Touya’s elbow, “too bad Dabs and I gotta get to our Gender Studies class,” 

Both you and Touya look equally confused before your heart accelerates, thumping against your ribcage the moment Keigo actually begins to leave with Touya, tugging him along with no other explanation or excuse. You likely shouldn’t be but you’re reeling, floundering for Keigo but he’s already ushering his friend away; ultimately throwing you to the wolves despite doing exactly as he said he would, introduce you. 

If you expected him to be a wingman, well, that’s really your own fault, isn’t it?

The door closing upon their exit feels like it echoes, it makes you cringe as you chew at the inside of your cheek nervously. Tenko, however, pays the entire ordeal no mind, already slouching further into his plush seating with his handheld without even so much as an acknowledgement of your presence now that his headache of a roommate was gone. 

A moment passes, a beat of silence before you swivel semi-awkwardly on the balls of your feet. Rocking slightly with hands clasped behind your back before you stop and stand straight again, patting your bookbag lightly while chewing on the inside of your cheek. Going over what you could say now because it was becoming increasingly obvious that Tenko had no intention of speaking at all, only sparing you cursory glances while his fingers rhythmically presses the buttons of what you can see now is a custom skinned steam deck.

Agonizing internally to find something, anything, to say before lamely sighing out a trailing, “so..” 

“So,” he doesn’t even look up from his game, tone even and bored but that does little to deter the desire for conversation.

“My name’s—“ 

“I know who you are. Touya doesn’t shut up about the girl in his psych class that he wants to plow,” you don’t like the indifferent glare he fixes you with. It makes your skin heat, the comment taking you off guard as well, leaving your lips parted without a sound leaving them. Words caught in your throat purely by the shock of how casually Tenko divulges that information to you. 

Touya wanting to fuck anything with legs was no surprise to you, but for him to openly discuss the desire you sleep with you with his roommate? Someone that knows nothing about you? Utterly mortifying, you’re so embarrassed that you stand before him like a deer in headlights and yet it only continues to get worse as Tenko takes your silence for a different sort of realization, especially whenever you glance to the library’s exit. Exhaling a mirthless chuckle, as if this exchange was an annoyance to him now, “you missed your chance though, Keigo likes to cockblock, they’re not even close to being late.” 

“Huh?” He throws you again, recovering enough to express your confusion, “Wait no, actually what?” Missed your chance? Did he think you were simply standing here because you’d wanted to talk to Touya but had a stroke of intentional misfortune?

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you, snorting a bit at the ridiculous notion before it births an incredulous laugh that bleeds into a fit of giggling. Genuinely instead of nervously, long enough you need a moment to recover and for Tenko to pause his game with a curious look, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, it’s really not funny I swear.” And it isn’t funny to you, honestly, but at least the air doesn’t feel so stiflingly awkward anymore. Your giggling subsides relatively quickly, tapering off into a few breathless sounds as you wipe away stray tears that gathered in your lash line.

“I really don’t understand the big deal about him,” you start after you’ve caught your breath, swiping your thumb a second time at the other corner of your eye but you still wear the smile that accompanied your laughter, “but I have absolutely no interest in Touya.” 

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, “Or Keigo for that matter. I actually really wanted,” trailing slightly but steeling yourself enough to continue, gripping at the cross-shoulder strap of your bookbag, “to talk.. to you?” 

You’re only met with silence and unwavering eye contact that makes you squirm under his gaze. Pulling at your fingers and adjusting the strap of your bag nervously while you wait for heaven fucking knows what and if you weren’t in a library you would’ve screamed by now. 

Then, finally, he smirks, “you’re pretty cute.” 

The squeak that leaves your lips does little to salvage what little of your dignity you feel is intact and your meek, awkward little, ‘thank you’ that only makes him laugh in response just serves to worsen your shame. Ready to bolt and crawl into the safety of your fluffy comforter while you plan how to switch colleges mid-semester.

He scoots over in the tufted, unconventional chair, the millions of beads shifting and groaning beneath his weight earning your attention and pulling you from your internal spiral. Nodding his head to the space he created for you to sit down and whenever you cock your head in confusion Tenko simply rolls his eyes as if your next move should be obvious. When he taps the space he created for you and you still don't grasp the hint he emits a groan as he leans forward to take your hand, tugging you down to sit with him. 

Taken by surprise to say the least but it’s a much more pleasant experience than everything else that’s transpired thus far so settling with him is easily done. Tenko keeps his arm propped up, slinging it over your shoulders to tuck you into him when you finally heed the silent command. He, of course, turns his game back on while you shyly snuggle, tucking your head beneath his as you tentatively rest your head against his shoulder.

Suddenly overly conscious of your breathing and wondering if maybe you’re resting against him too much while trying not to shift and writhe too often before he hums a low, “relax, you’re moving too much.” No bite in his tone and, weirdly enough, it soothes you. Forces you to just let your body grow comfortable against his, but the arm that’s securely looped around you makes it difficult to see his screen.

You peek but he moves so he can see the game past your head. “what’re you playin?” 

“Dead Space,” tilting the device enough so that you both can see the screen without obstruction. Just in time for some gangly, disfigured creature to lunge at his character. Making you jolt at the sudden shock before Tenko demonstrates an important mechanic to the game. Turning the volume up so you can easily hear the sickening squelch accompanying the action of dismembering the enemy, chuckling lowly when you gag at the noise and turn to stare at his unbothered profile, “s’not for everyone.” 

“It’s not so bad, just don’t like the sound design,” in the way that it was incredibly well done enough it elicited physical reactions from you. Settling back into the crook of his throat as you watch him progress in the story. 

Sitting in silence for a moment, long enough for the question to burn on your tongue, comfortable enough now that you don’t register that it could reveal just how often you took notice of him. 

 “Why do you always play in here?” Thankfully, Tenko doesn’t notice. He doesn’t even look away from his screen as he completes a simple puzzle.

“Because Touya is annoying, gets me killed on purpose.” 

“Well,” you lift your head enough so you can tilt into his view, “Touyas in class right now, isn’t he?” 

He pauses the game again, staring at you for a moment before shoving the handheld into the front pocket of his oversized hoodie and rising to his feet; tugging you up with him without uttering a word. Tenko keeps hold of your wrist while leading you out of the library, pausing just long enough when you fumble to straighten your falling bag, “where are we going?” 

“My dorm, you can watch me play on the big screen with the volume up,” he replies so easily and you’re practically giddy at the prospect of being alone with him. 

And, somewhere along the trek from the library to his dorm, his broad palm slips from your wrist into your own to hold you a little more comfortably.  

His dorm is relatively tidy, save for a discarded hoodie or two lying around with a too full trash can beneath the desk that acts like a tv stand but you’ve heard of the horror shows most boys dorms are so you can’t complain. Even Touya’s side of the room was impeccable, bed made neatly compared to the tousled comforter and haphazardly strewn singular pillow on Tenko’s own mattress.

Heart racing for a moment whenever Tenko points for you to sit while he sets up his steam deck to connect to his tv. Taking a seat awkwardly on the edge of his bed, leaning back enough to feign comfortable ease whenever he makes his way to you. Moving his hand in a shooing motion as he climbs in next to you before opting to help arrange your bodies on the plush pillow top so he could start to play. 

Fixing you to situate comfortably in his lap, his chin resting atop your crown with his arms looped around you to grasp his controller; stiff in his hold for only a short while until you relax and lean back against him. Sighing contentedly unknowingly for the last time as Tenko presses start to resume his campaign. You discover quickly that you really don’t like this game much, especially not now with the volume much louder and the picture enlarged to see the gore in vivid detail compared to the smaller screen of his handheld in a public space. Nevermind all the well timed jumpscares and sinister score making you jolt but the chuckle that rumbles in his chest each time is almost worth the torment.

“Scardey-cat,” he teases and you huff, turning your head up and sticking your tongue out at him. 

“M’ not,” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as you sink further into his lap and you pout cutely when you hear his snort in response. Humming a dry, “sure you’re not, that’s why you’re jumping.”

“It’s the truth,” scoffing indignantly, dramatically placing your hand over your chest as if he’s insulted you, “I’m just jerking from trying not to sleep is all!” Cheekily with a higher pitch to your tone and Tenko rolls his eyes with a soft smirk at the corner of his scarred lip before you turn upwards once again. 

“This game is boring Tenko, the jump scares are cheap,” only for you to eat those words a second later when he’s attacked and he laughs at you when you’re startled enough to turn into his chest to hide from the scene reflexively. 

Mocking you by purring out a hushed, “what’s wrong? I thought it was boring?”

“Don’t be mean,” comes your whine, tugging halfheartedly at the fabric of his hoodie before slouching into his chest and crossing your arms. Flustered by the sound of his voice and the soft laughter that reverberates in his chest and with the closeness you can feel it within your own. Clearing your throat as you shift in his hold. Adjusting to sit up, pulling your knees closer to your chest until you’re curled into a tight ball in Tenko’s lap before fiddling with your phone. Growing bored of the device quickly though thanks to all of your social feeds being dead, sighing audibly as you flippantly toss the device onto his mattress to be lost and forgotten before long, the motion pulling some of Tenko’s attention in the quiet treks from objective to objective.

Taking into account this may actually be a bit boring for you, that maybe you don’t want to be scared while watching a game that may not interest you as you spend time with him but the way you hide away and seek solace in Tenko is cute. 

Resigning himself to get to his next save point and log off for the day, possibly offer a trip off campus to a bite to eat, telling you as much with a simple, “are you hungry? I’m about to get off.”

Brightening at the notion of a little impromptu venture together for food, giddy with how comfortable interacting with him feels. Nodding at his question as you sit up to pay attention to the screen again just as a cutscene begins to play but of course there's a scare in it and your ass rubs against his crotch when you flinch. He tries not to get hard, especially whenever he was preparing to quit his game, all Tenko needed to do was finish this quick time event and then he’d be able to save his progress.

Gritting his teeth a bit and flaring his nostrils in agitation at the game as well as to draw in steadying breaths because he does not want to get hard from just a little bit of friction and you think him a creep. 

But it really feels like you know what you’re doing to him the more that you subtly writhe, each wiggle of your hips and brush of your round ass against his crotch alone is really making it difficult to maintain his composure. Your fidgeting eventually makes him miss a key input within the sequence, killing him in the process and starting him over at the beginning of the cinematic.

Controller vibrating violently in his hands from his death and the beginning of the sequence once again. Palms sweating enough he has to wipe them on his casual joggers and you feel a little bad for getting him killed. Frowning when you glance at him from the corner of your eye and see furrowed brows paired with a scowl marring his usually impassive features. 

You think he’s mad at you for getting him killed, rolling your plush bottom lip between your teeth as you shrink into yourself as much as you can. Shimmying lower and unknowingly contributing further for his mounting frustration but in the best of ways that Tenko isn’t used to. Exercising extreme concentration in the hopes of completing this last task without you feeling his swelling cock, already planning on tucking the erection into his waistband until it went away after he’d powered everything down.

But the willpower is waning, nearly eroded to nothing with your soft, “m’ sorry Ten.”

He doesn’t gratify you with a response, just a low hum from the back of his throat before continuing in silence, so focused on willing the blood away from his cock that he misses the last input of the sequence, controller vibrating violently in his palms from damage taken. You tilt up to look at him, pitiful expression on pretty features but Tenko keeps his eyes trained forward. It’s over if he looks at you, he’s sure of it. 

What’s it going to look like to you if he pins you to the mattress now? Flips up your skirt to run his fingers teasingly along your clothed slit until the fabric is dampened? Would you want him to? Would you beg for him? 

Lost in his daydream of degeneracy, Tenko forgets he’s holding you for real and maybe he’ll blame it on that for the way he holds you tightly when it feels like you’re getting up to leave as he gruffs out a gravely “stay put.”

You make a noise, a small one in the back of your throat something akin to a squeak as your fingers wrap around his forearm. Confusion evident and the shift in the atmosphere between you is palpable but you’re unaware of its nature, lips parting to breathe his name when his own voice cuts you off.

“Just stay there,” a command through grit teeth accompanied by a tightened hold.

“Are you okay? I didn't mean to mess you up.” 

Tenko huffs at that, a breathy chuckle as his head hangs, fringe of ivory hanging in his view. You couldn’t possibly still think this was about his now forgotten video game that continues to loop the same cinematic each time he dies, could you? Surely nobody could be this oblivious and he voices as much, “you’re messing with me right? Pretending to be this cute and innocent?” 

You don’t respond, features pinched in confusion, shifting in his hold to try and see his face when you finally feel it. Flinching slightly but you make no attempt to lift away from Tenko, heat stinging rising up your throat and warming your cheeks up to your ears. Was it from your squirming? Just because? Your mouth opens and closes but you're at a loss for words, only managing a dumb, “I wasn't” before gasping at the first vibration against your crotch. 

Accidental at first, purely coincidence with where his controller came to rest in the weighted exchange, charged now as passive features morphing into a darkened expression. A devious smile spreading slowly when you squirm at the sensation, but Tenko’s observant. 

Leaning forward until his lips are against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spin as he teasingly asks, “Does that feel good?” as he pulls your back to rest flush to his chest. Pressing his controller to your mound with a little more pressure than the first time., earning a gasp at the sensation, looking up at him almost pleadingly (for what you aren’t sure) before it vibrates again. 

Tenko’s eyes widening with interest at the sound of your sharp inhale, the way your body tenses against his but you don’t recoil from the contact before he takes on a hooded gaze. Calmly pushing the remote under your skirt as his other hand moves to wrap around your throat, cupping tenderly before craning it to the side to press featherlight kisses along the exposed flesh. Your gasping soon evolves into more unabashedly vocal mewling, your body writhing as the vibrations frequency intensifies the more damage he takes. Tenko adding to the increasingly overwhelming contact by sucking marks into and nipping at your skin, his forearm tensing to push you into the slow rut of his hips. Reflexively grinding back against  Tenko’s stiff length, trying to match the rhythm of his hips only to buck out of sync from the pleasuring shock that shoot up your spine. Toes already curling with the build of sweet release.

“T-Tenko,” you barely manage before he swallows your voice, slightly chapped lips sealing over your plush ones. Whimpering pathetically at the trace of his tongue along the seam before you grant him entrance, tasting one another with languid swipes. Muttering an even softer, “Tenko please.” 

The pitch makes him groan, lids fluttering open but to only half mast as he pulls from the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you. “Please, what?” But he doesn’t wait for an answer, pressing the swell of the controller firmly against your clit when it begins to vibrate violently once more. You almost want to scream, even if you did Tenko would be sure to greedily devour the gratifying sound as well. You grasp at his hoodie, the pillow next to you, reaching behind you to thread your fingers into the silky strands of his hair while the other holds Tenko’s wrist in a vice grip as you arch away from his chest. Chest heaving with labored breaths, the coil in your lower belly winding so tightly you can feel yourself on the cusp of your climax it’s almost maddening. 

“Like that, please just like that,” pleading for more, chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your core, bucking into his hand and the controller he holds. The room feels suffocating the closer you get, the longer you teeter on the edge, only focusing on the vibrations to your clit and the slow steady rut of his hips behind you. The heavy length you feel against the swell of your ass, “I’m so close, fuck.”

You whimper his name when he moves his hand from your throat to flip up your skirt completely now, gripping at thick thighs as he silently spreads you open. Forcing your feet to plant on the mattress on the outer sides of Tenko’s knees, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck as he wastes little time dipping past the seam of your panties . Running his fingers through your wetness before teasing at your entrance, plunging into your embarrassingly soaked cunt with ease and finding a delicious pace with even less effort. Guiding you to rut up in tandem, however jerkily they may be, with every pump, you’ll be careening over the edge in no time, you can feel it. Almost taste it on the tip of your tongue, eyes rolling from pleasure as you breathily babble his name like a muddled mantra but he removes himself from you just as you’re ready to climax. The whine that escapes is pitiful, laden with disappointment as you collapse back against his chest and frustration and a tinge of embarrassment pinching the apples of your cheeks when you’re met with a mocking chuckle. 

“S’pretty cute when you’re frustrated like that you know. Upset you didn’t get to cum baby?” His voice is taunting and it makes you feel pathetic when you nod with moist lashes clumped with unshed, frustrated tears and the kiss he presses to your temple does little to quell the lump the threatens to lodge in your throat, “you’re right though, that game is boring. I like this one better.” 

Your confusion is evident, brows scrunched up cutely as you tilt and angle to give Tenko more access as he trails chaste kisses from your temple to your cheek and along your jawline, “what game?” 

He’s silent as he affords you with tender affections, lips adoring your throat in a way that makes the tension bleed from your shoulders. Though he sends a shiver down your spine when he places one last kiss to the space behind your ear when he whispers his clarification. “The ‘how many times can I deny your orgasm before you start crying’ game.”

Tenko is mean alright, you had it pegged earlier, even in jest, so he fully intends to show you no matter how much you whine. You’re going to be Tenko’s favorite toy right now. A much more interesting sort of entertainment, handling you with a controlled hunger as he removes you from his lap, pulls your modest little skirt and panties away, tugs your asymmetrical sweater over your head and unclasps your bra for you to shrug away. Long fingers wrapping around your forearms just in case you try to hide the view from him as your breasts spill free, “So pretty.” 

He moves to lay down next, guiding your body and arranging you until your cunt is hovering over his face, hot breath puffing against your puffy lips. His hands keep a firm grip on your hips  when you tense after you’re settled to straddle his face. Knees sinking into the downy pillow beneath his head, given a modicum of leeway to sit backwards just enough to see Tenko’s face between your thighs and it does little to calm your nerves as a rush of arousal pools at your cunt at the sight. 

 “Ten I dunno,” voice trailing off without finishing the sentence, not wanting to admit you’ve never sat on anyone’s face before. He’s less than undeterred, however, doesn’t allow you enough time to remove yourself from him due to waning self-confidence before he’s leaning up and pressing a kiss to your puffy clit before lapping broad stripes along your drooling slit causing your fingers to shoot into his hair. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit while he laps at your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine and throughout every fiber of your being. The pleasure so encompassing you don’t notice you’re grinding against him until he groans against your core, reaching up to roll a pebbled nipple between his fingers. Unbuttoning his pants and freeing himself from increasingly tightening constraints, gripping his neglected cock and stroking himself while he slurps salaciously at your sticky heat. 

Building you up quickly until your thighs tremble, completely at his mercy (or lack thereof) as pleas tumble from your lips in hushed tones. Each plead punctuated by an uneven roll of your hips against his tongue, stuttering in motion when he sucks cruelly at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so close you can almost taste it only for it to be ripped away again when his large hand holds you in place, “no fuck please Tenko! Please let me cum! I need it, baby please.” 

He hears you, loud and clear despite how tightly your thighs spasm around his ears to muffle the outside world. Growling to himself about having to end his enjoying meal so quickly but you could cum on his face another time and as many times as you wanted but not now. Not yet, patting your thigh for your attention, “get up, you’re gonna’ cream on this cock or not at all.” 

And you’re all too eager to comply, scrambling off of him and to the side, allowing Tenko to pull himself up and lean against his headboard. Swinging your leg over his hips before he’s even fully settled but he doesn’t mind. Chuckling before your arms loop around his shoulders, melding your lips with his as you straddle him. 

You look so pretty like this, desperate for his cock and it shows when you part from the searing kiss with unshed tears clumping your lashes and glassy eyes from being edged for the last hour. 

“I’ve got you,” purred with that alluring gravel to his voice as Tenko grasps his length between you both, running the leaky tip through your soaked slit, coating himself in your slick before positioning himself at your entrance. His free hand firmly holding your hip, applying pressure to sink you down on his length as if you needed the encouragement at all. 

Crimson hues flitting between the way your lips fall open in a silent moan as your head lolls backwards and the way each inch disappears into your greedy cunt. He’s groaning already at the way you squeeze him, walls fluttering around his cock with pleasure at the sudden stretch, trembling slightly when he’s finally sunk you to the base. Wet heat slicking down the curly thatch to the skin of his pelvis when your hips twitch into his. 

“Shit,” Tenko groans out, burying his face against your throat, tongue swiping over the hickies he’d decorated your flesh with earlier while his free hand presses you impossibly closer by the small of your back, “you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight, gonna make me cum already at this rate.” 

You’re whining at the praise, his other hand at your hip helping you bounce on him at the pace you need. It’s so hot in his room now, the smell of sex filling your nostrils and beads of sweat slicking baby hairs to the skin of your face and nape of your neck. Nails raking along his shoulder blades as you chase the high you’d so callously been denied but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t heighten the experience now.  

“Gonna cum baby? Go ahead, you can cum, I won’t stop you. Promise, promise I won’t stop you this time,” he sounds breathless himself, controlled pace steadily forgon in favor of pure instinct. Moving his head from your shoulder to loll against the headboard, a smile spreading on his features when you seize the opportunity to litter the alabaster skin of his throat in dark marks. ““m’close too, I’m gonna cum right there with you. You want that baby, want me to paint those pretty walls white?” 

Tenko already knows the answer is a resounding yes, even before you nod emphatically. Nipping hungrily at his pronounced Adam’s apple when a pointed thrust into that spongy spot within you rips a throaty moan from you. 

Every reaction you reward Tenko with is sinfully sweet, addicting in the worst of ways. You’ll be the death of him in more than just his forgotten game that somehow paused with the lost remote. 

Tenko needs more from you now, everything you could possibly give and within another whispered ‘please Ten, so close’ he knows he���ll have it. Knows that he’ll do the same. 

He’s panting, frenzied, more than beside himself while lost in the throngs of pleasure. Carried away now as one hand tenderly cups the juncture of your throat and his lips brush contrastingly tender kisses to the space below your ear. Gripping your hip as he pins you to the mattress in one swift motion, watching himself disappear into your divine heat once more before you pull him down to you. Clawing at his shoulder blades like the momentary distance was an utter betrayal and he hums against your lips, parting again but not nearly as far. 

Just enough to look you in the eye, the tips of your noses almost brushing and warm breath fanning over flushed cheeks when he asks, “want me to breed you? Want me to fill you full until it sticks?” 

Wholly aware of how deranged that comment is considering he’d just met you but he doesn’t care and by the way you keen so prettily you don’t seem to hate the idea either.

Far from.

Moaning out in pitched whines near bordering screams, silencing yourself sinking your teeth into the soft flesh and taut muscles of his trapezius. You can feel his release nearing, feel him twitching within your walls but he’s being generous; shoving his hand where your bodies meet and pressing his thumb to your swollen bud so at the very least you can experience sweet rapture first. 

And you do, quickly. 

It only takes a few hasty yet methodical circles before you finally, finally, finally climax, gasping for air and convulsing against him in a shuddering orgasm with his name on your tongue. 

The intensity of your own high hurdles Tenko into his own demise, spilling his release into you seconds after yours racks through you and milking each jerking thrust he gives. It takes a moment before you both regain your bearings, labored breathing slowing into even drags with his softening cock still buried inside your warmth. 

Lamenting the lost feeling of complete fullness when Tenko untangles himself from you to rise from bed. Sitting up after him, delightful daze doused by a metaphorical bucket of frigid water as you assume the worst when Tenko reaches for a clean rag from his nightstand to clean himself up. 

Suddenly a little self-conscious as you lift your arm to cover your exposed breasts. Clenching your thighs when you kick them over the side of his bed at the warmth that seeps from your abused cunt. Already searching for your clothes thinking you’ll be told to leave soon.

Tenko frowns when you reach for your discarded garments, gently taking your hand as your fingers grasp at your abandoned sweater. Raising your hand while stroking himself erect once more, “we’ve still got time,” bending at the waist to be within your field of view before pulling you to stand with him. Tentative smile spreading on your lips as Tenko steps backwards and guides you to follow until he’s sat on the edge of Touya’s bed, pulling you to straddle him.

“I like to play games to completion,” the line is corny admittedly and it makes you giggle but that’s subconsciously what Tenko wanted. For you to relax once more because he truly has every intention of still being buried to the hilt in you when Dabi came back from class.

[whiskersz]

Hey so I just saw you had request opened for Adam so could you please do headcannons with Adam x reader where the reader is like very nervous at first and is quiet but after a bit when they open up is supper out going and talks a lot? Have an amazing day/night!

Hello there! Happy to write some Adam headcanons for you, dear reader! Hope you like these and have a wonderful day/night yourself :3 I assumed these were meant to be romantic but they can be read either way.

Adam x Quiet -> Outgoing! Reader HCs

Adam isn’t really sure what to think of you at first.

He never knows what to make of quiet people; is there a storm brewing in their little brain, or are they uninteresting and as such undeserving of his attention? Lute is the first for example, and he quite likes her, so he decides to give you a chance.

What really amuses him is your nervousness around him at first; he’ll tease you by asking things such as “What, cat got your tongue?” and make fun of you when you stumble on your own words, his booming laugh catching the attention on anyone nearby.

Lord knows why you stick around, but you do, and day after day you two somehow grow closer; you get used to his tacky jokes about your personality and little by little you learn to either ignore him and move on or retort with the first thing that comes to mind, shushing him. He’ll either blow you a very immature raspberry or flip the bird at you whenever this happens.

Once you open up a bit and become way more talkative though, unfortunately for you, he finds a whole new reason to be rude to you;

“Got your tongue back I see. Great, now I’ve got a pest by my side.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re going to give me a headache!”

“Do you ever shut up?”

As you can probably tell having any kind of relationship with Adam is not the easiest thing in the world – or well, in Heaven, in this case.

It’s not rare for you to get a bit offended by what he says, but you’ve figured out a way to worm your way into his heart and get him to listen to you: acts of service.

Adam is a bit lazy when it comes to doing things that aren’t fun for him, so the best way to get him to calm down a bit is to take the weight off his shoulders and do whatever needs to be done in his stead.

Of course, we’re talking about everyday acts, such as doing the groceries or cleaning. He’s going to be overjoyed if you get him something he likes while you’re out too; every time you come back home from grocery shopping with ribs to cook, he’s oh-so going to listen to your rants about how long the line at the cash register was or whatever you have to talk about this time.

He’s also a big napper, and it’s surprising even to him how much it helps him fall asleep when you talk about literally anything as he’s trying to take a nap. These are the times where he’ll actually reply to what you’re saying too!

“...and that’s when my friend left. I couldn’t believe it, like... if she really cared she would’ve stayed, right?”

“What...is she a fucking bitch? Of course she would’ve stayed if she gave a damn.”

He answers with his eyes closed each time, but his eyebrows are still furrowed in frustration whenever you tell him about someone or something that pissed you off.

Lute probably questions you guys’ relationship, not going to lie. She can deal with Adam, but you? She has absolutely no idea how you put up with him, but as long as she gets some free time for herself she’s not going to complain.

[noroi1000]

Honored One Shot no.7 - @loreley-ha

"My Omega"

Yandere Alpha Geto x Omega reader

Omegaverse NSFW: Marking, possessive sex, pheromones

"Do you really think I don't know where my omega goes?"

You heard a voice behind you as you entered the house.

You jumped as warm fingers touched your neck, removing the collar that was covering your neck.

You knew it was Suguru. Because you will know his voice everywhere.

The feeling when he's next to you too.

Throwing his collar to the floor, he put his closed mouth and nose to the bite mark on the side of your neck.

You felt shivers when he did it.

That's what it feels like to be chastised by an alpha.

A feeling that makes you shiver.

Alphas have always been terrible to Omega. But not those who are partners. Suguru is your partner.

However, reaching the sensitive mark on the neck is like initiating sexual contact or possessiveness. Especially when Alphas do it when they're pissed off.

The alpha's possessiveness and scolding can be frequent. It all depends on the character of Alpha.

Your Alpha is possessive.

You are his and only his. His Omega. Only his.

The moment other alphas approach you is when he goes into standby mode.

When an alpha stranger approaches you, he's very careful and pulls you away so you don't get too close.

When it's a familiar alpha to you or him, it allows you a little more freedom, but not that much.

Alpha is Alpha. Just a little bit of your scent and you will become a morsel for some alpha who is nearby.

Even if you already have a partner. Alphas compete. Especially because there are less omegas.

That's why your partner is possessive. Because you're supposed to be his omega and no one else's.

He shows your place now.

Showing you to focus on whose mark is on your neck.

The marks of his teeth. And not anyone else.

He's the one who marked you as his omega. And not someone else. You are HIS omega.

You felt shivers as he exhaled from his lungs at that bite.

It's normal for the omega to be more sensitive around the alpha who is your partner. But he does it on purpose.

To show you your place with him as his Omega.

"I know my omega was seeing some alpha..." He moaned into your ear, holding you possessively in his arms.

When you looked to the side to see his face, you saw his purple eyes almost glow as he stared into yours.

You heard a soft growl coming from his throat as he looked at you.

If he had animal physical features, surely everything would show his displeasure.

Same as now.

"How are naughty omegas punished?" He asked, scanning your gentle eyes with intensity.

Omega so innocent...Alphas never can get angry when they see how their omega has such innocent eyes with them.

Just like you are looking at him now.

He is your alpha. your life partner. You can't look at him with hostility because it's written in your genes that you love your alpha. You don't oppose Alfie. You are really happy with your alpha.

And alphas have more aggression and possessiveness in their genes.

Omegas are so innocent, cute and beautiful.

And he loves his omega. That's why he wants his omega just for him.

Because he is the alpha.

And his omega is everything to him.

"Suguru...?" You giggled softly as a smile appeared on his face.

"Don't be afraid ~. Just you know... You're my Omega. And I don't wanna give you to someone else." He licked your ear, nibbling the earlobe with his tooth. "But little, cute omegas only have a place with one alpha. And you're my omega, baby."

You felt him release some of his pheromones on you.

Your body shivered as you felt hot.

"I need to mark my omega even more, right?" he purred in your ear.

You let out a shaky breath as his hot tongue slid over your bite on your skin.

And you felt more and more of his pheromones insistently attacking your senses to make you a moaning mess and begging for your alpha.

And that was for sure because Suguru's pheromones were so strong and intense.

It was affecting your body, making you a horny mess.

It was the same with him when he felt your heat. He was losing control by spraying you with waves of pheromones. And the omegas can never hold back their alpha partner.

Therefore, the heat is intense for both sides.

Especially when Omega is in heat. Because Alpha becomes aggressive and erratic just to get Omega.

That's why Suguru asked you several times to be very careful about taking supplements.

And his heat is also intense because it's unstoppable. And he closes himself off from you so he doesn't succumb to his instincts when he feels his omega.

Even though he won't hurt you, it's more aggressive sex than ever. Therefore, in order not to expose you to stress, during the most intense time of this he closed himself.

Even though you felt his heat and you were in a similar state.

And he went a little crazy because he smelled the sweet smell of your pheromones.

Same as now.

When you felt his pheromones and started to tremble, asking for his touch. He felt the same way as your body began to emit that sweet scent.

"Omegas are always so polite to their Alphas. And you're so good to me, baby ~. I should mark you again for what you did. I can't be so brutal when you're so meek. But I can't be gentle to make you understand your mistake."

He put his hands under your shirt and your body melted in his hands.

"You smell so sweet ~. My sweet omega~."

As he took off your bottom clothes, he saw your thighs getting wet.

Alpha pheromones are intense... And they immediately tell your body to be turned on for your alpha.

Just like alphas, they are crazy about the smell of omega. In the same way, omegas go crazy when their alphas release pheromones on them.

His hands also grabbed your top clothes, taking it off.

Leaving your body naked and begging to be touched.

He smelled the sweet scent of his omega's excitement, which challenged that predatory instinct in him. Instinct to HAVE his omega here and now.

His pupils dilated and his pants were so tight.

Undoing his baggy pants, he placed your hands against the wall for something to hold on to, and bent you down so he could access your hips. He spread your thighs apart, pressing the thick tip of his cock against your trembling entrance.

Your walls offered no resistance, nor did the rest of your body. And when he managed to slide in easily, he pressed his chest against your back and sank his teeth into the already existing mark on your skin.

Making you howl of pleasure as you felt his scent completely take over your mind. The pleasure you crave.

You want him.

He growled, feeling the pleasure of biting into your skin to leave a mark.

The way you shiver, barely holding on to the wall as your alpha's big dick digs into your insides.

"A-Alpha..." you moaned in a shaky voice as he kept one hand on your hip and the other next to yours on the wall.

Your trembling thighs and whole legs when you stood on tiptoe didn't bother him at all, because if you want your alpha to fuck you, you have to keep it that way. In this position.

But at some point, he's going to keep your body in a mess anyway. His Omega marking is something he wants. For your mutual pleasure, and also for you as a lesson. Because you only react that way to his pheromones.

He started mercilessly digging his hips into yours, leaving marks on your back as he positioned you the way you're supposed to be positioned so he could hit deeper with more accuracy.

So that your legs buckle under you and he can fuck your moaning, melting body in his hands as much as he thinks necessary.