#n so many fucking essays to write

[ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit]

the thing they do not tell u about applying to colleges is. how much it makes you want to die

[nicomoon69]

every time I’m forced to see this image bc I have to describe what’s wrong w it to dumb ass ppl a small part of me dies

cw: ugly ass emo whitewashed genshin man

[lokissweater]

“i would never lie to you.”

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: inumaki’s always coming home to you from missions coughing up mass amounts of blood and completely overdoing it while fighting curses with his cursed speech technique. and no matter how many times you tell him to be careful, he just doesn’t, arguing with him, giving him the cold shoulder, and completely unaware of the reason behind why he fights so hard when he’s out there— that reason being of course… because of you.

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, toge and reader have a lil argument but it’s more the aftermath, slight sexual mention but it’s literally once and nothing LOL, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not doing enough SNIFFF, angst with comfort, toge is DEVOTED to you, aged up characters, pet names, afab!reader.

word count: 2.3k

authors note: short n sweet one!! wanted to give you guys a break from my MLA format essays i always make y’all read LMFAOOO!! this one is SHO SOFT AHHHH :] i hope this keeps you guys fed in the meantime while i write the next one! i love you and i love you all ALWAYS MWAAHH <33

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toge inumaki hates it when you don’t talk to him.

as if he doesn’t do that enough already, toge absolutely despises when you both get into arguments or heated discussions and you turn a cold shoulder to him— needing space to unwind and prevent yourself from lashing out even more, to let the situation simmer down.

he understands it. believe him he does— you’re upset and angry and you need time to cool off… but toge is stubborn and needy and just doesn’t care, needing you and only you, him going absolutely crazy at the silence in your shared apartment that he was starting to hear random ringing in his ear drums.

so as he sat on the couch, eyes unblinking as they stared off into the darkness of the living room as the sun had already began to set, you upstairs locked away— he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and let his cursed speech force you to come downstairs and talk to him.

but he didn’t, though the thought was definitely tempting, as toge vowed the day that he laid eyes on you to never ever use his cursed technique on you, even if it was harmless, an oath he wanted to carry with him until his very death bed and until he was six feet under.

his ears perked up then at the quiet sounds of the upstairs room door knob twisting and clicking open, soft padded footsteps making their way down the hall and closer to where he was, feet sticking against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

at the sight of you with your hair a little disheveled, your eyes so red and puffy, and an arm wrapped around yourself as you rummaged through the fridge looking for fuck knows what and not sparing a single glance at him— toge felt like a fifty pound gutting weight was resting on his chest and crushing his heart.

you had both argued about something you always seemed to circle back to almost every week. but this time, you were sick and tired and fed up, seeing as toge was never going to try and understand the situation at hand through your worried eyes.

every time toge was out for a mission, you would spend your days anxiously throwing yourself over the couch or trying to keep yourself busy with random activities like baking or scrapbooking (which you deemed later meaningless), all within the sole purpose of trying to get your mind off of your boyfriend and the recklessness he always seemed to pull while on missions, regardless of how much you begged and pleaded with him to be more careful and aware of his health.

toge inumaki had such a powerful and lethal cursed technique that frightened and astonished you all at the same time, a conflicting feeling to have when he had to leave you in the middle of the night or during the early hours of the morning to run around and fight curses… but always coming home to you warm and loving and safe.

but not right now.

not when toge had literally come home this morning with not even two steps in the door and he was already on his knees, coughing up strings and loads of crimson blood, it pooling on the floor as he had used his cursed speech to the highest degree today and had you a crying mess thinking he was dying.

and he always did that. always. today was just the worst of them all, him without a fault coming home with excruciating pain in his bruised and clawed up throat, the cough syrup medicine he usually downed like water having absolutely no effect anymore as you scrambled around every time trying to find a solution, toge brushing off your distressed and frightened rambling as if his health wasn’t a big deal, and as if how much it affected you wasn’t a big deal either.

upon you closing the fridge, toge slowly stood from the couch and carefully walked over to you, his throat still in pieces but his mind lurching and guilty over how upset you were at him.

he slowly raised a gentle hand and placed it on your shoulder, you shaking your head somberly in response— your back to him.

“i don’t wanna talk right now toge i’m sorry…” you mumbled, rubbing over your tired sore eyes.

he squeezed your shoulder, insisting.

but you only shook your head again.

toge huffed and placed both hands on your shoulders this time, physically turning you around to face him— his eyes soft and his eyebrows pinched together in pure concern for you.

you peeked up reluctantly, but the sight of his face and the events from earlier flashing through your mind only made your bottom lip wobble and the bottom of your palms shoot up to dig into your eyes, more stinging tears flooding in and slipping through the corners of your closed lids.

his heart fucking broke.

“why don’t you care toge?” you hiccuped. “i worry myself sick every time you leave for a mission and— and that’s fine because it’s what you do but you never take care of yourself!”

he gently pried your shaking hands away from your eyes and wiped your tears softly with his thumbs, caressing your cheeks after— wishing so badly, more than anything in this fucking world, to just be able to speak to you like a normal human being instead of resorting to words scrambled on a piece of paper or text messages on a screen.

he gently placed a little timid peck to your nose before releasing your face and fumbling around in his pockets for his phone, tapping it awake once he retrieved it and opening his notes app to write out a sentence.

he flipped and faced the screen towards you, the brightness making you squint a bit.

“i do care i swear. i just always forget when i’m in the middle of it and i’m sorry baby.”

“so you keep forgetting after what feels like the fifteenth time i’ve told you?” you wiped more tears from your cheeks. “how— how do you think it makes me feel when you come home and you’re coughing up blood all over your clothes and the furniture huh? all over me?”

he sighed softly through his nose and went to type again, but you continued.

“i get scared toge that one day you’ll push yourself way too far and then you just won’t come home. you scare me when you cough up so much blood like that!—”

toge tugged you in then with his unoccupied hand and wrapped his arms around you, pushing your head in and stuffing your face against his chest— the scent of his freshly washed t-shirt filling your nose as you cried softly.

fuck he felt like such a douche.

he typed for a moment behind your head, a pit in his stomach that only grew in size the longer he heard your little sniffles.

toge pulled back a bit, his arms still keeping you in place but just enough so that he could lower his phone and show you his message.

“please please don’t cry. i’m really sorry okay i really am and honest to god this won’t happen again.”

you nodded meekly and he flipped his phone back, quickly typing again and showing you once he finished.

“i feel like you think i don’t care but that’s not true at all. part of the reason why i try so hard when i work is because the more curses i fuck up the safer you’ll be when you’re out there without me.”

you laughed a bit at his wording, and he beamed at that, typing.

“i love you pretty girl. and im sorry i always get blood everywhere.”

“oh i don’t care about the mess baby, i care about youu,” you whined lightly and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him in tight.

“and i love you too, a lot… like an embarrassing amount that strips away my dignity.”

he chuckled boyishly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his body stuttering slightly as a single thought grazed his mind— the same thought that’s been in the crevices of his brain since he asked you to be his.

you felt his tension and pulled back.

“what?”

toge bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you, his weight shifting as he contemplated telling you something he didn’t want to burden or upset you with, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing over your chubby cheek.

you quirked an eyebrow. “what? are you cheating on me?”

he burst out laughing and shook his head, kissing your forehead before dropping his hand from your cheek and pulling out his phone again.

he typed for a minute then showed you.

“me not being able to speak to you like a normal boyfriend should or respond to you whenever makes me freaking useless. so i push myself out there to keep you safe because that’s literally the least i can do for you, since i can’t even do the bare minimum.”

you gasped softly. “toge huh? this is—”

he shook his head once more and you stopped as he typed again.

“i always try to make you laugh with the things that i do or whenever i text you because i’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me not being able to talk to you and you’ll leave. which is also something i would never blame you for and understand.”

your heart squeezed in the worst excruciatingly way possible, completely baffled and mortified to the fact that toge was thinking about things like this and wholeheartedly believing it without you noticing or him saying anything to you about it.

he typed again.

“that’s why i cosplay as gojo when i leave for missions and come back a dumbass with blood in my mouth. that’s why i forget when you tell me to be careful because the need to be something for you is way fucking greater.”

“togeee!” you sobbed, bursting out crying like a little baby as you were moved and haunted by his words simultaneously, your arms engulfing him as he desperately shot his hands out and quickly wiped your tears again, shaking his head frantically as if pleading with you not to cry.

“how could you ever believe that?” you nudged him away and hiccuped, your eyes serious. “why haven’t you told me about this? everything you just said is literally propaganda.”

he chuckled, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“toge, why do you think i’ve been with you for so long? do you think i’m just dicking around?”

“dicking around on my dick?”

you swatted his phone away. “no! not right now.”

you both shared a small giggle, twinkling eyes looking at each other.

“if i felt like you weren’t doing even the bare minimum, i would’ve been gone before you had the chance to put this ring on—”

his gaze drifted down to the black shiny heart promise ring on your ring finger that you held up for him, and he smiled softly.

“baby what you do for me everyday is above and beyond the bare minimum. i’m happy. i’m so happy to be with you that you not doing enough has never crossed my mind and it never will.”

you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little, gently. “i’ve never cared about your ability to speak. i fell in love with you, who you are, and the fact that i did without you having to iterate words to me? olympic sport.”

toge rolled his eyes playfully at your comment, and you stood on your tippy toes and kissed the tip of his pretty nose then. “all men do when they talk is lie anyways…” you tilted your head. “but i know you’ll never lie to me.”

“never.” he mouthed silently.

he bundled you up in his arms and lifted you like you were nothing, him carefully leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as if you were a fragile little thing— kissing you so devotedly, warmly, his forehead resting against yours once he pulled apart after greedily getting his daily fix of you.

“i know your job as a jujutsu sorcerer pays the bills and comes with you putting yourself in difficult situations… and my job doesn’t even compare, but please don’t overdo it for my sake. i want you to come home, okay?”

you know it’s selfish… he should be saving lives no matter the cost.

but he was your man. was it so bad to just want to keep him for the rest of your days? to get the chance to grow old with him, and buy a little quiet house on the country side like you always joked about in the late hours of the night with him? drinking cool glasses of lemonade on the porch?

“please don’t always be the hero.” you whispered guiltily. “but if you must… just keep me in mind while you do it.”

you’re always on his mind. he hopes you know that.

toge breathed softly through his nose and smoothly set you back down, the pads of your feet making contact with the icy tile flooring as his hands dragged up from around your waist to the sides of your head, him pushing a hard kiss to your cheek as if to seal your request.

“do you promise?” you mumbled.

he pulled back and held his little pinky out for you, and you giggled, linking yours with his firmly.

“you can’t go back on it okay? you used your pinky it’s legally binding!” you warned, a silly smile on your face. “don’t lie to me and break it.”

toge grinned and leaned towards you as he bent down a bit— your gaze locking with his as he looked at you at eye level with his hands on his knees, him mouthing his next words, slowly.

words that made your cheeks buzz a cutesy pink, words that he took seriously, and words that tied you to him and the little house by the countryside he wanted so badly with you, as those words solidified how much he truly truly loved you— him hoping you always knew.

“i would never lie to you.” he mouthed.

taglist!! <33: @saebaey

[cerneterydrive]

//

[cliosunshine]

𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐬

Jason Todd x dragon trainer!reader

Summary: after a portal mysteriously opened in your world, setting all of your dragons loose, you must find a way to take them all back home before it's too late and before you catch feelings for a certain cute guy in a red helmet

Warnings: none; some mild cussing, reader wears glasses and jay's a bit awkward lol

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: first fic ever yay! I was rewatching HTTYD and this idea came to me and who am I to deny the muses of writing

Jason knew this patrol was going to be a tough one.

The usual gloomy Gotham night had a sort of electric tension to it, putting everyone on edge.

As he finished securing the guns on his holsters, a deafening roar made him jump out of his skin.

It was nothing like he had ever heard before: the sound seemed like it came from above his building complex, akin to that of a thousand lions. A loud thump shook the whole building and Jason peeked his head out of the window, watching as people on the streets were running away from flames, screaming in terror.

He sighed warily, grabbing more magazines than usual and hurrying down the fire escape, too preoccupied to reach his bike and go to the Batcave to tell them what the fuck was going on than to look back out of the kitchen window, where a pair of giant eyes was watching him leave his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of his building in a hurry, so close to reaching his bike in the garage, he abruptly stopped as he was face to face - or better yet, face to snout - with the humongous muzzle of a giant lizard.

Or at least that's what he thought it was until the creature opened his mouth and emitted scorching flames too close for his comfort.

Jason backed up, his mind running a hundred miles an hour.

"Hey there, buddy..." He tried to coax the thing, who was eyeing him with a blood-lust gaze.

Jason gulped, not too sure about his helmet's fire resistance anymore.

The thing was at least 10 feet tall and just as big, if not more. The scales on its body reflected the streetlamp light, giving it a more menacing look and steam seemed to come out of every pore on its body.

As both of them kept looking at each other, none of them relenting, Jason swiftly pulled out his gun, aiming it at the creature just as quickly.

Frightened by the sudden movement, the giant lizard thingy that he didn't want to call a dragon but that looked scarily similar to one, screeched, causing Jason to let go of his gun and clutch at his helmet in pain, the noise unbearable.

The dragon -yes, he was going to call it that- stumbled again and zeroed in his fire breath directly on his garage door, melting the metal panel.

"Shit!" Jason took several steps back to shield himself from the heat.

The dragon kept at it for several seconds, but all the damage was already done. As it took one final look around, it flew away, its huge wings taking out the flames.

Jason stood there in silence, the chaos of the outside world drowning out all of his thoughts as he stared at his bike, just the two silver handles barely visible in the otherwise pile of melted metal and burnt leather.

His chest heaved uncontrollably, just know realizing what he saw.

Suddenly, his comms activated, the shrill of Dick's screaming making him frown in irritation.

"Everybody, we've got dragons in Gotham!"

"No shit, Dickhead," Jason deadpanned, still looking at what remained of his bike.

"Oracle, I need a ride to the Batcave. Now."

You had spent the whole day tending to your dragon, Obsidian, as he had quickly gotten bored of his play buddies that he usually hung out by the lake with and had decided to bother you while you were studying.

"You big baby," you cooed at him, scratching his chin with your left hand as you continued typing on your laptop, one paragraph of your final essay almost finished.

After completing your bachelor's degree, you had decided to open a dragon sanctuary with your best friend from college after seeing so many of them getting mistreated and abused.

In the area where you lived, dragons were sadly thought of being more of a nuisance than loyal companions, thus leading everyone to think that they weren’t worthy of love and shelter.

The first dragon you had ever rescued was Obsidian, discovering him near your local park after a morning jog.

His little paws were sticking out of the half-burned box he was laying in and you couldn't resist his big amber eyes staring at you, so you took him home, much to your parents' chagrin.

Now here you were, nearly two years later and almost finishing your master's thesis with a huge, sassy dragon resting his head on your lap and demanding scritches behind his horns.

"You're so cute, Obi," you smiled down at him.

The dragon responded by gently nuzzling his head further into your lap, a low purring rumbling through your whole body.

"So cute, such a cutesy, lovely-" your cooing was cut short by a large swooshing sound and screeches coming from the lake.

You furrowed your brows as you felt the way Obsidian's body tensed up and started growling at the direction the noise came from.

You set your laptop aside as you made your way towards the lake, your dragon hot on your tail, his black scales reflecting the moonlight.

"What the hell's going on?", you muttered to yourself as you reached the premises.

Your eyes widened as you saw all the dragons of your sanctuary lose their minds, their wings flapping erratically as they screeched in fright.

Slowing approaching the flock, you noticed how they were huddled around a sparkle of some sort.

You took your utility belt and your trustworthy lasso from the nearby hut in case something came out to harm you.

The sparkle was emitting blue light and it kept keeping bigger and bigger, opening up like some sort of portal, and as it grew in size, the dragons freaked out more and more, to the point where you had trouble controlling Obsidian as well.

"Easy now, easy, Obi," you tried to reassure him. Your bond with him was extremely solid and transcended everything you had felt before, so you could calm him down enough for him to still listen to you, but it was too late for the rest of them.

Now too far gone, they became skittish and as the both of you approached them, they ran through the portal, one by one.

You ran after them, swiftly getting on Obi's back as you saw the portal getting smaller again.

"Shit, Obi, run faster!"

As you shouted at him, you felt his wings sprawling out and you took flight, passing through the portal.

You looked around as you took in your new surroundings, but you quickly had to clutch your nose at the pungent reek of smog and overall dirt that seemed to cling to the city below you.

You furrowed your brows in disdain as you saw skyscraper after skyscraper, not a single ounce of green in sight.

It all was so different from your home, but you quickly had to regain your composure as you saw your dragons already wreaking havoc through the city, squishing cars under their weight and setting things on fire.

"Obi, fly low," you instructed him.

He grunted in acknowledgement as he slowly lowered himself from his previous stance and you instructed him to land on a rooftop.

Getting off, you took a once over at Obsidian, checking for anything out of the ordinary that might have happened as he flew through the portal.

Reassured that he was all set, you released a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Everything here seemed so...strange.

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck the city and you could feel the static that was left in its wake.

Where were you anyway?

You didn’t have much time to ponder on the question as you saw one of your wind dragons, Helix, making his way towards the outskirts of the city, gusts of wind quickly encircling him as he flew away. The white dragon couldn’t have been too far away from you, so you decided to follow him in attempt to lasso him back and tranquilise him. You hated carrying the tranquiliser gun, but you knew that it was better to be safe than sorry when dealing with these giant creatures.

As you hopped back onto Obsidian’s back, a light caught your eye.

It was being shone from a near-by building, and it represented a…bat?

You contemplated on the image a bit, but then got pulled back to reality by you dragon suddenly taking flight.

You yelped as you reached for his horns, trying to hold onto them, completely caught by surprise.

“Whoa, Obi, what has gotten into you?” you screamed at the dragon, who huffed in response, tailgating Helix.

You held tightly to your dragon’s back, the absence of a saddle not bothering you, as that’s how you first learned to ride.

You quickly approached Helix, the white dragon’s movements erratic and confusing you.

As you got closer to him, you let go of Obi’s horns and unravelled your lasso, positioning yourself upright, ready to catch one of his legs or, more hopefully, one of his wings.

The pursuit lasted several minutes and you couldn’t get a clear opening.

Just as you thought you had a clear view of his hind legs, Obi suddenly stopped and remained still, his black wings still flapping to keep the both of you in the air.

You were about to question him but the words died in your throat as you saw that Helix was headed straight to what seemed like a manor’s rooftop.

Your eyes widened in shock, but you knew you couldn’t do much and just looked with your mouth agape as he made full contact with the building, the great force of the collision seemingly rattling the manor.

Meanwhile, Jason and the others were in the Batcave, contemplating what to do.

“You know,” chimed Damian, “if these dragons are anything like Goliath, we’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said as he looked up at his pet dragon, who was lazily lounging next to him.

Both Dick and Jason deadpanned at that.

Dick was the first to speak up, his arms moving all over the place, “Have you seen them?” he asked, incredulous at his little brother’s words, “they’re freaking huge, much bigger than Goliath and much, much scarier,”

“One of them set my bike on fire.” Was all that Jason said, his arms crossed in irritation, wanting to get rid of them already.

Stephanie wheezed, holding her stomach as she doubles over in laughter, “Is that why you asked Barbara for the Batmobile to be brought to you?”

All she received was a dirty look.

“If that’s of any consolation, another one of them almost stomped me to death,” added Tim, shivering at the memory of almost becoming a human patty mere minutes ago.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a contemplative sigh as he thought on what to do next.

Before he got a change to open his mouth, a loud crash with a following roaring sound shook the Batcave's walls and the manor, making everyone brace themselves onto the console so they wouldn’t fall.

Jason locked eyes with Cass as he shouted a “what the fuck is going on?”, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

Bruce put on his cowl and gestured for them all to follow him, not waiting for them as they all put on their domino masks and helmets and got out of the cave as well.

“I hope to God that wasn’t a fucking dragon crashing right into the manor because if it was-”

Dick’s threat fell on deaf ears as they all reached the left wing of the building and saw a huge white dragon trying to wiggle out of his spot on the rooftop, as it had completely caved it in when it crashed.

All they could do was watch in horror as the creature seemed to flap its wings trying to escape, sending bricks and debris flying everywhere.

They all swiftly dodged the moving objects, when all of a sudden, a person’s screaming voice pierced through the chaos.

Jason looked to the left of the manor and could hardly make out the silhouette of another dragon, this time pitch-black, who had…a person on its back??

He had to do a double take to confirm that what he saw wasn’t something his mind was conjuring up: on the dragon’s back there was a woman with a glowing lasso in her hands, yelling something at the white dragon who continued to thrash on – or should he say in – the manor’s roof.

Her yelling stopped as she spotted them on the ground, all of Gotham’s vigilantes staring with a mixture of confused and awe-struck expressions on their faces as she told something to the black dragon she was on and quickly landed on the manor’s grounds, the dimensions of the creature really showing when its horns brushed against the top branches of one of the oak trees planted by the entrance.

“Fucking hell…” was all that Jason could mutter as he took in the creature’s large body, covered in black scales that reflected the garden lights in hues of metallic blue and purple. Its spiked tail swished back and forth as it started down at the group with its beady amber eyes, almost as if it was challenging them to try and come closer to you, now standing in front of it.

You held a hand to its snout and whispered something to the lines of “calm down, bub, I’m just going to talk to them”, and the dragon visibly relaxed but still kept a guarded stance.

You hesitantly approached Jason and the others, who were all sizing you up to determine if you were a possible threat or not, but upon reading your relaxed and submissive body language their shoulders slightly sagged.

You walked until you were a few meters from them, then stopped and pointed back at the creature on the manor’s roof with your thumb.

“My dragon’s on your roof,” you said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your head.

No shit, Jason thought, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth nonetheless.

He was admiring the way you purposely carried yourself with a calm and composed, albeit quite awkward, demeanour, having probably realized that dragons weren’t an everyday sighting here.

Your eyes sparkled behind your glasses as you latched your lasso back onto your utility belt. Jason noticed how you were wearing civilian clothes, quite similar to the ones you could find in most stores here in Gotham, so he wondered how on earth did you look like some sort of dragon-cowboy back there, up in the air, with the lasso hovering over your head as you swung it with expertise.

Bruce was the first one to talk, taking a few steps towards you. You widened your eyes in surprise, not having noticed the black-clad man until now. A shiver run down your spine as you saw the menacing cowl he was wearing.

“Who are you and why are you here.”

You released a shaky breath as you started talking, feeling everyone’s eyes on you.

“Listen, I don’t know where I am but I was just minding my own business when all of a sudden, a portal bigger than my house opened up in my backyard and that may have heavily triggered my dragons and they kinda went through it and are now here and I know they are wreaking havoc and are overall being so naughty I’m so sorry-” you said all in one breath, your apologetic nature getting the best of you as you pleaded them not to hurt them.

Dick held his arm up, shutting you up, “They’re yours?” He said, an incredulous look clearly shown on his face despite his domino mask covering his eyes.

You nodded as if that were the most normal thing ever, giving him a strange look.

“Uh, yeah?” You said, looking back at Obsidian, pointing at him, “Well, he’s technically mine, but the others are, too, since I’ve rescued them and they’re now staying at my sanctuary-” you got interrupted again, this time by Damian, who received a concerned gaze from you, shocked to see a kid.

“You have a sanctuary for dragons?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling very excited to have someone to talk about dragons to.

You smiled in excitement, your sudden change in body language not going unnoticed by Jason as he kept quiet, memorizing your every feature.

God she’s pretty.

Jason caught Cass’ gaze and felt himself blush as she gave him a knowing look, having clearly read his body language as well.

He was so grateful to have his helmet on at that moment.

Your laugh pulled him out of his thoughts and he caught you answer to one of Bruce’s questions.

“-yeah, so I don’t know where it exactly was, I only was some skyscrapers after I passed through it,” you quickly explained.

Bruce nodded in contemplation, lowering his gaze to the ground, before your next question made him snap his stern eyes back at you.

“So, what’s up with the costumes and the masks?” You asked, slightly confused at the funny looking people in front of you. Maybe they were having some sort of party?

“You don’t know who we are?” Asked Stephanie in slight surprise.

You chuckled, looking at her, “Should I?”

“Duh, we’re Gotham’s best – and only – vigilantes!”

“What’s a…vigilante?”

Uh?

“UH?”

Everybody’s incredulous gaze snapped to you and sensing your discomfort, Obsidian growled in warning at the group, still not getting too close to them per your command.

“Easy, Obi,” you reassured your dragon, smiling to comfort him. He huffed and turned his head to look at Helix, who had since stopped struggling and was looking at you curiously from his place on the manor’s roof.

“Uhm, so…” you continued, staring back at the group, “where I come from, we don’t have vigilantes…so, care to explain what you guys do, exactly?”

Jason huffed a laugh at Dick’s defeated expression, his pride noticeably shrinking by the second as you stared at him as he were a lunatic.

“We fight crime,” he said, turning your attention to him. He noticed your perplexed gaze, probably caused by the helmet he was wearing, “but we do it in suits and masks to conceal our identity since, you know, we have day jobs and carry normal lives during the day.”

You mouth opened in realization, bashful for having mistaken them for randos but also relieved to have struck conversation with people who might be able to help you.

“So, you’re like dragon protectors!” you said in awe, “they basically do the same stuff you guys say you do, but while riding dragons so they can cover more land.”

“Wait that’s actually so cool-”

“I know, they’re the coolest people where I come from!!”

“Wait, where do you come from?”

You furrowed your brows, thinking of an answer that will probably help them understand your world better.

“Earth...?”

“What do you mean Earth, this is Earth”, said another one of the vigilantes, a quite lanky one with black bangs falling on his eyes.

You shrugged in response.

“We call it Earth, so I don’t know what to tell you, really”

“Well, then, we must figure out where the signal of the portal came from so we can understand if it was opened from your Earth or ours, and then we’ll help you bring the dragons back-” Bruce’s plan was interrupted by Helix’s roar, this time in desperation as he wanted to be freed by the bricks that were digging into his scaled body.

You signed, turning back to them with an apologetic smile, “I’ll get that.”

“Do you want us to help?”

You shook your head, thanking them, apologizing for the dragon-sized damage.

Bruce dismissed you with his hand, telling you not to worry about it.

As you walked back towards Obsidian, he turned back to the others, his tight-lipped expression evaluating the possible outcomes this situation could bring upon Gotham.

“So, what do we think?” said Tim, his gaze not leaving your figure as you hopped onto your dragon’s back.

“She’s nice, I like her.”

“We’re not talking about that. We need to know if we can trust her not to use the dragons to turn the city to literal ashes,” said Damian, receiving a groan in response by Stephanie.

“You’re awfully quiet, Todd,” Dick jabbed his little brother with his elbow, earning a stomp on his foot.

“What do you want me to say?” he responded, truly at a loss of words, “I mean, dragons? In Gotham?”

“What about Goliath, then?”

“Well, he isn’t from here as well, you know,”

“I should show her him! Maybe she could tell us why he’s been itching like crazy for the last few weeks-”

The banter stopped as Tim’s “Guys, look!” made everyone turn back around and watch with wide eyes at the scene before them.

You were now a good 15 feet from the ground, the wings of your dragon flapping steadily as you got up to your feet, positioning your body sideways to stabilize your core.

You took the lasso into your hands and started rotating it in a circular motion at the white dragon in front od you, who had begun to wriggle again out of fear of staying stuck there, his frightened gaze unable to clearly see you.

It was safe to say he’d never been the sharpest dragon amongst your flock.

Jason stared in awe as you swinged the rope one last time before flinging it at the dragon, catching him by one of his crooked horns. You secured your hold on it, tightening the rope quickly and then putting it in Obsidian’s mouth, who pulled once, twice, and at the third time successfully released his friend, setting him down onto the ground with a loud thump that shook the trees and bushes surrounding the premises of the manor.

You quickly got off of your dragon’s back and with some sort of weapon in hand and made your way towards the creature. Jason furrowed his brows in confusion at your “I’m so sorry buddy”, thinking the worst when you aimed the gun at his throat, but taking a breath in relief when he saw it was a dart gun.

The dart now jabbed in Helix’s throat had a quick effect on his, as he slumped over, his chin squishing a fine topiary, turning the squirrel-shaped bush into a sad blob of leaves.

You smiled to yourself and petted Obsidian’s snout, praising him for a job well done.

Turning back to the group, you shouted happily, waving your arms to attract their attention but stopping mid air as you saw them all already staring at you.

“Can he stay here for a while?”

[sugarverse]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried. 

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave. 

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major.. 

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy. 

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.” 

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him. 

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more. 

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention. 

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him. 

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

 “I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.” 

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but.. 

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean. 

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long. 

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?” 

“crystal, in fact, anything for-” 

smack!

“What part of  ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?”  He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology. 

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.” 

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth. 

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair. 

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had. 

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip. 

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,” 

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in. 

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones.  That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[stylesloveclub]

Prose (part 2)

In which not many students attend Harry's office hours, and y/n's kind of burnt out.

+++

“What’s that drink you’re always drinking?” Harry asks, sitting across from y/n in his office.

She’s the only student to show up to his office hours this week (again), and had come to ask about the first essay that’s due next week. While she types on her computer, writing down all the notes that Harry just gave her on her first draft, Harry finds himself staring at the iced drink sitting next to her laptop.

“Oh, it’s just an iced chai. I’ve been getting two pumps of pumpkin spice syrup in it recently though, since Starbucks has their fall flavors now.”

“Hm. I’ve never tried the fall drinks.” He twirls his red pen between his fingers, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “M’always too scared to try new drinks, y’know? Like what if I don’t like it? Then I’d have wasted five bucks and I wouldn’t even have a coffee to get me through my day.” He pouts to himself at the thought of it, and y/n finds it terribly endearing.

She’s happy to know that Harry is seemingly very comfortable in her presence, prattling on and on about the simplest of things – like coffee orders and his favorite food places on campus. When she first walked in, the first thing he’d asked her was her favorite place to grab lunch on campus, since he was starving and one of the other TA’s had offered to drop off some food for him. His personal favorite was the bagel place (he could have a cream cheese bagel at any time of the day, he told her), but that place closes early, so he was stuck between getting mexican or sushi.

Y/n advised him to stick with the burritos – her ex-roommate once got food poisoning from the sushi. Never trust the on-campus sushi, she warned.

“M’kinda like that too,” she responds once she finishes up her essay outline. “I usually just always get the chai, ‘cos I know I’ll like it. But sometimes I’ll be adventurous with like, the syrups I add, because it doesn’t really make a difference. Like right now, I have pumpkin spice syrup in here, and I can barely taste it so even if I didn’t like it, it’d be fine.” She takes a sip to somehow prove her point. “I just like adding the pumpkin for the fall vibes.”

“Is fall your favorite season?” he asks. It’s been a lot of this – Harry asking her questions, getting to know her. She wonders if it’s because she’s the only one who shows up to his office hours and, therefore, is the only person whose ear he gets to talk off – or if he genuinely is interested in her. The thought of it makes her heart want to do a backflip, but she kindly tells her heart to CALM THE FUCK DOWN before she starts getting carried away in her train of thought. Harry’s just a nice guy! A nice guy, who talks to her about books, and shares his umbrella, and gives her rides home when it’s rainy outside – and has pretty pink lips, and pretty green eyes, and pretty brown curls.

“Yeah, I think so,” she hums.

Her crush on him seems to grow more and more every time she sees him, like those tall annoying weeds that you constantly have to dig out of a pretty flower garden. The type of weeds that seem to grow back even stronger each time you cut their roots and spray anti-weed chemicals on them to ensure that they don’t come back. She’s tried to smush those bothersome butterflies in her stomach, continuously reminding herself that he’s just her TA. That he’s just being nice. That he just calls her smart, and tells her that she’s doing a good job, and praises her discussion posts because that is literally what a Teaching Assistant is supposed to do. But whenever he smiles at her with that boyish dimple and his eyes glimmer all sweetly and romantically and thoughtfully – well she just can’t help it! She’s given up and has let the crush invade her brain like the invasive garden plant that it is.

It’s just a harmless little crush, she rationalizes. Just a little fantasy of kissing him here and there to get her through her boring lectures with Dr. Richmond – nothing wrong with that, right?

She clears her throat, “What’s your favorite season?”

He stares up at the ceiling, pursing his lips thoughtfully, “Hmm… probably spring. I like seeing the flowers bloom, especially after a snowy winter.”

Oh, of course he likes seeing the flowers bloom. He’s a walking piece of poetry.

+++

Harry stands at the front of the classroom, lecturing once again. It’s the same as before – fourty-ish college students hanging onto every word like his words are a waterfall and they’re a group of dehydrated travelers.

He loves teaching, loves seeing the way his students’ eyes light up with wonder when he explains a certain theme or points out a new motif. He’s more than happy to hold their hand through the novel, be their guiding light through the Romantic era. Their questions make his day, and he’s beyond happy to see that, now that they’re a few weeks into their course, the students are opening up.

“Victor is so caught up in his experiment,” Harry lectures, “that he begins to ignore nature. Victor says– ‘The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit. It was the most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage: but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature.’ So what role does nature – or should I say – the lack of nature, play for Victor?”

Four hands shoot up into the air (relieving considering how last week he could barely get anyone to say anything). “Katie, right?” He smiles when she nods, and gives an exaggerated, celebratory fist pump that makes all of his students chuckle. “Told you I’d start getting your names down! Go ahead, Katie.”

Although he’s laughing and smiling – practically beaming since he and his students are getting along and actually discussing (instead of just him lecturing them) – he can’t help but feel a little pinch of sadness in the back of his mind. As his eyes scan over the seats, he can’t manage to find y/n in the class. He’d searched for her three times already – wondering if he accidentally missed her, or if she was hidden behind one of the tall boys near the front – but he couldn’t find his star student. He missed catching her eye, giving her sly winks and watching her duck her head down stifle a laugh. It kept him entertained whenever he had to sit through Dr. Richmond’s lectures, and he liked hearing her talk. Not only does she add amazing thoughts to their class discussions, but she also is just… nice to listen to.

“Good… I love how you said that Katie,” Harry carries on, “He embodies the corruption of nature in the quest for glory. And we already know how highly the Romantics regard the beauty of nature – their artwork is meant to connect us with the world, isn’t it?”

He wonders if she’s okay. She isn’t hurt or anything, is she? Did something happen to her on her walk to class?

“He’s disrupting the natural cycle of life, basically destroying nature, by trying to play God and create life himself–”

Y/n, as quietly as she can, sneaks into the classroom. She’s 15 minutes late, which isn’t late enough to just completely ditch the lecture, but still late enough to raise a few eyebrows. Of course, being the clumsy duck she is, she accidentally knocks the trash can over with a loud bang. She winces at how loud the sound is, and feels her cheeks turn hot when all eyes turn to look at her.

Harry turns as well, and can’t help but smile to himself – there she is.

He continues with his lecture, as if nothing happened, but watches as she hurries over to her set spot in the third row. She messily pushes her hair out of her face as she sits down, pulling the pull-out desk in front of her and grabbing her laptop from her bag. She types in her password quickly, and pushes the sleeves of her white cardigan up her arms so that they aren’t in the way. Her eyes briefly flicker upwards to the projector to see what she missed – but instead she accidentally catches Harry’s gaze, who’s already looking at her.

All of a sudden, Harry loses his train of thought. His eyes flicker between hers, and she stares back at him. They’re stuck like that for a moment – just the briefest moment – before he realizes that words are no longer coming out of his mouth and that the rest of the class is staring at him expectantly.

His cheeks tint pink. “Um… sorry, what was I saying?” He chuckles at himself embarrassedly, shaking his head at himself – it’s not often that he stutters over his words. But, luckily, it was brief enough to just pass as a slight fumble. Nothing too suspicious.

Harry tears his eyes away from y/n and resumes with his lecture. But somehow, as delusional as she might be, y/n can tell that that moment was something more than just a slight stumble.

+++

“I got this for you,” y/n says, standing in front of Harry’s desk, placing the iced drink down next to his pile of papers.

Harry furrows his eyebrows and sits up straighter. “What?”

“It’s a pumpkin iced chai… the same one I usually get. I thought, since last time you said you didn’t wanna waste five bucks trying a new drink–”

“Are you mental?” he interrupts.

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Why would you go on and waste five of your dollars instead?” he huffs. “Christ, y/n, don’t be silly, m’not letting you buy me a coffee. How much was it, let me pay you back–” he’s reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, but y/n is quick to refuse.

“No, don’t worry I didn’t pay for it! Starbucks has this thing– it’s like, if you buy one fall drink you can get a second one for free, but it’s only on Thursdays after 12. And I was gonna get one for myself anyway, so I was like– might as well just get the second one for free so that you can try it and not waste five dollars.”

He pauses, his wallet half open and a five dollar bill pinched between her fingers. He squints at her, “Are you lying?”

She gives an exasperated huff, “Why would I lie?!”

“I dunno, maybe you’re trying to butter me up with drinks and stuff so that I’ll grade your essays easier – which won’t work by the way! M’not easy to bribe!”

She rolls her eyes and plops into the seat across from him. “Please. If I was gonna try and butter you up, it would’ve started five weeks ago, when classes actually started. And I probably wouldn’t be in your office hours every week groveling over these stupid essays.” She lets her bag fall to the floor and blows the hair out of her face. “Y’know, Dr. Richmond does not explain the politics of 18th Century Europe well enough to expect me to write an entire essay on ‘the effects of globalization on romantic era literature.’ I signed up for a literature class, not European history. When are we gonna start writing essays on Frankenstein and feminism?”

Harry goes to respond, but right at that moment he takes a tentative sip of the drink that y/n had forced onto his desk. He cannot hide the grimace that graces his face.

Her eyes round out and her eyebrows pinch. “You don’t like it?” she says with a pout.

His lips smack together a few times, trying to get used to the taste of pumpkin in his mouth – but he actually really cannot stand it. “God,” he says, his nose wrinkles and his tongue aching for some water to wash away the pumpkin-y after taste. “What a waste of five dollars.”

“Oh my gosh– I did not spend five dollars on a drink for you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pushes the drink to the edge of his desk, the sight of it making his tummy turn a little bit (he really did not like that pumpkin flavor mixed with milk). He then states the obvious, “You were late today.”

“Yeah. I overslept.”

He tsks, “What happened to the punctual Miss y/n who showed up twenty minutes early on the first day of classes?”

She sighs, “Dunno. Was up kinda late last night. And then I guess I snoozed through my alarm.”

It’s only then that he notices the dark circles under her eyes, and how her face is missing that usual radiant glow. He’s so caught up in her smile and her eyes, that he nearly missed the exhaustion leaking off her body. “How late?” he inquires.

“Um… like 3 in the morning.” Harry gapes at her, and she shrugs.

“Tha’s not healthy,” he scolds like a father. “Why’re you staying up so late, hm? Should be in bed for at least 6-8 hours, don’t you know that?”

“I know,” she rubs at her eyes tiredly. “I just have a psych midterm next week that m’really freaked out about. I like– fell behind on the lectures, so m’trying to learn like the past three weeks of material in a few days.”

Harry feels his heart ache, sympathizing for this poor, tired, hard-working girl. He knows the struggles of undergrad – he was pulling all nighters too, back in his day, and he never dared to go above 16 units. He wonders how she’s surviving, taking 20 units while still being at the top of her classes – well, she’s at the top of this class, he knows for certain. His star student.

Her eyes are still hidden behind her hands, knuckling at her eyelids, but she pulls them away slowly when she feels Harry’s hand at her knee. She looks at him, and he’s suddenly aware of how red and glossy her eyes are. “Just don’t overdo the studying, okay?” he says with soft eyes and a gentle voice. His thumb rubs overtop her knee softly, saying a hundred words that he can’t say out loud just quite yet.

She nods, and swallows thickly. “Okay.”

He smiles. “So you want a crash course in European History? I can do that for you. Dunno why more people don’t show up to my office hours, m’literally about to tell you exactly what to write…”

+++

Y/n is exhausted.

Actually, exhausted doesn’t cut it. She is at her breaking point.

With midterms week upon her, she’s been drowning herself in her school work, trying to keep up with her lectures and recap everything that she’s learned up until this point. Kind of difficult, when she’s fallen so dreadfully behind and barely knows what’s going on in her stats class. And – to make things worse, not only does she have both her stats and psych midterm this Friday, but she also needs to finish this stupid Globalization essay by tomorrow’s deadline.

Seven pages about The Effects of Globalization on British Romantic Literature. She currently has three pages written.

She’s screwed.

It’s not like she was trying to get behind! She tried so hard to stay on top of her studies. She promised herself that she’d finish the globalization essay last night – went to starbucks with her noise canceling headphones, got herself an iced pumpkin chai as a motivational treat, and sat down to turn all her notes into a beautiful, magical essay on Romanticism that would make Dr. Richmond weep.

But… the words just weren’t wording! Her brain refused to cooperate with her, despite the fact that she stayed at the Starbucks literally up until they kicked her out. She read her sources, went over her excerpts, wrote and rewrote her thesis over and over again… and only got three out of the seven pages done. She doesn’t know whether to blame Dr. Richmond for assigning such a stupid essay, or just her own sleep-deprived brain.

She’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep last night. And the night before that, too. Harry’s words ring loudly in her head, scolding her to get at least six hours of sleep every night… but she just has so much work to do! She has to do her psych readings, her stats homework, the midterm practice her stats professor posted, and this essay… It's a lot. Plus having to actually attend all of her classes and go to work (she works at the campus bookstore) on top of all her homework and studying? She barely has time to eat!!!

Her tummy grumbles miserably, a painful reminder of the fact that she had forgotten to pack herself a lunch this morning in her haste to get to class on time. The pain is nowhere as bad as her headache, though. It’s the kind of migraine you get when you barely got any sleep. Her head feels heavy, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and her eyes sting every time she blinks. It’s horrible. She can barely focus on anything. Not her stats homework, not the essay open in front of her.

Not even Harry, who’s sitting to her left, helping her with her essay. In fact, she’s completely missed what he’s spent the past minute explaining to her.

She blinks at him slowly. “Sorry… can you say that again?”

Harry’s pretty face pinches, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glimmering with concern. She’s so clearly off today… he can’t ignore her red-rimmed eyes and zoning out any longer. “…are you okay?” he asks timidly.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says quickly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine.” But it’s like as soon as she says those two words, the dam holding her together collapses, and a river of emotion comes barreling through her. She looks down at the open document on her laptop, stares at the cursor blinking at her. The blank page taunting her. Tears well up in her eyes, and her heart starts to swell sadly. She’s not fine at all.

She quickly hides her face from Harry, looking down at her lap. She is NOT allowed to cry in front of him, she reprimands herself. She’s kept herself together all day, why is she starting to get emotional now, in the middle of his office hours? Couldn’t it have waited until she was alone in her shower?

She swallows around the lump in her throat, and presses her palms to her stinging eyes. As if that’ll keep her tears at bay. “Sorry,” she mumbles, trying to conceal her shaky voice, “let me just think for a second.”

“Hey…” Harry sees right through it. “Hey, come on. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, mostly trying to convince herself. She sniffles as quietly as she can and tries to rub the tears away. “Sorry, nothing. I’m fine.”

She reaches for her laptop, but Harry grabs her hand. “No.” He can’t ignore the glossy sheen of her eyes, or the quiet sniffles. He just can’t. “We need to take a break.”

“It’s really fine–” she tries to say, but she can barely get it out with how her throat is swelling. She stares down at the floor. Harry holds her hand.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His hands are big and warm, encasing her’s, wholly. A cross tattoo sits between the slit of his thumb and second finger, twitching as his thumb grazes her knuckles.

“M’just tired,” she says dejectedly. “I was up super late last night and I just… didn’t even get anything done. And now I have to finish this, and I haven’t finished my stats homework, and I have two midterms on Friday.” Her heart starts to race as she realizes much she has to do, and how little time she has. She’s stretched herself thin. “There’s just so much I have to get done,” her voice cracks, “and I’m so tired.” A big fat tear rolls down her face, and drops onto her shirt – shamefully staining the thin material.

Harry gets out of his chair and kneels down in front of her, resting their joint hands in her lap as he stares up at her. More tears fill her eyes without her consent, and her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she sniffles. She refuses to meet his gaze, despite how earnestly he’s looking into her sad eyes. Another drop falls from her lashes.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs sadly.

“I thought I could handle it all,” she bleats. “But I’m so unprepared for my midterms, and I need to finish this essay, and I promised you that I’d stay on top of my work, but I’m falling behind–”

“Don’t worry about the essay,” he interrupts. “I’ll get you an extension on your paper.”

She shakes her head. “Dr. Richmond doesn’t do extensions, though,” she blubbers.

“I’ll talk to him,” he says firmly. “M’the one grading it anyway.”

“But Harry–” she whines, shamelessly childlike, “I promised you that this wouldn’t happen. I told you I could handle it.”

“And you can handle it. I know you can.” His green eyes are wide and round as he looks up at her, earnest and pleading. “You come to office hours, and you study hard, and you’d stay up all night to finish this essay – but I don’t want you to. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know you can do it.”

She pouts, still not looking up at him. She stares instead at their joint hands in her lap blankly.

“You’re doing so good,” he coos, “You’re coming to office hours even when you have so much going on, and you’re taking so many units. I know you’re giving it your all. S’okay.”

He reaches a hand out to rest on her shoulder, and suddenly she feels the weight of the world fall off of her chest. A long, shaky breath leaves her, and she blinks her eyes shut, letting more tears cascade down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry’s heart breaks. He leans up to wrap his arms around her shoulders, a soft hug, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder, letting the tears silently fall. His hands rub big, soothing circles on her back, and he shushes her softly, “It’s alright.”

His blue dress shirt feels cool against her face, crisp and fresh, and he smells like vanilla and smoked wood. She doesn’t want to abandon his firm chest, his warm embrace, but he pulls back and looks into her eyes. For the first time, she meets his gaze. “No more crying, okay?”

She sniffles, and wipes the wetness off her cheeks. “M’kay.”

A soft smile smooths out the worried lines on his face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says, his hands slapping his thighs as he stands back up. “You’re going to take a nap–” he closes his office door and locks it with a click.

“A nap?” her watery voice exclaims. “But– I need to study!”

He gives her a firm look. “You’re not gonna get any studying done if your brain isn’t well rested.” From one of the bottom drawers of his desk, he pulls out a blanket (he sometimes will take a nap in his office if he needs a break from grading). “Take a nap. I’ll wake you in an hour and then y’can study in here.”

+++

You know that peaceful feeling that surrounds a room when a baby is taking a nap? How everyone tiptoes around the crib, their voices barely surpassing a whisper in fear of waking the sleeping baby. How parents will stand around, just watching the baby nap, smiling to themselves when their baby twitches in its sleep. How the world just seems more… peaceful?

That’s how Harry feels right now.

Y/n is on his couch, his cozy gray blanket pulled up to her chin. Her cheeks are puffed, her tired eyes shut with her eyelashes resting delicately on the tops of her cheeks. She looks angelic, the most relaxed he’s ever seen her be, with no midterms stressing her out. No papers due, no furrowed eyebrows, no crying. Like a sleeping baby, cherubic and sweet. He’s been tiptoeing around her for the past hour, grading papers as quietly as he can. He tried to be productive and just mind his business while she napped, but everytime he shuffled through one of the essays, he felt the urge to check on her, to make sure that he didn’t accidentally wake her up. And then he just wanted to… watch her. Not in a creepy way though!!! Not in a creepy way. In a kind of… sweet way. :( She was beautiful, especially when she slept.

His heart doesn’t want to wake her up – not when she looks so peaceful for the first time weeks. All the times he’s seen her since that very first week was her stressing and stressing and stressing – stressing about getting a permission code from Dr. Richmond, stressing about her exams, stressing about the rain. He’s never gotten to see her take a breath and be calm. She’s a hard worker, he can tell – which is a great trait that he admires in his students. But, with y/n… he just wants to make sure she’s okay, too.

He kneels down in front of the couch, and regretfully murmurs out, “y/n?” She doesn’t respond at all– she’s dead to the world. All the exhaustion that she’d accumulated this past week, all the hours of sleep she missed, are catching up with her now. He tries again, “Y/n… time to wake up.”

Her eyebrows furrow and her nose wrinkles, but she still refuses to open her eyes. The pull of sleepiness is too strong. It makes him chuckle. “Come on, bunny,” he says, in reference to her twitchy nose and pouty lips. “V’got a snack for you.”

Her sleepy eyes blink open, and immediately he can tell that she needed that nap. Her eyes are brighter, less red, and she stares up at him sweetly. “A snack?”

Of course that would get her to wake up. His dimple pokes his cheek. “S’not much. Just a granola bar. But it’ll help you while you study.”

She sits up, the blanket pooling around her waist, and rubs at her eye with her knuckle.

“Feeling better?” He asks, a hand on her knee.

She nods. She’d taken an Advil for her headache before she’d gone to sleep. That, with her nap, has made the prospect of studying a little bit more bearable.

When she looks around the room, she sees that Harry’s cleared up a portion of his desk for her to study at. Gone are his stacks of books, a bare square of wood right across from the stack of essays he’s currently grading. The usual foldable chair that he has students sit in during his office hours has been moved to the corner, and has been replaced with one of the more comfy, rolly chairs. He’s gone out of his way to make a sweet little study space for her while she napped in his office.

“Now… we’re gonna have to leave by 9,” Harry says, standing up and going round to his side of his desk. “Cos v’got to feed my cat. But that gives us at least… two hours of study time. N’then I can take you home. How does that sound?”

She blinks. “Harry… thank you.” She doesn’t know why he’s being so nice to her, or what she’s done to deserve such kind treatment. But it means the world.

He shrugs nonchalantly, but she doesn’t miss the dimple that pinches his cheek as he smiles to himself.

+++

They stay in his office until nightfall.

Harry’s nicely styled curls turn messy, his fingers tangling through his hair he graded the freshman papers (is he a harsh grader, or does this new generation truly not know how to write?). His eyebrows furrow behind his tortoise shell glasses, green eyes hard and serious. Y/n watches the way his lips purse, how he taps his red pen against his chin while he reads.

Her own brain is done with studying. After her nap, she started playing her classical music and sat down to finish her stats homework AND the practice midterm. Without the globalization essay to worry about, she managed to calm down and focus, get some of her work done, and catch up on the things she was so behind on. Does she feel any better about the exam? No. But at least she can say that she studied!

Harry manages to make a nice dent in the stack of ungraded papers as well, working well in the comfortable silence filtering between the two of them. There was no need for them to talk, and they didn’t distract each other either. Simply getting their work done next to each other, and enjoying each other’s presence (though neither one of them would outright admit how nice it is to just sit in silence with the other).

They pack up and head out together when it gets closer to nine. Harry holds the office door open for her and locks his door behind them, and they walk closely together towards the parking lot. It’s dark, the ground only lit by the few streetlights looming above them, and a shiver racks through y/n’s body from the cool autumnal air. She hadn’t planned on being on campus so late – she thought that she’d probably go straight home after office hours and pull an all-nighter to finish her essay – so therefore, she doesn’t have much of a jacket except for a lame cardigan over her shirt.

Harry, who usually is on campus until nightfall anyway, wishes he could do something for her when he notices the way she’s hugging herself, her cardigan pulled over her fingers. He wants to pull her to his side, wrap an arm around her and share his body warmth with her – but that would be entirely too unprofessional, he thinks. Instead he picks up his pace, forcing y/n to scurry in order to keep up with his long strides, and immediately turns on the heat for her.

He doesn’t need to ask for directions this time, knowing exactly where to turn and how to get to her apartment, and when he pulls up in front of her door, he turns to her quietly. “Listen. Don’t stress about the paper. Focus on studying for your exams, and then you can have the entire weekend to finish the paper, okay?”

“I feel… bad. Like, Dr. Richmond said no extensions, and you’re making these exceptions for me–”

“Don’t overthink it,” Harry interrupts. “Dr. Richmond just says that so people don’t just ask for extensions because they procrastinated. He will grant extensions when there’s a valid reason.”

“But, really it’s not a valid reason… everyone else has midterms.”

“But none of those other students have shown me how much they care about this class. I know you’re a hard worker, I know you aren’t just procrastinating.” He shrugs, “M’the one who makes the calls. And I think you deserve an extension.”

She sits there quietly, then says, “I-I just don’t want you to think I only came to your office hours to cry and make you give me an extension. I… come to your office hours for help. You’re like… helpful.” She says that last part awkwardly, and it makes him chuckle quietly.

“You can say I’m your favorite TA. I won’t tell.” His dimple pokes his cheek as he smirks at her teasingly, and she can’t help but giggle too. Her eyes twinkle as she looks at him with a small shake of her head. That wasn’t what she was getting at… but it is true.

They stare at each other for a moment too long. One of Harry’s hands rests on the wheel, while the other one comes up to play with his lip. Y/n’s hands sit politely in her lap, her bag sitting at her feet on the passenger’s seat floor. They’re both quiet, not knowing what to say. Yeah, they’re laughing and teasing each other, but something heavier lingers in the air around them. This tension… this magnetic energy. Neither y/n nor Harry know what’s causing it, or why the silence is suddenly so overwhelming. The smile on y/n’s face lingers in her eyes, which glimmer as she stares at Harry. And Harry, who had been smirking mischievously, now looks at y/n with a bit of a more serious air. He stares at her thoughtfully, his bottom lip pinched between his lips. His eyes wander down to her lips, pretty and heart shaped. She’s chewing the inside of her lip softly, and he wants to brush his thumb over her mouth and tell her to stop.

He catches himself, and quickly tears his eyes away before she notices. He clears his throat.

“Take care of y’self,” he says with a soft smile. “I want to see you well rested in class next week, okay?”

+++

HOPE U GUYS LOVED IT!!!!!! part 3 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (oct 21) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!! more tarry to come!

Prose (part 3) is already posted on patreon! : In which y/n is Harry's favorite student, and she sort of somehow accidentally kisses him.

Prose Masterlist

[starlightandfairies]

Surprise !!!!! Me again haha 😂

I'd maybe have another Elijah idea, where you're like a teacher just like the female version of Alaric and you're a couple. One time you're over at his, trying to do some school work but he accidentally keeps distracting you with simple things like, showering, walking around in a towel all wet and stuff. So you tell him to stop doing that and he finally realizes what he's doing to you, so he tries to make it up by giving you a much needed massage to start with 🤭 (btw, don't worry, I know you won't write smutty things, but maybe it can be a tiny bit spicy? 😘) Love you !

Description: The reader is a professor and struggling to focus with Elijah walking around and doing the simplest things

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing, hints to spicy

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for another request! I apologise for another short one.

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 741

First Person's POV

I sat on Elijah's and mine bed, reading through my students' essays that I needed to mark, some of these students... my god they've got no idea what they're talking about. I rubbed my face, huffing irritatedly I took a breath, gave myself a breather and returned to marking through the essays. 

I glanced up and saw Elijah stepping out of the bathroom, I pursed my lips together and tilted my head to the side. Elijah, the perfect god that he is walked out with a towel hanging around his hips. His perfectly toned body glistened with water droplets, I sucked in a breath and straightened up. I went back to marking the essay, my mind going elsewhere as Elijah walked around his room, that towel covering his lower half left little to the imagination. 

I grunted lightly, trying to force myself to focus back on my assignment, I squirmed slightly as the thoughts came in and would not go away. I couldn't not think about Elijah pulling me into his arms, pushing me against the mattress and making me feel like jelly until I physically couldn't get up in the morning. I could see Elijah's look, I could see him observing me closely with so much love and care that it made the butterflies come to life. 

"Stop doing that, please," I murmured, watching as Elijah tilted his head in confusion which was then quickly replaced by a smirk as he lurked forward and rested a gentle kiss on my cheek. Leaning in closer as he placed chaste kisses against my air, his warm breath sending shivers all over as he pressed another kiss on my shoulder. 

"Stop doing what, my love?" He whispered, sitting beside me on the bed, one arm snaked around my waist and the other began rubbing my right shoulder, causing me to suck in a breath and shudder as he placed another kiss on my neck. 

"Stop being so fucking sexy." Elijah pulled me against his chest, his cologne hitting my nose, allowing for a hum to escape my lips and a delighted smile to form on his. 

"Am I distracting you?" 

"You know you are," I mumbled, placing the essay I was marking to the side, humming lightly as Elijah properly began massaging my shoulders and rested kisses across my face in a strategical pattern. He knew all my sweet spots, knew just how to tease me and how to make my mind crumble. 

"You're so tense. What's wrong?" 

"These..." I needed to pause to take a breath, the massaging was honestly really needed, I was super thankful he could read me like the back of his hand. 

"These students are giving me a migraine." 

"Don't worry about that anymore for tonight." 

"I'm gonna fall behind on my marking," I mumbled as he managed to lower me on the mattress, hovering over me his handsome features staring into my soul and gracing me with loving kisses that made me just crumble thinking of where this could go. 

"I'll help, you just tell me what to do." I nodded, my hands reaching to take off my pyjamas but Elijah easily cupped both of my wrists in one hand and shook his head with a playful tut. 

"Let me undress you, I want to enjoy this, I want to memorise every birthmark, freckle, scar and detail of your sweet and gorgeous body." I nodded, wanting to see Elijah's gorgeous features examine my body and feel his breath hit my skin as he teased and made me shudder in anticipation waiting for the moment to make this grand trick. Elijah dew out ever kiss across my navel, the warm kisses making me blush and arch forward involuntarily. 

"You're gorgeous, my love." 

"I hate that you can do this to me." He shook his head, his hand slipping my shirt off, a smirk gracing his lips as he easily slid off my shorts. 

"No, you don't, you love that I can do this." He chuckled proudly, sliding a hand under my back lifting me up and gave me the perfect chance to grasp his face gently and rest a long, deep and tender kiss against his lips.

"I've never known you to be smug." 

"Shh..." He whispered, lowering me back down against the mattress. 

"I love you so much." 

"I love you more." 

[simp-ly-writes]

For All Time

Paring: 10th Doctor x Fem! Time Lord!Reader

Summary: Many, Many worlds ago you were married to the Doctor. That was until a war tore your home planet and species apart and you were part of the lucky handful that managed to make your way out into the universe- alive. As you go through many regenerations of yourself, you run into the Master, an old friend of yours that you faintly remember. He tells you of the Doctor, warns you of your spouse and from then on, you are on a mission to never interact with him. Should be easy... right?

Warnings: 3300 words. Angst with no HEA. Themes of death. Depictions of Blood.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Doctor Who and I have only watched 12 hours worth of video essay's on the series. Please be kind and I hope you all enjoy~ :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

You were terrified of time lords, the Doctor in particular and as to not be a hypocrite, you were scared of yourself- of everything you could fuck up for all time- that you already did fuck up for all time as the Master had already reported to you all those regenerations ago.

He told you of the horrors you made, the inconsequential decisions you thought to be just so now added up to a few hundred deaths on your hands as universe's threatened to collapse and the possible elimination of dozens of species painted your hands in guilt. Your finger nails pressing into your palms as you shook your head, trying to wring the statistics out of your head. But in the sliver of a smile, his dark eyes filled your thoughts as he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned closer to your face, tears began to well up in your eyes.

You felt his breath on your neck as he brushed your hair away from your face, drinking up your tears while whispering in your ear, "But you haven't done the worst, love." He emits a small chuckle, his head knocking slighting against your own as you lean further back into the wall for support. "It is the Doctor that damned us all and yet we are the one's to be blamed, for everything, for all time, now and forever. He has killed millions, and nearly every little lover he calls companions he takes on his tyrannical adventures."

Your voice meek, throat clogged with tears as you sniffle for air, "I thought I was the only one, old friend... I thought that- that-"

"From what I know..." he cuts you off, taking a step back, allowing you room to breath as your legs give out from underneath yourself, your back falling against the wall before you are sat on the floor. Your fingers picking away at the grout between the tiles as you count the tiles of the room, doing your best to blink away the tears. "... its just the three of us and if I can offer you a tidbit of advice form one friend to another..."

He stand at full height, leaning down to lift your chin, that sliver now a toothy grin as his fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing your lips together, his eyes flash over to them before continuing his eye contact as you wince at the force he handles you with. "...continue to run away from us all." He drops your head, as if your skin burned his own and by the time you gain the momentum to look up once more, there are no traces he ever was here- he ever exist, a mere fragment of your imagination. You pick yourself up the floor and take his advice to heart.

--

So thats how you found yourself, sat underneath an umbrella in early spring within France. You and your Tardis concluded the time to be the mid two-thousands as you tried not to let the everlasting smell of piss on the streets keep you from enjoying an early brunch.

You watched as various tourists rolled themselves out onto the streets, snapping hundreds of pictures with their digital cameras, kids pointing at various things in storefronts, leading their parents chasing after them. A small smile casted upon your features as you listened to their little feet run across the cobbled streets, cheering loudly at the sweets in the window.

The Sun begins to peek out from between the clouds as you cast your gaze down to escape its shinning rays sneaking underneath your cover. Taking a sip of your now ice-cold coffee, you jolt in your seat, unaware that it was yourself who clattered the cup to the plate, trying to set your drink down. Dropping your shoulders down, your cheeks warm as the kids from earlier snap their heads towards the noise as you begin to pat your pants dry from the spilled coffee.

You swear lightly underneath your breath, your book-ruined and the liquid threatening to ruin your pants as well. Taking a napkin from the holder, you pat yourself down before opening the book in your lap, trying to air out the pages.

But soon the book and outfit become the last of your worries as your ear twitch to the familiar mechanical wizzing sound of what could only be a Tardis. Sweat instantly forms in your palms, your eyes dart around the streets, looking, watching, waiting for his arrival. You hate to admit that the panic holds yourself still, strapped to this very chair to witness the horror about to be unleashed yet all these humans appear none-the-wiser to their upcoming demise.

And when you think all those tears you shed were now buried away yet new ones burn your vision blurry as you grip the table in wait. What of the children, the families, the lives of them all? Your brain presses, kicking into hyperdrive, asking yourself if you are ready to die. But what will he do if he finds me? And your mind goes blank, incapable of thinking of what tortures you would endure.

So you present yourself human, plastering a fake smile, bright eyes as silent tears run rivers down your cheeks. Your breathing staggered just like your hearts, threatening to exit your body and make a life for themselves. It would be better to die, you convince yourself, the words echoing through your soul, it is better to die, die, die.

--

It feels like lifetimes move as you await his presence, eyes casting down the various alleyways, ears pointed for the sounds of agony and screams in his pleasure for universal domination. "He's killed millions," the Master's voice whispers into your ear with the breeze following by the sound of two beating hearts.

It was hard to miss the way your heart slowed, matching the breaths in between his own. His steps organized in the crowd surrounding him as a woman follows just behind his every step. His hair caught you first, its frazzled appearance as if he dragged his hands through the roots a few hundred times yet no stress coated his features, not a single wrinkle or crinkle besides a smile that has you loosening your grip on the table.

His direction leads him closer towards the coffee shop you sit in front of as a child runs across his front, stepping on one of his sneakers, an involuntary gasp escapes between your painted lips yet the Doctor takes no attention nor comment to them, simply continuing his way through the crowd. You hear his voice above all the afternoon commotion, his accent catching you off guard, "Say Donna, have you ever seen Paris or the South of France? I must say that this tower of theres is nothing in comparison to some of the future civilizations I've seen, I should, I will take you to one in the future or well, when we are done here."

The woman nods along to what he says, biting her lip, a knowing smile growing across her features as if she is cooking up a line to fire back, "Well the last time I was here was with you but we didn't really get to have a getaway besides running from those martians trying to KILL US! This is much better, oh!- did you see that woman's sandwich! How about lunch?"

Your eyes are wide as she tilts her head in your direction. You embody the appearance of a deer in headlights before swiftly unfolding the newspaper on the table, doing your best to read the various headlines with plausible interest.

The Doctor hums thoughtfully, looking to where Donna's eyes had landed, his eyes narrow in of the outrageously large paper that covers your face as he leans closer to Donna, "is that newspaper big, or is the woman just small?"

Donna laughs, knocking her shoulder with the Doctor as he shuffles back, head tipped down into a playful glare. "Well, spaceman. In comparison to you, anything appears larger than life."

"Do you want that sandwich or not?" The Doctor responds, eyes already bored and looking at the various other shops and people on the street, subconsciously looking for a threat to ruin the day.

"Well, yes-"

"Then lets get you that sandwich," and with that the Doctor is taking large strides up to your table. Curiosity brimming with excitement to uncover whoever was behind that paper. His heart rate began to climb, the walk now a light job as Donna wondered whatever has gotten into the Doctor.

--

You tense in preparation, saying your grievances underneath your breath as the man reaches forward, ripping the newspaper that had gradually been pressed closer to your face as he leaned closer to you. You pick up the book in your lap, spreading the pages wide open. Wincing once your fingers trace up the spine, finding a new crack upon its surface- that too is torn out of your hands.

In a childish effort- you close your eyes, hands racing across the tables surface before feeling the soft material of a serviette. Your plate clatters against the wooden table as you rip the cloth from underneath, waving it in the air to unfold it and subsequently into his face as he audibly complains. Swiftly opening your eyes, you look through the thin material, tracing over his blurry outline and hard-to-reach features while leaning back as far as your chair allows you too. Your feet hooking under the tables legs as only two chair legs hold you from toppling over.

The man huffs, his chair scraping against the pavement in a horrifying screech as your tableware clatters to the floor, bits and pieces of porcelain scraping across your leather shoes and socks. He peers over your napkin, eyebrow raised, brown-eyes peering to see your wide ones. You watch as his other eyebrow races to match the other, a small gasp escapes between his parting lips with fingers brushing against your own. He steals away the last of your cover, casting it aside to a nearby empty table.

The Doctor leans closer to listen to your hearts beating rapidly in your chest as he casts a hand down to feel his own. By the time he looks back up at you, a charming smile has one threatening to spread across your face but the Master's words make it fall the next moment as the Doctor gently clasps your hand between his own, taking the seat behind himself, pulling you forwards to sit level.

"Hello, darling," he whispers out, unsure if you are truly you as he awaits your answer. He squeezes your hand, ushering you to respond. You hate the way the pet-name makes you feel, the memories that flood your mind and all the time in between. A moment passes between you both before an approaching fiery-headed woman shifts your attention away from one another.

"DOCTOR? DOCTOR! What in the hells do you think you're doing?! Harassing this poor woman- oh I apologize dear, I have no idea what gotten into him today. I don't want that Sandwich in particular, just any sandwich!" Donna shouts out in the Doctors face. You wait for her to take him by the ear like a tired mom yet she smacks him on the back of his head as he drops your hand to ease the oncoming bruise.

With this distraction you quickly stand, throwing an unknown amount of currency on the table before darting down the crowded Paris streets. The Doctor curses underneath his breath lightly, "You don't understand, Donna!"

"What don't I understand? You going after some random human, is she a past companion or something?" Donna asks, eyes casting towards your empty seat that the Doctor glares at.

"Thats my wife!" The Doctor outbursts, grabbing your book and paper in hand before darting off after you, Donna running swiftly after the spaceman. "YOUR WHAT?!" Donna screams out between breaths.

"MY WIFE!"

"Don't you have five of those already?" She teases but the tone is peaked with genuine curiosity.

"Well yes- no. I don't know, they were the first!" The Doctor stumbles the words out, mind a fumbled mess at the sudden shock of you.

"The first, wait. Are they..." Donna's steps come to a halt as the Doctor casts his head back, steps slowing as they regain their breath, he hands your book and newspaper to Donna who holds onto the materials tightly. "...a time lord?"

"Yes..." the Doctor says in a remorseful tone. "....Yes, they are."

--

You lost where you last parked your Tardis as you turn down road after road, cars honking as you interrupt the traffic in your maddened dash. You keep your ears peaked for the two intruders to your centuries of peace. Your mind running a mile a minute for a plan that you assure yourself to be thinking of on the fly as you take another sharp turn, flying into someones arms.

They grip you still, smelling of aftershave and coffee with a dash of honey. You take in a deeper breath, curious to find the undertones before a chuckle has you pulling away, blinking rapidly as they hold onto your elbows and pull you into an empty shop under construction. You curse when seeing those familiar brown eyes, your hands drifting over the soft fabric of his jacket, feeling the small rips and seams before pulling away. Dusting your hands off on your pants, he moves his touch up to your shoulders, giving them a light shake.

"Why are you running, is there an emergency? A planet being overtaken, a universe about to explode?" He rattles off various answers for your selection yet you chose to remain silent. Ripping yourself away from his touch, you watch as his hands flex, itching to hold onto something, to someone, before he reaches into his jacket pocket as you do the same.

Two sonic screwdrivers are presented, shoving the glowing end into one another's presences. The door slams open and shut once more as Donna casts her arms wide and behind herself, blocking any potential escape. "Alright, lets gets things settled here, we don't need to me shoving our sonic screwdrivers at each other now!" Donna announces.

You wait for the Doctor to drop his first, eyes following as his hand open, his movements slow as he guides the technology back into his coat. He nods towards you, beckoning for you to do the same, your hands shake as you press it into your pant pocket for easier access. The Doctor raises a brow to this, looking back at Donna who's sights are set on you with pity.

The Doctor takes a step forwards, you shake your head, hands raised, your voice cracking, "You. Are. A. Monster! A Monster that has destroyed lives! You are in the midst of ruining another just now. If you would PLEASE just let me walk away I can promise you that I will do nothing- a personal moral of mine-"

The Doctors eyes gloss over, memories flash over himself. His arms feel heavy, shoulders slumping forwards as he remembers holding what he thought to be the second-to-last time lord in his arms, the Master as he died- unwilling to regenerate. "But here's the thing, I don't want to just 'let you walk away,' not with how I lost the last one- not when I am so close again to what could be," the Doctor pleads sincerity, his heart shattering at your words he knows a part to be true. But to hear them coming from who he surly believes to be you, it cuts him wounds him as you continuously step away from him as he nears.

The pain, the fear in your eyes, dictating your speech, he wishes to comfort you, hand raising to capture your outstretched one yet you quickly press your hands back into your chest. Right above your heart as it covering it for an attack. Donna sternly voices the Doctors name causing the man to pause in motion. Feet posed for another step, hand outstretched in a welcoming fashion, palm stretching outwards.

"Exactly. What COULD be. Couldn't have said it better myself, Doctor," you spit his name out, copying the Master's tone. "I'd say it even makes things easier on the both of us. Now please, let. me. go. Or better yet- kill me! Kill me right here, right now! I know you want to so just DO IT!" you scream out, words chocking on tears as you cough, hunching your form over. You feel so small, so hopeless as you look over to his companion, silently asking for her to convince him.

"No," the Doctor states firmly, hands now gripped into fists as he struggles to articulate his next words, looking over at Donna for support.

"Then I am sorry," you hush out softly before jumping up with all your strength as you cast a right hook across his nose. Blood pours over your knuckles as you fling your hand to remove the bodily fluid form your skin, making a mad dash towards the door.

You shout an apology to the human companion, having to shove 'Donna' you remember her name to be, out of the way and make your way back onto the streets. The Tardis had to be close, you think to yourself- the feeling in your gut starting to swell alongside your knuckles as you hissed through the pain, flinging yourself back towards your on-the-go home and pressing towards a random position. Pleading towards the console, anywhere but here, but now, with him- please.

--

"Wa-" The Doctor began to say before gripping his noise, casting his head upwards to try and stop the onslaught of blood. Tears cascaded down his features, creating a mess across his face as the liquids dropped down to his collard shirt and suit, staining the material for good.

Donna watched your escape through the window, you paid no mind to turn around, to take one last look no matter how hard your shoulders tensed or your neck tilted until you were out of sight. Shaking her head she walks over to the Doctor, reaching around in her pockets for a napkin as she presents the thin cloth to him.

The Doctor mumbles a thanks, beginning to wipe away at his face from his reflection in the glass. The air in the room is depleting as the Time Lord struggles to choke down air from the weight heaving in his chest. Donna rubs his back, watching as his back tenses before settling yet he refuses to look at her, only looking at the direction you fled in.

A few moments passes and the Doctor and Donna had yet to move form their positions, in a light tone, nervous to cut through the heavy silence too swiftly, Donna softly speaks, "You alright?"

The Doctor stands to full height, tissue dropping to the dirty floors beneath as he kicks away a loose bunch of screws. "I'm always alright." The Doctor nods- as if hyping himself up. He begins to make his way towards the door, looking back with a hand outstretched once more.

Donnas heartbreaks then and there as the spaceman smiles at her. She can see the pain in his eyes, the remnants of tears still in the corner of his eyes and the small sniffles he does his best to hide. She softly grasps his hand, giving it a squeeze. She listens to the breath he lets out shakily before leading them back out the door and in the opposite direction of you.

↳ A/N: what did you think? :)

[retroellie]

Have you thought about something to twisted games but reader reveals that noone has ever went down on her and darl wants to be the first and only one to do it?

Summary: Daryl is surprised to hear you had never been gone down on... He wants that changed immediately

A/N: I've been dead again I know, but y'all I'm in college now, and lemme tell you... I'm so tired of writing essays :( i needed a break from them and college life so have this :) also, the gif looks goofy as hell... it's the first time I've made a gif on my laptop lmao

Warnings: Cunnilingus, pussy-eating, fingering, some dirty talk

Word Count: 2.6K

It had been a lazy day today, at least as lazy as it could get in the apocalypse. You had woken up and helped out with gardening while Daryl went out on a small run with Michonne but then you had both met back at your shared home. You had come home first and you weren’t there long before you were in the shower. That’s where Daryl had caught you, he didn’t think you would mind if he joined you. It was an innocent shower. Surprisingly, Daryl helped wash your hair and he allowed you to wash his back gently as you didn’t want to hurt the scars lying there, as if they would hurt anymore.

The relationship was new, like 2 months. You guys were still finding things about each other, like his scars. You hadn’t known about his abusive childhood or the scars that reside on him, not everyone knew. You found out only a month ago when you guys first had sex, you had been underneath him, feeling him quite literally stretching you open. You had run your hands down his back and felt the raised scars, at first it didn’t register what had happened but you had suspicions. Then after, you were laying in bed watching him get dressed and that’s when you saw them.

You kept quiet about it, not wanting to upset him but you knew. So everything was just new to y’all, it was all so exciting and nerve-racking. After your shower, you both took a long much-needed nap. Daryl had his head buried in your chest as he literally laid on top of you. You loved how comfortable he had gotten with you, he was once cold towards you and would barely touch you or let you touch him. Now he was always on you and he always craved your touch.

When Daryl had woken up though he had gotten a little too needy, walking you up with kisses along your neck as he pressed his knee against your cunt. You had woken up pretty fast, the pleasure coursing through your body and making your body heat up. So now here y’all were, Daryl tongue fucking your mouth as you sleepily bucked your hips into his leg. It was pure heaven at that moment.

It all had been normal enough, nothing new simply because Daryl didn’t want to be too rough with you, especially after being so laid back all day but soon his kisses had trailed off down your neck. He made his way down your chest, then your stomach, then your thighs. You were quick to push him off, not trying to freak him out but you were confused as to why he had his face down there.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confusion reeked through your comment.

Daryl squinted his eyes at you, sitting back on his knees as he shared your confusion. He thought maybe you had been kidding or maybe you just didn’t want to do that right now, maybe you just wanted to dry hump him and then fall asleep once again.

“What does it look like I’m doing…” he chuckled, hands settling back on your thighs but he stayed sitting on his knees.

“I don’t know… that’s why I asked.” You threw back at him, it sounded mean but you were really just confused.

You hadn’t been with many people, you weren’t too experienced. Maybe 2 partners at least and one of them you only had sex once with. You didn’t know much about sex and honestly, Daryl taught you a lot within the month you guys had been going at it. He taught you how to position your mouth while giving a blow job so you don’t choke, how to roll your hips instead of bouncing yourself when riding someone, how to rub your clit teasingly while touching yourself because it makes you cum better and most importantly how to speak up in bed, demanding what you wanted and communicating that towards him. You knew what these things were, you just had to be taught it. But this… whatever Daryl was trying to do was new to you.

“Has no one ever gone down on ya before?” He asked, watching as your face contorted into more confusion as if that was possible. “Ya know, like ate you out?”

You shook your head, considering the fact you had never heard of these terms or had anyone face level with your cunt like Daryl had just done, you probably hadn’t. The thought made Daryl kind of upset, Daryl had remembered the first time you had openly admitted to having your first orgasm with him so he shouldn’t be surprised. In all honesty, he hasn’t been too big of a fan of your ex-boyfriend.

Daryl had met him, he was some college motherfucker who was still in his annoying “drunk college frat boy” era even at age 25. He was annoyed by him but so intrigued by you, he was intrigued by the fact you were with someone like that asshole. What upset him was how your ex-boyfriend used to fuck you, as creepy as it sounds, Daryl would listen to y’all. Not that he had much of a choice, you both had been neighbors to him in almost every location you had stayed in.

He could hear your fake pornographic moans as you pretended to cum, it was obvious but your boyfriend at the time only cared for himself. It was always the same position too, you had told Daryl this after y’all had gotten together. It was always super vanilla and you would never cum, ever. Daryl could tell your ex-boyfriend only cared for himself, in bed and out. That’s how he ended up dead in the first place, he ran off while you were stuck in a hoard only you had someone to save you… Daryl. He ended up getting caught by the hoard later on, but Daryl didn’t even think to go find him.

Daryl knew of your inexperience but this… this was simply unacceptable for him. The thought of you never getting eaten out, never having your pussy eaten out nice and right like you deserved, created a deep desire within him. He wanted to make you scream, wanted to edge you until you were begging to cum, he wanted to make sure his name was carved onto your tongue for the rest of your life but for now, on this lazy day, he was okay with just allowing you to slowly come undone on his tongue.

“Do ya trust me?” He asked, rubbing soft circles on your thighs as he spoke.

You did trust Daryl, with your entire life. It just made you nervous especially when you didn’t know what he was trying to do. There were so many things you didn’t know about yourself, your body was almost completely foreign to you so you weren’t sure what you liked quite yet. You did know you wanted Daryl to make you feel good and if he thought this was a way to do it, you would let him.

“Of course, I just don’t know what ‘going down on you’ means…” You stated, throwing up quotation marks with your hands as you quoted him. Daryl just chuckled, slightly pushing you down but it was more like he was guiding you to lay back down.

“If you stop talking and just let me show you…” he said, pecking your lips once more before he slowly once again kissed his way down your body. “Just trust me, that’s all I’m asking bunny… You know you can always just tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”

You let out a soft moan as he left soft love bites on your chest, leading them down to your core once more. You decided to just let him do what he needed, you knew if you ever felt uncomfortable Daryl would stop almost immediately. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, a bit embarrassed by his face being so close to your cunt, it felt more like a gynecologist visit than sex but you decided to let it get better.

Daryl trailed his kisses down to the inside of your thighs, kissing them one by one as he trailed higher and higher until his nose dug into your clothed pussy. He gasped as his nose hit your clit, swollen and soaked as he chuckled at your reaction. You threw your head back, biting your lip to hold back your moans, which honestly were quite embarrassing since he had yet to even touch you. Daryl sucked on the inside of your thigh, allowing you to feel his nose rub against you as he left a hickey.

He selfishly wanted to keep this moment going, wanted to tease you and see how even the littlest amount of touch made your toes curl. He decided to stop his teasing though because if he was honest, he felt eager to taste you. He kissed your love-bitten thighs once more before poking his head out from underneath you.

"Can I take these off?" He asked, hooking his finger underneath the band of your underwear.

You nodded your head, your eyes still on the ceiling as you were too embarrassed to look into his blue eyes. Daryl had noticed this, noticing your hands on your stomach as you scratched at it. In other words, Daryl could see you slowly going crazy at the feeling already.

"Hey, bunny..." He grinned, reaching up to grip your chin to look down at him. "It ain't gonna be fun if I can't see them pretty eyes..."

You managed to peel your eyes away from the ceiling and finally look at him as his hand rested on your chin. You smirked, murmuring a soft "sorry" as you watched him retract his hand and place it back on your thigh. He opened them slowly, as wide as you were comfortable with.

"Good girl... just stay like that for me hm..." He whispered out, his hot breath against your clothed cunt.

He smirked up at you, hooking his hand underneath your underwear before sliding them down your legs. He was soft with it, running his hand along your leg as he took them off so slowly you thought you were cum just then. You watched his every move with wide eyes, watching him get back into the position he was before. He could've warmed you up but he couldn't handle it anymore, so he dove in.

He was soft with it at first, and the kitten licked your clit as he rubbed up and down your slit. This action made you want to close your legs subconsciously, the action so sudden and quick your body tried to reject this foreign feeling. Daryl kept your thighs open though, one hand on your thigh as the other massaged your slit. You moaned softly, having a hard time making eye contact with him.

You knew right off the bat this was going to be a problem for you, you knew you would not be able to look at his lips or tongue the same anymore. You knew he would be kissing those lips more than he would your actual lips, but Daryl was completely okay with that. Daryl continued his soft actions until he felt you would go insane if he didn't speed up.

He slowly started licking up your slit, teasing your opening with his finger and sometimes sticking his tongue in just to hear the high-pitched moan you would make. Daryl made sure he didn't miss a single spot of your cunt, making sure he was licking up every single drip of you and allowing it to rest on his tongue as he tasted the sweetness of it. He couldn't explain how good you tasted to him, it was as though he was starving for so long and he finally got a taste of the sweet food he's been missing out on for his entire life. It was addictive.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You moaned out, your voice box already giving out as you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the sheets.

Daryl just smiled at your reaction and decided it was the perfect time to shove his 2 fingers in you. He knew you would not be able to last very long, and he was okay with that for now, obviously, he would definitely work your tolerance up to it soon enough but now he was okay with being your first. Daryl wanted to make sure you would never forget this moment like he did with anything when it came to pleasuring you. He wanted to make sure if a younger or more handsome dude came around, you would know who fucked you the best.

Daryl started a slow pattern on your clit, soft kisses followed by kitten licks and then sucking on it before he would slowly rub it with his thumb. It was a crazy pattern, very sporadic, but it was his way of trial and error, seeing which technique made your toes curl the most. So far, you seemed to really like when he sucked on it softly so he made sure to do that the most. He continued his abuse, feeling your walls close against his fingers as it became harder and harder to finger fuck you.

"Fu... dar... I'm... c...fuc..." You could literally not get a single word out of your mouth before a moan would hit you.

Your toes were curled, your mouth agape as you're back arched up until your head was thrown back into the pillows. Daryl started to push his fingers in and out of you at a medium speed, not wanting to overwhelm you too much, and his mouth began to suck softly on your clit. He could tell you were on the edge when your moans turned to screams, feeling your walls tighten even more.

The tight coil in your stomach finally snapped, cumming onto Daryl's fingers with a scream as you shook violently. Your thighs wanted to close around his head but Daryl kept them wide open. daryl fucked and sucked you through your orgasm, feeling your walls contract against his long fingers as you're juices flowed down them. You couldn't stop moving, you're squirming became unbearable and that's when Daryl decided to stop his movements.

He pulled his fingers out of you, stuffing them in his mouth. You watched him in amazement, a new sheet of arousal dripping from your swollen cunt. Daryl made his way back up to you, seeing how sweaty you had become. Daryl smiled down at you with his soaked face, holding himself above you. He popped his fingers out of his mouth before leaning down to kiss you.

You could taste yourself on his lips, it was almost nauseating as everything became too much for you. You ran a hand through his hair, pulling it slightly as you melted into the kiss. Daryl had to physically pull you away from him so you could breathe, he loved how needy you had become. You were so unsure of it at first and now you had fallen in love with it, fallen in love with him even more as he was the one who opened you up to it.

"You liked it huh?" He spoke, pushing some hair out of your face as it stuck to your sweaty forehead. You nodded aggressively, "liked" was an understatement. "Knew my bunny would... Do you need anything, hun?" He asked, slightly concerned at your rapid heartbeat.

You just bite your lip, pulling him into another kiss before pushing him down by his shoulders. He knew what you wanted, he knew you wanted him to go down on you again and he wasn't the one to turn that down.

"Needy little thing huh?" He chuckled as he kissed down your body once more.

"Less talking and more going down on me" You joked back, watching him place himself back in the position he once was in.

"don't gotta tell me twice darlin," He grinned up at you before diving back in. 

[melissatalks]

Hold me tighter

A/n: For this one, I did two requests (both being about comfort). I know I've been very inactive but I felt like writing :) BYE I STARTED WRITING THIS LIKE A MONTH OR TWO AGO I FINISHED THIS AT 1 AM SO DONT MIND THE SPELLING AND WRITING. PLEASE.

You're burnt out and need comfort :))

Y/n pov:

It was a Thursday night, I was coming back from work with so many emails to read and answer as a former assistant and so many essays to write as a student. Thursday was always the busiest day. The teachers would give more work so that students work hard even on the weekends and for some reason, customers reach out way more at the end of the week. I just wanted one day where I could be free. One day where I could just lay in bed holding my girlfriend all day. I couldn't even remember the last time we shared a meal. We were both very busy but it shouldn't keep us away like this. But truly, I shouldn't complain because it's simply my job.

Unfortunately, this day is only possible once I get my degree and once I can take days off again. I've always had issues with my stomach. Sometimes it would randomly start hurting. I've always been told "It's just stress" but it's still a pain in the ass to feel like you're being stabbed with every move you do and because of that, it leads to me having no more days off. I dreamt of the day I'd finally have an answer to how I can stop these cramps but it never arrived. So I would just miss an average of one day every week because I had difficulties even getting up. After that, there were also my horrible migraines that happened every two days. It was a living hell.

When I finally arrived home, I broke. I didn't think it would happen but it did. I sat in the corner of the kitchen crying for an hour until Billie arrived. I could see the shock on her face when she opened the door that led towards the kitchen and saw me curled up in a corner. I had never broken down in front of her. My immediate reaction was to try to stop crying but I couldn't. My vision was only getting blurrier from the stress of being this vulnerable with someone I love. I tried to explain myself from fear but nothing other than broken sobs came out of my throat.

"No need to talk sweetheart. I know." She whispered as she was kneeling to be at my height.

3rd pov:

Growing up in a place where you would get screamed after if you cried as someone sensitive had negative consequences on how you act and your trust towards the people you loved the most. One of those consequences being to push away some of your loved ones when they are just trying to help. But Billie knew that. She slowly got closer, with no physical touch at all, waiting for a signal that could indicate that you were comfortable with her getting closer. As time went by, she inched closer and closer, taking your hand in hers at a certain point which helped you calm down until you were calm enough and comfortable enough for her to be holding you. You stayed sitting on the floor in each other's arms for a little while just enjoying the comfort.

"Y/n?" Billie said softly, breaking the silence.

You only nodded, not finding the strength to even talk.

"Let's get you in bed okay? You're overworked baby and it kills me that you don't realize it. Gosh, can't stand seeing you this tired..." She said, this time with a more concerned tone in her voice.

She helped you get up, pulling you towards the bed. Once you got in, she joined spooning you.

"Are you comfortable..?" She whispered making sure you felt as good as possible.

"I'm so fucking sorry." You let out. "I feel like a burden Billie! I'm always the one who's late, the one finishing essays at crazy hours, I'm never there!" You exclaim, tears pricking at your eyes again, threatening to fall down on your cheeks.

"I'm holding you back Billie." You said, quietly this time.

"You know that's not true..." She answered. Her arms wrapped around your waist, holding you closer and tighter. "I love you y/n. More than anything. And if staying with you means waiting for you to finish university and get your degree then I will because I truly do love you. How about we talk about this tomorrow? I know you're tired." All you could do was let out a soft hum before falling asleep in her arms. Your girlfriend's arms. Holding you tighter and tighter than she ever did every single time.

A/n that's fucking crazy it is 12:50 am and I am tired and this ending is probably fucked

[soft-girl-musings]

Cry (MK Spring Bingo #1)

Marc Spector x Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: panic/anxiety attacks, possibly inaccurate description of an emergency room visit (i don't remember the exact process i borrowed from my own experience bc i was sick… in the ER…), no use of y/n

wc: 1,356

fic summary: Three times Marc told you it was okay to cry, and one time you returned the favor.

A/N: Finally got around to writing something for someone besides jake lockley, bless. once again this is self-indulgent, but if anything hits home for you i'm glad <3 (based on Adam Melchor's "Cry" , which is the most marc-coded piece of music i've ever heard. in this essay i will)

_____________________

The first time came out of nowhere.

Nothing was wrong per se; no major injury or crisis had come up. All you knew was that you were frozen in the corner of your room, hot tears streaming down your face as your mind raced between a million different things.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my–” Marc’s request stopped the moment he saw you frozen in the darkened room, gripping the sleeves of your shirt as you bit your lip so hard you risked giving yourself another reason to cry.

“I just need a minute,” your voice came out trembling and heavy, as if too many syllables would cause the tears to fall with greater force. Not that you knew how to stop them, or how they even started.

Quick strides across the room brought Marc to your side. His warm hands wrapped around yours, cold and losing color from digging into your arms. 

Words were never his strong suit; Marc’s a man of few, usually letting his presence and actions suffice. So when faced with consoling you against some invisible threat, he could almost hear the sound of his own heart breaking in tandem with your staggered breath.

So he stood there. Until your fingers relaxed and entwined with his, he stood there until he could guide you to the floor. Arms wrapped around your shoulders, he cradled you as you continued to cry.

“This is so stupid,” you groaned as you wiped your face with your sleeve. “So fucking… ugh.”

“Hey,” he shushed you. “Not stupid. You’re feeling what you’re feeling.”

“But I don’t know why,” you choked out. It was hard enough being so distraught; not having a valid reason for it made everything hurt more.

“You don't have to justify it. Don't have to do anything but just… be here.” A hand to your temple eased your head against his chest. “I'm here, as long as you need me to be.”

This was all the permission you needed to let another rush of tears spill down your cheeks, soaking his shirt. He didn't mind.

___________________

The second time was in the emergency room.

You'd never struggled to catch your breath like this before; a common cold turned south and triggered long-dormant childhood asthma, making your lungs betray the rest of your body. Marc drove you to the ER when your hollow coughing didn't let up for the third day in a row. Head spinning and chest aflame, you were rushed to the back as soon as Marc told them you couldn't breathe.

“You've got to breathe steady, honey.”

“I'm trying,” you muttered around the medicated tube in your mouth. It had to be almost 3 in the morning; your body ached like crazy and you didn't catch a word of what the nurse told you to do with your medication. All you knew was that you were cold, exhausted, and grateful to have Marc there to time your breathing.

But even with his hand holding yours, you still felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Every inhalation brought medicine to your airways, but the ragged sensation resonated through your chest and made your body ache more.

“I'm so tired,” you finally said around the device. With that, your tears fell faster than you could swipe at them. Your frown pushed the device from your mouth, but you didn't care.

Marc sprang up, catching the equipment when your grip faltered. He said nothing; instead, he climbed onto the bed with you, leaning your back against his chest and taking your hand in his once more, bringing the medication back to your lips. You let him bear your weight, immediate relief washing over you as he took over keeping the device steady with one hand and gently dabbing a tissue at your cheek with the other. 

“Nothing wrong with a few tears, honey. Means you’re alive.”

When you finally went home, the fire in your lungs extinguished, he held you again until you fell asleep.

_____________________

“.....The movie just started.”

(The third time was on the living room couch.)

You had finally talked Marc into watching La La Land with you (with the promise of his getting to choose the next movie night film, of course). You were barely 30 seconds into the opening number when you'd started crying, eyes glued to the screen as dozens of up-and-comers danced and sang about their dreams to make it in the industry.

“They haven't said anything.”

“They're saying everything.”

“He's dancing on a car.”

“Because he's excited!”

“Why did they stop traffic to dance?”

You didn't hear the rest of his quips, too engrossed in the scene. The colors, the music, and the highly impractical interstate  choreography had a way of getting to you ever since you first saw this movie. Meanwhile, Marc sat with his arms crossed and eyebrows knit together as he tried to follow along.

When you noticed his body language, you reached for the remote and paused the movie. “Do you… want to watch something else?”

Marc's face fell when he realized this new batch of tears wasn’t because of the movie, but because of him. The thought of making your cry hit like a punch to the gut.

He took the remote from you, moving closer to your side. “Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. I need your commentary if I'm gonna keep up.” He hit play and choked down every criticism as he saw your face light up, tears of joy brimming during the remaining 2 hours of the film.

The next morning, while making breakfast, you could have sworn you heard Marc humming Another Day of Sun under his breath.

_____________________

As you'd grown closer, you began to know Marc as your rock, your steady landing place when you had thoughts and feelings too big to deal with on your own. He never had to say much to be there for you. He kept you tethered and together, happy to be of service no matter how ugly your hardships felt. 

It was only a matter of time before you saw a crack in his foundation.

You got home late one night, a thunderstorm hot on your heels. You had shrugged off your coat and shoes, calling out to Marc to see if he was home. No response.

You checked each room diligently, until you found him sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Marc?” You asked softly, walking toward him. You knelt in front of him, and the sight of his face twisted into an unfamiliar expression, a steady stream of tears spilling from his reddened eyes, was more than you could bear.

The first time came out of nowhere.

“Can you give me your hands, Marc?” He complied, his breath short and his eyes fixed on the storm pelting the window with sheet after sheet of rain. His vision darted between drops of water and streaks of lightning. The room shook with the echoes of thunder as the worst of the storm hit.

“Hey,” you urged him. “Just be here. With me.” Your thumb traced his wrist as you tried to stay calm.  “Can you breathe with me, Marc?” You sat up on your knees. He nodded, slowly but surely matching the pace of your breath. 

You didn't know what was on his mind, only that it was racing. You couldn't tell what had him so worked up, only that his breath escaped him even as you counted to ten again, and again, unrelenting in your focus on him. You had no idea what made your rock, your anchor, cry like this.

Maybe he'd tell you later; maybe it'd remain a mystery. None of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was the rhythm of your breath as the rain let up; the way his tears drenched your sleeves when you dabbed at his flushed cheeks; the steady thrum of his heart as his body relaxed beside yours. All that mattered was how, with your chest pressed to his back as you lay on top of the bedspread, he let you hold him for a change.

_____________________

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added/taken off this wee tag list)

[lloromanic0]

hiiii! i love ur writing and i saw you wanted more bill girlssss so here i am! do u think you could write a bill smut in his dread era (so underrated omg) ? thx🩷🩷🩷

Love all my Bill girls.

(Thank you so much for the request & for liking my writing!! I actually really liked writing this one.)

SMUT MDNI

Lil summary: needy Bill has been craving you for days.

He’s so majestic omfg

You sat on the bed with your laptop on top of you, you had a long essay to hand in till the end of the week. Since you needed total concentration for it you told your boyfriend, Bill, you needed some alone time.You had been working on it for the past 5 hours, your sweet boyfriend would sometimes come inside the room quietly to hand you another water or bring you some snacks and you couldn’t be more grateful for him.

With all your university work, and his life as a lead singer you hadn’t been having much time for each other and that was really messing with Bill, he didn’t want to make you mad or bother you but all these nights he had to spend with a aching boner for you were driving him crazy.

After 20 minutes your boyfriend came inside the room but this time he just sat on the edge of the bed looking at you. At first you thought he just wanted to be close to you even if you weren’t doing anything together, but the way he kept looking at you felt like it was something else.

“Bill? What is it mein Fürst?“ you asked.

He looked down has he played with his fingers on his lap.

“I just…really miss you..” he replied with a sad voice, you thought he was so cute like that.

“I can take a break if you want.”

His eyes lit up, those beautiful brown eyes you adored so much.

“Come sit next to me.” He crawled on the bed and sat down. You placed your hand on his thigh.

“Tell me about what you’ve been doing lately, I’m very sorry we’re not spending a lot of time together my love.”

Bill talked about the plans he was making with the band, how the practice they he had yesterday went, how he wanted to take you to this new cafe he saw, you just loved hearing him talk about anything.

“But at night…it’s when I miss you the most Y/N…”

“Why is that Bill?” You knew exactly what he meant, you heard him at night trying to get off quietly next to you, but his little moans betrayed him.

“I miss your touch and your body on mine..” oh god how cute was he so needy for you. You rubbed his thigh moving to the inner part. His already hard cock begging for you but a hand job wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him he needed more.

“Baby…let me fuck you please..” he never asks for it you usually just take the lead and he does whatever you want, he must be really desperate.

You just smile at him and lay on the bed.

“I’m all yours Billy.”

He gets on top of you, you could see his hard cock poke through his sweatpants as he lowers them to free his aching erection. He takes your shorts off along with your panties, he felt like your pussy was calling for him, he needed to be buried deep inside of you.

Using his hands he spread your folds rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit, his whimpers filling the room as you admired your beautiful boyfriend pleasuring you.

Just the rubbing of his cock on your pussy was enough to drive him crazy but he craved the feeling of being inside your warm hole.

He slowly and gently insert himself in you, making you get used to his cock, no matter how many times you had sex with him getting used to his huge length always took a little bit of time. After rocking his hips slowly for a few minutes, he picked up his pace in desperation, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, you hugged him tight making him feel safe in your embrace, as he kept fucking you passionately. This moment being what he had wished for the most this past weeks, being inside you having your touch for him, you paying full attention to him was all he needed.

“Am I- making you feel good Y/N?” He questioned, he loved hearing you reassure him.

“So good~ you’re being so good for me Bill…mhhm keep going just like that-“ You praised him.

Your kind words were all he needed to get sent over the edge, now slapping his hips deep into you in a way to reach the orgasm he so desperately needed, his thumb now rubbing your clit to help you reach your orgasm with him.

“Cum with me mhhmn- please Y/N.”

“I’ll cum with you baby~ aahh just- keep going for me.”

His hips now getting week and his legs trembling as he kept getting closer to his release, your moans now louder and more frequent,in a few seconds you came all over his dick, coating it in your wet juices, the erotic sight made Bill cum with a few more strokes, his thick seed coating your insides as he kept slowly moving his hips riding his orgasm and also making you enjoy yours a little longer.

As he slowly pulled out,his huge load he had been keeping inside him all these days, slightly dripped out of your hole,with his finger he pushed his cum back into you making you exhale sharply.

“Thank you for this meine Liebling.“ he kissed you once more “I really missed you…”

“I missed you to meine Schatz. Ich liebe dich.“ you replied smiling at him.

“Ich liebe dich mehr…“ he shyly replied.

[azrakaban]

Distractions - Blaise Zabini

A/N: Hiii! I'm not dead, as it turn out, just procrastinating and forgetting things because yk.. stress. Anyway, lil life update, I've reshuffled my life entirely, and had a lot of both boy and girl drama happen so literally my mind is all over the place! My grades are doing great though which is shocking given that I've been zoning out thinking of potential plotlines sm... I've been thinking of writing another fic, possibly a marvel one? Lemme know if that's something ya'll want to see <333

Request by ilovegilmoregurlsss , sorry it took so long lovely xx

Summary: Blaise realises that endless pining isn't going to get you to go out with him. More of a lil drabble then entire oneshot, but I'm sleep deprived and babysitting my brother so suck it up buttercups <3

Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, bad spelling, idiots in love <3333

...

"Mars' moons are Phobos and Deimos, not Ganymede and Callisto. Those two are Jupiters." Blaise says, a little bluntly, peering over your work with a tired smile. You rolled your eyes and crossed them out, him looking slightly apologetic. 

"I'm sorry. I can't remember a thing, Blaise. There's so many distractions!" You gestured around the entirely distraction free library, groaning before looking down at the parchment, which wasn't filling with words magically, much to your disappointment.

"Come on yn. You can do this. You only need twenty more words and then you're done.The bare minimum, complete in a mere..." He checked his watch and frowned. "Three hours? For a two thousand word essay? Merlin we've been here too long..." He trailed off, looking down at you. You had completely passed out on his shoulder, head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. 

He exhaled slowly, trying not to disturb you. Had it been anyone else, he might have pushed them away, or been uncomfortable but... it was you. It felt comforting, warm... and just right. And that scared him even more than having a stranger fall asleep on him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eyes flickering from the snow falling outside the castle, to your sleeping form on his shoulder. Around midnight, Draco and Lorenzo came looking for him, finding him perfectly content with you. 

The two of them walked forwards, opening their mouths to speak before Blaise fixed them both with a glare and waved them away, indicating your current state. They caught on quickly, both side-eyeing each other and smirking at him. 

Lorenzo made a motion like stringing a bow, and then firing it, as Draco clutched at his heart, mocking being hit and falling to the floor. He then kneeled infront of Enzo, practically making heart eyes in his state of drama. 

Blaise rolled his eyes and repeated his shooing motion, watching them walk away before sighing. He knew he had to move you - it couldn't be comfortable, sleeping upright. He almost felt guilty for keeping you there for so long. He looked down at your parchment and sighed. So close. 

Gently, so as not to wake you, he leaned forward and finished off your essay, careful to mimick your handwriting. 

You stirred for a second, before wriggling into a more comfortable position. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. Now the hard part. Getting you to bed without waking you up. 

He gently shifted his position, letting your head fall onto his chest, He slipped his arm under your knees, and the other around your back, carrying you bridal style. You took kindly to this change in position, smiling softly in your sleep. Blaise smiled down at you, then caught himself and frowned. Smiling? At you? 

Sure, you were his best friend, and he treasured you, but that didn't mean he wanted more did it? Surely not. That just didn't make sense. You were his best friend. His funny, amazing, creative, quirky, gorgeous, beautiful best frie- oh fuck. 

Blaise groaned out loud at the realisation, first at how blindingly obvious it had been, and then second in intense worry. Was he feeling attraction, just pure teenage feelings? Maybe. But then he remembered. He knew everything about you. He noticed every little thing about you. He stored these little tidbits of information away, but why? For when? People didn't do that if all they felt was attraction to someone. He remembered you telling him that earlier in the year, when the two of you had been silently shipping Astoria and Theodore. 

You had organised a 'stake out' of Astoria and Theodore's third date, as Astoria had requested, and naturally, that meant he was coming too. He didn't remember how that date had gone. All he remembered was watching your face as you smiled, your eyes shining slightly as you watched your friend be happy.

He'd been watching you subconsiously for months now... how had it not occured to him? He loved you. But oh Godric, did you love him? Did you feel an ounce of what he felt for you? No, you couldn't that simply wasn't a possibility. And yet...

Who did you ask for help when you needed it? Him. Who's house did you stay at each summer? Granted, his mother loved you, and you loved her, but still! His house. Who did you go with to the yule ball? Him. And it hadn't been for lack of a date, quite a few boys had asked you. He remembered the discomfort he'd brushed aside when they each asked. But, in the end... you'd gone with him. 

Maybe there was a slight chance. Just maybe. Unless he'd been imagining the way you'd looked at his lips a second too long during the ball. Wait...

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sack-?" Blaise said out liud, stopping in his tracks. He quickly went silent, realising he'd spoken aloud. He looked down to find you still sound asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had a feeling. Just a feeling, that you might feel the same. And he hoped that he wasn't wrong. 

(time skip to the next morning)

YOUR POV:

You walked into the great hall, and were quickly accosted by your favourite person in the world, Cormac McLaggen. Yippee. 

"y/n! Lovely weather isn't it? Those Cumulonimbus clouyds looking fabulous." He said with a smirk, trying to meet your eyes. 

You stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him, giving a fake smile. "You're talking about Cumulonimbus clouds , Cormac, when I'm surprised you can tell your left from your right." You looked down at his hands and sighed. He had left and right tattooed on them. You disguised a laugh as a cough. 

"What do you actually want?" You continued, biting your lip to keep from laughing. You noticed Blaise watching you from the Slytherin table, and made a mental note to go and join him in a minute.

"A chance. Look, I know that you Slytherins lost the Quidditch match, but I'm willing to put that aside and not bring it up so that you can feel better. I mean, it's not like I was surprised, you're a good chaser but just nowhere near my own skill level. Although I've only played against you once, I'll assume that it was your time of the month that made you play so badly." He bragged, puffing out his chest like an overconfident pigeon. 

"The Lion The Witch and The Audacity Of This Bitch..." You said under your breath. 

"Sorry what was that?" Cormac said, zoning back into your conversation. 

"I said I was surprised we could even see the hoops, given that your ego is so big if it was solid it would cover everything in a two mile radius. Gryffindor only won because Potter is a good seeker and you have awesome Chasers." You were stood next to the Gryffindor table, and Ginny looked up at you with a smile, mouthing 'thank you. Sorry about him.' 

You laughed and turned back to Cormac. "Anyway, McLaggen, you're not even Gryffindor chaser! Ron beat you! If it hadn't been for his injury, you wouldn't be playing. So why don't you just pack your ego into a trunk and mail it off to someone who thinks it's endearing that you won't brag over one win?" You retorted. Ginny  and a few of her friends clapped you for a second before turning back to their food, one of them cough-yelling 'misogynist' at McLaggen. You looked back over at the Slyyherin table and noticed Blaise was gone. huh.

McLaggen didn't have a reply for that, just looking infuriated. "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I won't ask you out in future. You burst into mock tears, overdramatically pretending to cry. Cho turned around and stood up, pretending to console you. 

"There there y/n, it's okay, it's not your fault his ego is choking you alive..." She said soothingly, laughing at the expression on his face. A few other girls joined in, pretending to be overcome by McLaggen's 'manly charm'. It went on for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall told you all to settle down, but there was a fiant smile on her face. 

You sigh, looking upset as you meet his eyes. "You have the confidence of a much taller man, Cormac."

You fake sobbed one last time before hugging Cho and heading back over to the Slytherin table to sit with Pansy, leaving a speechless McLaggen far behind you. 

Pansy smiled and pulled you down onto the bench, looking around to make sure that none of the Slytherin boys were listening to your conversation before taking your hands in hers and stating quite plainly "Blaise likes you." 

You blinked a few times, processing her words before... "WHAT?" 

Pansy laughed and Astoria leaned in. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Earlier, he wasn't listening to Draco at all, he was just watching you with McLaggen."

"Maybe he thought McLaggen was harrassing me!" You protested, trying to ignore the rising hope in the back of your mind.

"Sureeeee. Because when you think someone's harrassing your best friend you always say 'Do you think he's asking her out? What if she says yes? I don't care if she says yes, it's up to her, it's just... McLaggen is a dick, isn't he? Not just me who thinks that?'" Astoria imitates Blaise, giggling with Pansy.

You roll your eyes at the two of them, but decide to check on Blaise, to see if he's okay.

...

You had spent almost an hour looking for Blaise now. Thank god for Saturdays right? And finally found him. You could have sworn you'd checked his dorm, but maybe he'd moved. He was sat on his bed, looking at something.

You crept up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and startling him, causing him to shove whatever he was holding underneath his pillow.

He looked up, seeing it was you and exhaled slowly, before resuming a glare.

"What ya looking at?" you say gently, aware you scared him.

"Doesn't matter to you. Why don't you go get ready for your date with McLaggen?" He spits out, shuffling away from you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You heard me. I'm sure you two will get together, and live happily ever after and raise world champion quidditch players. Look, I'm happy for you, yn, just leave me alone okay?" He says, clearly rambling.

You frown. "I'm not going out with McLaggen. After you left the girls and I cussed him out pretty thoroughly. Told him he that the confidence of a much taller man. He didn't like that." you laugh softly to yourself as Blaise turns around, attempting to form normal words but just making weird shapes with his mouth.

You laugh and put a hand under his chin, closing his mouth. "You thought I was going to go out with him?"

Blaise grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand away from his jaw. "Looked like you wanted to to me." He didn't drop your wrist, surprisingly.

"Nuh uh. Got someone else on my mind." You say, shrugging.

He stiffens. "Who's that?" He asks, deadpan expression on his face.

You sigh. "Blaise, for a smart guy, sometimes you're incredibly dense."

You lean forward and kiss him, pulling back after a second to gauge his reaction.

Again, he's more frozen than Hermione in second year. Then, slowly, he reacts. He pulls you close by your wrist, letting your lips fall onto his again as he kisses you, holding you close. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Now I know why you've been failing charms." He says with a smirk.

You poke your tongue out at him. "Not my fault you're distracting."

He laughs. "So many distractions yn... and yet I was your favourite one."

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "You'll always be my favourite distraction."

...

A/N: SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I've had no inspo, but finally once I'm sleep deprived I can write. *sigh* Sorry it's so late, enjoy my first Blaise one shot <3

[sky-kiss]

Raphael x Tav: Coffee Shop AU Pt. 2

A/N: Continuing from this, because someone wanted Raphael's POV and I wanted to goof off instead of writing serious things.

______

She’s a Barista. How Did it Come to This?

______

As a professor of the English language and literature on the whole, Raphael has no small amount of experience when it comes to divining an author’s intent and reading subtext. Years of honing these talents allow him to translate Haarlep’s intended message: ask the barista out. 

What he actually says is, “It’s been seven months, old man, is this a joke? Skip dinner and fuck the poor thing sideways.” Which is uncouth, uncivil, and utterly par for the course for the younger man. 

“Why are you here?”

Haarlep shrugs. He’s currently sprawled out across the only sofa in the teacher’s lounge, both monopolizing the space and looking too cramped on the loveseat. Korilla rolls her eyes, leaning over his feet to pluck another paper from the pile. The University has afforded him two assistants this semester. Only one is pulling their weight. But Haarlep’s is not without use. Between himself and his assistant, he has never seen: 

Such positive class reviews. 

So many female students with a vested interest in classical literature. 

It’s frankly uncanny. 

“You’d be happier for taking my advice.” 

“Not everyone is playing ‘catch the venereal' disease, Haarlep,” Korilla mutters. Haarlep shoots her a look. Something unspoken passes between them. In the absence of words (and Korilla’s repentance), Haarlep digs their heel into her thigh before sitting up. 

“Oh, take me with you. One evening, Raphael. That's all I need. And you and your sweet barista will be happy little lambs.” 

“Aren’t you busy?” Raphael eyes the essays. 

Haarlep waves him off. “Unimportant. I hate to see you so solemn, dear. Please.” 

And unfortunately, there’s no denying Haarlep anything once they’re in full flow. Gods save them all. 

_________

Fifteen minutes into the drive, he insists on silence. Raphael is always one for a good discussion, but Haarlep is a peculiar breed. He whiplashes from topic to topic with an alacrity most find disorienting and asserts opinions so occasionally outlandish that Raphael wonders if he believes them. The smirk says he doesn’t; half of what they do is for their amusement, the little shit. 

“You must like her,” Haarlep mutters. “The cafe might as well be in a different city.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. We’re half an hour from campus.” 

“Mmm.” 

He doesn’t like that sound one bit. Or the look his assistant is giving him. Raphael grumbles, motioning for the younger man to go ahead of him. The bell on the door chimes when they step inside, and he’s overcome with that feeling of peace.

Tav’s shop smells equal parts coffee shop and bookstore, the slightly spicy scent of old paper lingering on the air. He associates the smell with snowy mornings spent indoors, curled beneath his covers, safe and comfortable. There are seating areas and tables, yes, indicative of any metropolitan cafe. It’s the books he fell in love with. Shelves and shelves of books, of all genres and ages. You were as likely to find a history of naval battles as you were an airport bestseller or romance. 

Haarlep pulls a face. “It smells like a library.” 

“That will be the books, you troglodyte.” 

They accept the gibe gamely enough, stuffing their hands in their pockets. Haarlep scans the place with their frankly unsettling, at times preternatural, gaze, weighing every barista. They linger on Tav. “That one?” 

“How…” 

“Raphael, you are aware of what attraction looks like, yes? Do you have some cursory awareness? That girl looked at you with the stupidest doe-eyes when you walked in. It made me a little upset. Or nauseous.” He waved a hand. “Hard to say which.” 

“Your dramatics are noted, Haarlep. Find a book. I’ll order for us.” 

“Oh, good. More reading.” 

He is very aware of Haarlep’s eyes on him as he approaches the counter. It pales in comparison to the roiling feeling in his gut. The voice in his head (sounding too much like his father) screams every time he gets close. She’s too young; they’re from different worlds. She won’t look at him. If she’s polite, it’s because she’s paid to be polite, Raphael. Tav smiles at him; the expression lights up the entirety of her face. He thinks, in that moment, that she is one of the most singularly lovely creatures he’s seen. 

“Raphael!” She uses his name. Tav leans forward on the counter, beckoning him nearer. Her little friends behind the counter share a look among themselves, snickering. “I took your advice.” She points to a shelf on the left side of the store. He recognizes the book: one of his recommendations. “You were right. I couldn’t put it down. I figured others might enjoy it too. If you have any more suggestions…” 

“Of course. Of course! It’s…very nearly my profession!” 

“Isn’t that your profession?” 

He smirks, dipping into a half bow. “Among other things. You’ll find me a font of philosophy and tired rhetoric. Should it ever strike your fancy.” 

“Mmm. You do know how to sweet talk a girl.”

He thinks he hears Haarlep groan from across the cafe. Tav is looking at him, and the weight of that stare leaves him parched or hungry. Raphael clears his throat. “May I ask how you found the ending?” 

“Why doesn’t she explain it to you,” Shadowheart says, sliding a coffee to him. “Over dinner? Say six?” 

Haarlep winds an arm around his waist, resting their chin on his shoulder. “Six is perfect, my beauty. He can’t wait. Italian?” 

“Her absolute favorite. Passatempo?” 

Haarlep reaches out to shake the she-elf’s hand. “He’s never been. But he’s so eager to try.” 

It is, perhaps, the most surreal way he’s ever gotten a date. Tav stares at him in sputtering horror, her face a vibrant red. Raphael saves her, writing his number on one of the cafe’s business cards. He hands it to her. “My number. I look forward to our…” 

“...date.” She finishes, so conclusively, so resolutely, that he laughs. 

“Yes. Of course.” 

[chunniwritesalot]

home - nh27

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! welcome to my 3rd haas related fanfic 😍😍 i think i should be named the nh27 queen by the amount of ff i'm writing about him (not that im complaining... i want to eat this guy...) if you dont follow me, or check my rambles (go follow me PLEASE... im a desperate gal) you wouldn't know that im going to vacation so i wanted to write something super quick before i left. when i get back- TRUST an smau WILL be made, probably for nico because this man is so beautiful 🤗😋 the writing on this is super rushed but i've been out of practice (uni is starting soon PLEASE SEND HELP) because i major in english and BRO i write so many essays that when i get to break i just stop writing all together. my creative writing is SAUR shit because all i write are analysis's and shit like that BUTTTTT im taking a lot of creative writing courses this year (2) so watch out because i might become Shakespeare cw: sad, cursing, you have a son but your gender isn't included, mentions of crashing (obviously, its about the monaco grand prix), mentions of hate, banner is mine but photos aren't, use of yn, bad writing style

other: y/s/n means your son's name! I DIDN'T EDIT THIS SHIT SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES. MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN IM BEGGING YOU REQUEST wc: 682

you didn't watch f1 races because of your love for the sport. in reality, you hated the sport. the loudness, the chaos, the danger. you thought that maybe nico would've finally listened to you, he would retire and you two could finally live... peacefully, that you could live your life not fearing the fact that the love of your life could quite literally die almost every week. you watched those stupid fucking races because nico was your husband, and you would never forgive yourself if you weren't watching and something unspeakable happened. so nico promised you that he would always come home to you, and he would never break that promise.

sometimes you wished you never got involved in this stupid sport, because then maybe you wouldn't find yourself sitting in the haas garage with your 3 year old being restrained in your grip as you watch the screen. everything going in slow motion as the two haas cars and the redbull collide in with eachother. was it bad to say you hoped most of the damage went to kevin or checo? you didn't care, f1 made everyone a bad person. you were sure louise, who was glued right next to you, thought the same thing- that most of the damage went to nico or checo. "shit" you muttered, your son looking up at you. he was too young to know what was happening, but you could tell he was worried.

"its okay love, just an accident." you whispered to him, he wriggled out of your grip to go run around the garage. not that you cared, right now, you were focused on nico and lord, were you fucking mad. mad that he broke his promise to you, mad that he never listened, mad at this fucking sport. you hated nico for this, hated that he sacrificed his entire life to this sport, when he knew that he had a 3-year-old son. when he knew you were waiting for him, and you would never forgive him if he didn't come back. you sat there, arms crossed as nico made his way back to the haas area after getting checked with the medics. you watched as he approached you, a flash of guilt on his face. louise seemed to get the message because she quickly got up from the seat next to you and made her way over to the children as she waited for her own husband. "y/n, i'm sorry." nico cracked out quietly, reaching out his hand to take yours. he grimaced when you snapped your hand away and stiffened at his words. "what if you died?" you spat out, "god nico, i-" tears burned in your eyes, "i hate you." nico watched as you stormed to the bathroom, not bothering to follow you. he knew you needed time to cool off. after a while, you came back, sitting next to your husband again. "even y/s/n was fucking worried." you whispered to him, "nico, you-." nico stayed silent, his gaze never tearing from the TV infront of them, he nodded slowly. "i was thinking about you the entire time." he started, "and i'm *sorry*, i'm so fucking sorry." he slowly turned to you, "i-i would never forgive myself if something happened to me, love. i-" he stopped, reaching out to wipe your tears, "i'm... i know you hate this sport, but- its my..." you shook your head, motioning for him to stop. sure, you hated this sport, but you didn't hate nico. you loved nico, and loving him meant you would always be there with him. even if that meant you had to watch all his stupid grands prix. because as much as you knew nico loved his sport, he loved you more, and nico promised he would always come home to you and y/s/n.

"i..i don't hate you" you said back gently, "i'm sorry." nico cracked a smile, "i know, my love. don't be sorry." he reached out again, and this time? you didn't pull away, because nico kept his promise. he was always going to come home to you.