#that took a while. but it was a blast. i have a LOT to say about this man

[rnelodyy]

"Deadlier" in this context doesn't mean "more PCs will actually literally die", it just means "harder". As someone who has been playing D&D weekly for the last 3 years, I don't think that "deadlier" is a good metric by which to judge campaign difficulty. 5e is pretty forgiving when it comes to death (like, unless someone stabs you while you're unconscious, you have to go at least 2 entire rounds without being healed to actually die even with the worst possible dice luck), so preventing deaths is actually pretty easy.

Vox Machina died so much because a) the players were less experienced, and b) they usually didn't have their main healer on hand. Pike was gone for large parts of the campaign, so that left Vex and Scanlan as the only two people with healing spells, except Scanlan only had Healing Word and needed his bonus action for Inspiring people, and Vex was a half-caster who only had Cure Wounds. Especially at higher levels, it's very important to have at least one person in the party who can heal multiple people at once, and without Pike, VM didn't have that. Pike's priority was also usually dealing damage, so she usually wouldn't start healing until someone was down.

For the Mighty Nein, the only deaths that weren't directly caused by Lucien in final boss mode or Fjord being blatantly targeted by Uk'otoa's servants were because of plain carelessness. Molly died because he used a Blood Hunter ability at low health and knocked himself out in front of Lorenzo, Nott shot an explosive arrow without realizing Caduceus was in the blast radius with two failed death saves, and she later opened a chest without checking and triggered a Power Word: Kill trap. The Nein were much better equipped to deal with people going down, since they had a mainline healer who didn't care much about dealing damage, and if Cad ever went down, Jester, Yasha, and later Fjord could also heal.

Bell's Hells didn't go down or die as much because frankly, they had better combat strategies. The melee guys (especially Orym and Ashton) were very good at distracting enemies and taking the hits for the squishies in the back, who could then deal massive amounts of damage. There was also never a point where the Hells were without a mainline support/healer (Dorian took that role after FCG died, and in fact spent most of his combat actions in C3E120 on keeping people alive). That's not to say nobody in BH ever died stupidly (cough Ashton), just that they, as a whole, were more careful.

So what makes C3 a harder campaign? Well, you know how the M9 campaign was like a year long in-universe while BH lasted maybe 3 months beginning to end? That's because BH never got to fucking rest. There are days in the BH campaign that take place over the course of five or six episodes, and most of the time they were fucking WIPED by the time they could get a long rest in.

To get some perspective: I'd say Predathos was about on par with Cognouza!Lucien difficulty-wise (both had two boss phases, Predathos could do a lot more damage and had more health, but he also had Thunder vulnerability, which multiple of the Hells could exploit. Lucien couldn't deal or take as much damage but he had a fuck-ton of legendary actions, an anti-magic cone, and the Eyes of the Somnovem were only vulnerable to Psychic damage, which none of the Nein had). The Hells and the Nein were also both going into the fight at level 15.

The Nein went into the fight against Lucien fully rested thanks to Essek and Caleb firing off a dunamancy thing that gave them a free long rest. They also got the chance to eat a Heroes' Feast before the fight kicked off, meaning they went in at full health and full spell slots with some extra buffs on top.

The Hells went into the fight against Predathos after traveling to Kreviris, fighting a bunch of Vanguard goons, AND fighting Ludinus, and while they also got a Heroes' Feast, only a few of them got to have a short rest before going into the Predathos fight. Most of them were down on health, the casters were low on spell slots, and Ashton had to make his last Rage charge last through three fucking combats. The fact that they survived at all is down mostly to good strategy, some major god buffs (the Matron leveling them up to 17 and the Arch Heart letting Imogen cast Meteor Swarm), Dorian pumping them full of healing spells every turn, and some EXTREMELY risky plays that could have backfired horribly on them if they hadn't been as lucky as they were (Ashton diving into Predathos's mouth to get KO'd Imogen, Laudna firing Disintegrate into Ashton's hammer despite the risk of her pulverizing Ashton, Imogen casting Meteor Swarm despite the risk of hitting herself with it).

(It's also worth noting that Lucien had an easier time killing the Nein because he had six relatively light melee attacks as opposed to Predathos's single massive hits. This made it very easy for Lucien to knock out and then kill Jester and Caleb within a single round, whereas Predathos would have been better off focusing its massive attacks on the party members who were still running around and causing trouble and not the ones who were knocked out on the floor).

The Hells have also generally been fighting tougher enemies (like, C3E18 had BH at level 5 against a creature with legendary actions as a random encounter), but the difficulty has mostly come from the amount of resource management needed to keep themselves alive. Otohan was an outlier in terms of difficulty, but even disregarding her, BH has been fighting tougher battles with few chances to recuperate inbetween.

"Pulpier and deadlier" Is a wild promise to make for a campaign that ended up having the least combat deaths of any campaign. All of which being caused by the same enemy. That doesn't read as deadlier to me, that reads as one enemy being an outlier. It gets even worse when you address the use of deadlier to mean deadlier than previous campaigns, given how Bell's Hells are easily the weakest party of the 3 main campaigns. So the "pulpier and deadlier" campaign, with a party that is significantly weaker level by level compared to previous campaigns, ends up being less deadlier than those previous campaigns? It feels like a lack of follow through to me.

[universalrainbow]

In the "main" toy player timeline, was Poppy ever around when Player was at safe haven? And does she still end up locked in a case?

I can imagine the surprise (and probably relief) from the haven toys if they find her when they leave. And Poppy gets a surprise of her own, her old friends are all here and they're saying the Prototype is gone? It sounds too good to be true. It feels like she's dreaming.

There's feels to be had, some good and some bad, but everyone's focused on the future. They'll figure it all out when they leave that place behind.

Yes poppy was in the case.

Toy player scouting ahead of the group, found poppy in her case.

Poppy never met toy player so was understandably horrified of them. They didn't speak, had no real facial features, and looked like a feral toy because of the damage done to them. They also were the biggest toy she had ever seen. When toy player was trying to open their case. Poppy screams. Thinking she will die.

This is when dog day runs in. Only to find poppy in players hands. Both now looking at him in confusion and relief on Poppy's part.

"angel you found poppy!"

Poppy blankly looks back and forth between the two super confused. Toy player hands poppy over to dog day. And continues forward searching for any danger or survivors.

"dog day who was that!?" Poppy screeches at the dog.

He winces " we don't really know, they go by many nicknames and use to be an employee but that's pretty much it. They have been with us since you disappeared."

"An employee!!!! They could be working with the prototype!" Poppy bristles.

" hard to work with him when they are the one to kill him." He deadpans " also they have done a lot for us. Heck they even tried to feed the younger toys their severed limbs. Also they only worked on the first floor. So they had no idea until they got experimented on too."

Poppy stares at where toy player left. Not registering the other toys peaking into the room.

" he...is he really"

"YEA!" The two flinch and turn to a mini hoppy " they took him down! And came back with their arm and leg missing!"

Doey slinks his head through the door looking exasperated " you have no idea how self sacrificial they are. They once took a frozen blast for me. I had to fight tooth and nail just so they would get their wounds looked at." He lets out a heavy sigh.

" honestly that's not the worst they have done to themselves" dog day grimacing from a memory.

"anyway we should probably go so we don't loose track of them, they tend to get lost when left alone for to long." Doey points to the opposite door.

Dog day simply nods and enters the room toy player went through. Then slowly looks up to see toy player climbing the wall. Their grabpack hands shot out to a ledge up above. Slowly lifting them up towards an unknown. Dog day simply sighs a long suffering sigh.

While poppy wonders just who toy player was before their untimely reincarnation.

[violetjedisylveon]

Grinning Shadow AU, when Emperor Azure Lion sacrifices himself to save the universe... Macaque immediately stops moving, much like a puppet whose strings had been cut, he just stands there staring blankly with that mindless smile...

How would Wukong + MK react to Brainwashed Macaque standing still like that?

Would they tearfully give the Brainwashed Macaque a hug?

When Nezha gives Macaque back his mind, Macaque would suddenly gasp loudly for air, like Macaque hasn't breathed in a super long time!

How would Wukong + MK react to Macaque giving them a smaller + true smile, when Macaque sees them both? =')

It would be incredibly disturbing to see Macaque like that, any illusion of life or free will gone from him. He's already pretty uncomfortable to look at when he can move, this just ups the discomfort.

The idea of MK or Wukong trying to reach him while he's in this state is deliciously angsty.

MK would be in his monkey form at the time and monkey brain says "parent is here, chirp for parent's attention", so he's uncontrollably chirping for Macaque to answer him, he doesn't know why he's doing it, just that it's supposed to work, so why won't he respond?

Wukong however knows exactly what kind of chirp MK is making, he knows a cub crying for it's parent when he hears one, and he knows that call isn't for him. He steps in to protect MK and Macaque from the Jade Emperor's power, and he's there to catch Macaque when Nezha releases him.

He gasps like someone who was drowning and collapses when the connection is severed, it's a lot to suddenly be slammed back into awareness and free will of your body and mind, not to mention his ears hearing range is back at full blast (Wukong puts a dampening seal on it for him like the good husband he is).

He needs a second before he can even open his eyes. He does immediately recognize the scent of his mate and feels safe for the first time in centuries.

The moment he lays eyes on his mate, his adorable little smile, you know the one, is back and he's so happy to see his mate again.

When he sees MK he's immediately pulled towards him, he doesn't know why but monkey brain is screaming that kid is his, and he's not in the shape to argue, eagerly embracing the young monkey.

The monkeys happily reunite, unaware of the angry, envious eyes watching on from the shadows.

Chao-Xing and Bai He leaves very quickly after the battle is done, their master has things he needs them to do, and they don't want to be around their parents, or their oh so perfect brother, after that.

They miss any talk of Macaque's brainwashing.

Grinning Shadow AU Masterpost

Thanks for asking! Sorry I took so long to answer, school started again and the signal at my school sucks, which is really disappointing because it has a lot of Pokémon Go gyms. So I'll be a bit slower in answering until Friday, I don't have class on Fridays :D

[starlos-soulmate]

I love it when I'm so hungry I'm nauseous and I wanna eat stuff. I have food right there in front of me but I can't eat it. And that's making everything worse

[logansdoll]

hammered

you get a little too turnt during girls night, and logan comes to your rescue.

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, Logan's your white knight, Ororo's gettin lit, men are creeps, you're actually drunk as a skunk, etc.

"You guys got together?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Ororo gasped, loudly, sitting up straight in her seat.

Your brows furrowed, eyes widening at her volume, a few passing party-goers sharing concerned looks.

"Say it louder. I don't think the rest of the city heard you..." you grumbled, face burning as you took a sip from your strawberry daiquiri.

She sat next to you on the little leather couch situated at the back of the club near the bar, which had began to trickle with activity.

The three of you had been there for only about thirty minutes, the buzz of the night starting to pick up, the dance floor packed with dancers and drinks flowing.

And the eyes, still staring.

"Ignore her, (n/n)," Jean smiled, kindly, as she rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I think it's sweet you two took it at your own pace. It shows how serious you both are about this."

The three of you were having easy conversation, drinking and gabbing about whatever came to mind, when you and Logan were suddenly brought up.

And Ororo nearly died of shock when she found out you two were official.

"And speaking of seriousness... I believe we have an audience..."

Another group of three in particular, whose gazes were piercing you and your friends from across the way.

The three intense pairs of eyes belonged to three men in their best designer.

They each had their own outstanding feature: the tallest one sitting on the right had long, black hair, while the one on the left had arms roped in tattoos and lip piercings, the final one having a buzz cut and a snaggle-toothed smile.

Their lustful stares all but ignored by the two sitting next to you, your mind preoccupied with downing your second daiquiri that soon turned into a third.

You barely paid the men any mind, already knowing a man ten times hotter than all of them combined.

You actually missed him a whole damn lot.

You both were supposed to have a date night, but he got called last minute to round up Rogue and her friends who were causing havoc at some far off arcade.

So the girls dragged you out to the club, much to your protest.

'The kids just had to choose tonight of all nights...'

Ororo scoffed, gulping down another jell-O shot, "Waiting on him to come?" she chuckled, the flashing club lights making her light eyes sparkle.

You flushed in your mini dress, feeling hot despite the blasting AC and your exposed skin.

"You'll be waiting a while," she sighed, crossing her smooth legs over one another. "I heard Scott over the phone... those kids are in serious trouble."

You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed that he wasn't there, resting his hand at the small of your back, giving you those lustful stares on the dance floor, and complimenting your outfits in his own Logan way.

You'd done so much to make sure you looked hotter than hot, too.

You had raided your closet and pulled out a short, backless mini dress that made your legs look longer and showed off the curve of your spine sliding down towards your ass.

You loved, loved, loved it—how beautiful the black fabric looked against your skin; how sexy it made you feel.

Not to mention it was one of Logan's favorites.

He'd torn it off you many times.

Combined with your stiletto heels, fresh mani-pedi, the perfume adorning your wrists and the back of your knees, and hair that gracefully caressed your shoulders, you felt like a damn vixen.

Ororo sat up, taking your hand in hers, "No sense in sitting around while you wait, eh?"

She smirked at you, mischief in her eyes.

"Let's dance."

You paused a moment, hesitant.

But in that instant, those three daiquiris hit you like a truck, and all inhibitions went out the window.

'Fuck it.'

You stood up, chugging the last of your drink before taking her hand.

"Let's do it."

Famous last words.

Smoothly, you glided your fingers up your body, swaying your hips in rhythm with the beat as Ororo danced with one of the men.

You two had been dancing so well, you called the attention of the entire club. And with you about seven daiquiris in, it felt as if the music was coursing through your veins and melding with your bones.

The men of the establishment were hounding you both relentlessly—Jean having escaped to the bar to strike up some friendly conversation with the bartender—and even with your inebriated state, you fought them off vigorously, smacking away hands and returning advances with a sharp tongue.

Though the novelty was beginning to fade, and the urge to go home had began to set in.

As if on que, your phone began to buzz, taking your attention away from your thoughts.

"Hold up! I'm getting a call!" you laughed. "I'll be right back, 'Ro!"

She gave you a wink before you went stumbling off the dance floor, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You decided to go to the nearest ladies' room, leaning against the wall where the long line started, before flipping open your phone.

You looked down at the caller ID, grinning to see the name of your favorite guy on the screen.

"Heyyyy, Logan," you sang into the phone with a drunk giggle.

"There you are," Logan let out a sigh of relief from the other side of the phone. "I've been tryin' to reach ya. I just finished roundin' up the kids and droppin' 'em off back home, so I'm free for the rest of the night if ya still wanna go out."

"Oh!" you chuckled, "Sorry!"

As you paused, Logan suddenly became confused.

"Where the hell are you? It's so loud, I can barely hear ya."

You placed one foot up on the wall, leaning your back flush against the cool tiles. "'Roro 'n' Jean took me to the club 'n' these guys tried to join us," you slurred. "Oh, they bought us drinks, too. And one said he liked my dress. He wasn't as good looking as you."

"You wearin' the backless one?" he asked, sounding intrigued.

You giggled giddily in response, finding humor in his quiet curse.

"Damn... ya had to pull that one out?"

"Oh, you should see me, Logan... I look gooood," you smiled, looking down at yourself. "But it's not the same... s'not as fun without you."

You lowered your foot back down to the ground and crossed your arm over your midsection, suddenly feeling cold and small.

"I miss you, Logan," you said, quietly. "Could you pick me up, please?"

His chest warmed at your tone, unable to fight the smirk on his face.

Despite the fact that you were absolutely sloshed, your mind still drifted to him, and even missed him when he was away.

It was adorable.

"Sure, sweetheart. Where are—?" "Wait!" you shrieked, a smile blooming on your face as you got quiet.

Logan cocked a brow.

'Huh?'

It was your favorite song.

"Logan! It's my song! I'll be right back!" you smile into the phone before hanging up, scrambling back to Ororo.

When you shimmeyed back onto the dance floor, she happily greeted you, moving in sync with the rhythm as you began your own moves.

"Oooo, what's that?" you asked, pointing at the glass she was holding.

It was orange and topped with ice and chopped oranges and strawberries, reminding you of a tequila sunrise.

"Want it?" she giggled, holding it out for you to take.

Which you gladly did, tossing it back lie it was water, humming approvingly at the taste as you licked the remnants off your lips.

The two men next to her were close to falling out from the scene.

"Fuck," one of them groaned. "Can you do that to me?"

You turned to them, brows furrowed. "Fuck off. My guy's gonna be here anyyyyy second."

Ororo gasped as she threw an arm around you, pulling you close to her perfume-soaked neck, "He's coming? That's great!"

You both cheered together, throwing your hands in the air as you continued to dance.

"C'mon," a man smirked from behind you. "What's he doing leaving a pretty lil' thing like you alone?"

Your face fell, expression annoyed as you turned to him, "Didn't I tell you to go somewhere? He's gonna show up sooon..."

The man had gotten closer, so close that you could see him lick his lips, expectantly.

He scoffed, leering down at you under the strobe lights, "But he ain't here, is he?"

"I wouldn't put money on it, bub," Logan replied from behind him.

Your eyes lit up like stars as soon as you laid eyes on your dark, handsome bodyguard.

He stood there behind the man with his thick, leather-clad arms crossed over his broad chest, which was covered by his white tee.

And he looked less than pleased.

"Logan!" you smiled, moving to stand by his side like a magnet.

The man turned to face him, watching as Logan snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"This is the boyfriend?" he laughed, amused.

His words hardened Logan's expression tenfold, and it took everything in you not to giggle.

"Yeah, I am. And why the fuck are you still here?"

His words forced the man's expression to meld into one of frustration, and you bit back an amused smile at the sight.

You were drunk out of your mind, but you knew better than to interfere.

The man swallowed thickly, "I was just—"

"Harrassin' my woman."

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname.

He'd been calling you that for a while, but somehow it always felt like the first time.

"I didn't know she was yours—"

In a flash, his Logan's fist was up, his claws were on display and right in front of the man's face, scaring the shit out of him.

"I don't like repeating myself," he spat, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Fuck. Off."

You both watched the man scatter, eyes wide as he scrambled toward the bar.

Damn.

'What a bitch...'

"You alright?" Logan asked, taking off his leather jacket as he glared around the room, taking notice of the other leering men on the dance floor. "This place is full of fuckin' sleazeballs."

You shrugged, running a hand through your hair, "Eh, I managed."

Wordless, he handed over his jacket, your nose wrinkled in confusion.

"What's that for?"

"You're shivering, (n/n)."

You looked down at yourself, realizing that you were, indeed, shivering.

"Oh."

"C'mon," he sighed, draping the jacket over your shoulders before resting his hand at the small of your back, steering you toward the exit. "I think that's enough fun for one night."

Glancing back at Ororo, he gave a small look, slightly concerned.

"Scott's on his way for you two... You gonna be good?"

"Tipsy, but okay!" she gave him a thumbs up, along with a little wink. "Have fun, you two!"

He ignored the innuendo, but nodded, going back to ushering you out the back door.

"I missed you, Logan," you confessed, a slight whine to your voice as you practically clung to him.

"I know you did, sweetheart," he sighed, approaching one of Cyclops' cars. "Let's get you home."

The moment you hung up the phone, he sped over to the club, breaking about fifteen different traffic laws in the process.

An annoyance he decided to deal with the next day.

Without warning, you grabbed him, shoving him up against a wall of the alley you were in, interlocking your fingers as your free hand traced mindless shapes in his chest.

"You look so good, Logan," you purred, eyeing him up and down with hungry eyes, heating him from the inside out. "So good."

Suddenly, your lips attached to his neck, lazily peppering the flesh with kisses and pecks, with the occasional nip.

"(n/n)... you're drunk," Logan stated, moreso for himself, as he weakly tried to pry you off.

"I'd do this anyway," you grinned into his skin, pulling back to look at him, gaze half-lidded. "You look so sexy..."

Slowly, your lips curled into a hazy, loving smile, your eyes staring up at him like he was the only thing in the world.

Fuck...

You'd think he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

'This woman's gonna be the death of me...'

"What's wrong?" you asked, lips pouty and eyes glassy as you looked up at him, your expression one of hurt. "You're not touching me..."

"Doll," he sighed, voice slightly strained. "As gorgeous as you look... and as much as I wanna pin you against this wall... you're fuckin' hammered. And I'd like to feel you up when you actually know what yer doin'."

He pulled back to see your reaction, only to find you were already out like a light, softly snoring and drooling all over his shirt.

A soft smile fell onto his lips at the adorable sight, the man brushing some of your hair out your face before scooping you up in his arms, pressing a long kiss on your forehead.

'Somethin' else...'

[allertononfilm]

duking it out - rafe cameron (18+)

summary: when you almost get robbed after a night out, your best friend insists you learn some self-defence from her older brother, who happens to own a gym. you also can't stand each other, but what happens when the two of you are left to your own devices.

content warnings: original afab!reader, obx!universe, enemies to lovers, best friends brother, boxer!rafe, use of petnames (princess, baby), 18+ MDNI - smut, dom!rafe, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, unprotected p in v, minor use of restraint, mirror sex, reader hurts herself/blood tw, mentions of getting robbed/jumped (not by rafe lol), mentions of guns/pepper spray, angsty af

length: 4.2k words

"Will you at least promise me you'll consider it?"

"Sarah, no. I'm not-"

"You almost got mugged. It would give me some peace of mind." she disputes once again, looking at you wearily.

She wasn't exactly wrong. It was a few weeks back while you were walking through Figure 8 on your way home from another wild kegger on the beach. And in the early hours of the morning, the sun having barely risen, some masked Pogue took the opportunity to ambush you.

Luckily, you carried pepper spray on you for this specific reason, blasting it in the culprit's face and sprinting back to your place as fast as you could. But according to your best friend, you should be a bit more prepared if you ever ended up in worse circumstances, god forbid.

"Rafe!" she calls through the house, marching towards the kitchen without even checking to see if you were following. "Can you help me out with this?"

"What are you talking about?" he quizzes, scrunching his face in confusion.

"She doesn't think she needs to learn any self-defense." Sarah clarifies, earning a judgmental scoff from the older boy.

"That's fucking stupid." he corroborates, causing you to glare at him.

"Don't call me stupid." you pout, wishing your well-meaning best friend hadn't dragged her overbearing brother into another one of your predicaments.

Saying you and Rafe didn't get along was an understatement. You couldn't stand him. He was arrogant, and rude, and just completely unbearable. You didn't know how someone as kind and bubbly as Sarah was related to such a nightmare. And along with his dreadful personality, he had a bit of a bad reputation around the island.

Rumours swirled about how he'd been involved in shady business deals or that he was entangled with one of the island's most infamous and menacing gangs. Having gotten into his fair share of fights in high school, which led you back to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"What? Would you rather I lied?" he taunts, unscrewing the cap of whatever sports drink he was holding and taking a sip.

"Enough." Sarah referees. "Besides, you told me you'd help."

"That was before I knew who it was." he antagonizes, not even sparing you a glance.

"Yeah. As much as I'd love an excuse to punch Rafe, I'll have to pass." you acknowledge in a rare moment of compromise.

"Didn't know you liked it rough," he insinuates, rolling your eyes at the innuendo.

"Please." Sarah turns back to you in a pleading manner. "Just some basic stuff. I just want to make sure you don't find yourself in a vulnerable situation again. I hate to agree with him, but it is stupid to turn down learning from, like, one of the best trainers on the island."

Rafe decided after high school that he'd channel his fury and aggressive energy into something more productive, opening his gym up a few years back. And unfortunately, you knew she was probably right. The boxing studio having become one of the hottest spots to work out in Figure 8.

"Don't look so excited, princess. A lot of girls would be jumping at the chance to get free coaching from me." he quips.

"You're not gonna drop this?" you purse your lips at Sarah, her agitation not easing at all. "Fine. Whatever."

"No, if we're doing this, we're doing it my way. My gym." Rafe interjects. "You're gonna be there tomorrow morning at 8. You're gonna come, you're gonna listen to what I tell you, and you're not gonna act like a brat because I'm doing this as a favor for Sarah. Got it?"

With a hesitant nod, the session was set for the next day to your contempt. You were met by the sound of grunts and rustling chains when you entered the facility, finding Rafe at the far side of the room battering a punching bag. Too focused to realize you'd walked in, giving you the opportunity to get a proper look at him.

He wore a fitted white tank and basketball shorts, his sun-kissed skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. His toned arms on full display for you to admire as they tensed every time he hit the cushioned equipment. His signature grimace settled on his features as he beat the hung-up gear like it was personal.

"Fuck," he curses, alarmed once he detected your presence. "Sorry. Have you been here long?" He shrugs off, going for a swig of water.

"Just a minute," you reveal, stepping further into the building, almost feeling as though you weren't supposed to be there.

"Is, uh, that what you're wearing, or were you gonna change?" he surveys, taking in the tight leggings and crop top that clung to you. You shook your head at his question, neither of you knowing how to proceed cordially.

"You don't have to do this, by the way," you mention, giving him one last out.

"Huh?"

"I get you're doing this for Sarah. I can tell her you did if you'd just rather I go..." you offer.

"What? Already trying to run?" he solicits, the typical friction between you arising once again. "I don't mind," he reinforces, relieving some of your apprehension. 

He advised that you stretch a bit first, reluctantly following his lead as he got into what you were sure was his standard routine, somewhat hopeless yourself when it came to working out. An R&B track playing lightly over the speakers, filling the uncomfortable quiet that hung between you two.

You found yourself fixed on Rafe longer than usual, blaming it on the fact that you were trying to mimic his agile movements. There was no denying he was attractive, another trait you found particularly irritating, but seeing him in his element gave you a whole new perspective. He looked incredibly chiseled, a stark contrast to the usual sight of him in shirts that hid his arms, noticing how swole his biceps were with every flex of his.

Once you were finished warming up, he led you towards the practice ring that sat at the back of the gym. Tossing you a pair of boxing gloves and discarding his tank to the side prior to ushering you onto the canvas. Circling the perimeter like he was a shark targeting his prey.

"Are you gonna walk around and stare at me all day, or actually teach me something useful?" you sassed, making him to stop in his tracks with a hardened expression. "I don't have all day, Rafe."

"What happened again?"

"I was, uh, walking home from that party on the beach a few weeks back, and some kid jumped out at me on my way home and tried taking my shit." you recount, Rafe frowning at the story.

"Have you ever learned any self-defense?" he inquires.

"Yeah, I pepper sprayed him and ran the fuck home." you explain, making him snicker.

"And when you don't have that on you?"

"I don't know. My keys? A gun?"

"A gun?" he remarks, amused by your answer.

"Yeah. I could get one of those small ones."

"Sounds like a solid plan, princess."

"I swear, if you're just gonna piss me off-"

"I told you when we agreed to this you can't stand around and bitch at me the entire time." he recalls, not appearing too impressed.

"Then teach me something."

"Fine, let's work on your reaction time."

"My reaction time is fine. I did fight him off." you refute, tired of the constant belittling.

"And how big was this guy? Was he 6'5 and huge, or some shrimpy Pogue that wasn't much taller than you?" he challenges, startled at how accurate the latter description was of your attacker. "You might not get that lucky next time around."

You let him take over from there, watching as he continued walking around the platform menacingly, almost sizing you up in a way. Like you were playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Like there was a hint of something almost suggestive hanging in the air between you.

In any other scenario, you probably would've laughed at how he was stalking towards you. Abruptly diving out to snatch you from the side, making you whip around and instinctively throwing your hands in front of you. Not giving him a chance to grab you properly. Seeming satisfied with your efforts, he stepped back to the edge of the ring to launch into the  next drill.

It all happened so fast. He rushed towards you from behind, your initial impulse being to turn and lunge the other way, not realizing your shoelace had untied. You were in the air for a few seconds, tripping face-first into the mats. An ache immediately rising as you peeled yourself off the floor, almost missing how Rafe was at your side without delay, concern etched on his features.

"Shit."

He scanned you for injuries, quick to fuss over your condition while you were just trying to adjust to his sudden worry towards you. As you caught your breath, it hitched again when he reached out and held your cheek. Growing nervous when you saw his focus drift to your mouth.

"You're bleeding..." he notes, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip. "Don't move."

He dashed over to snag the first-aid kit and hurried back over, chucking it on the ground beside you. Taking your wrists and unfastening the padded protection covering your fists, doing the same with the other. He searched through the small bag, ripping open an antiseptic wipe as he assessed the wound.

"Sit down." he requested, complying to his instruction since you didn't want to cause any more unnecessary chaos. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh, no..." you trail off.

"This might sting..." he tells you as he brought the damp cloth to the cut, instantly hissing at the tender sensation despite his warning. "Sorry," he murmurs remorsefully.

"Don't apologize. It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. You tripped." he reassures dismissively, letting the conversation die rather than feud over it.

The dynamic between you and Rafe was contentious, the two of you always bickering and getting under each other's skin. However, that wasn't the energy you were feeling right now. If anything, it felt a bit charged. Not missing the way his devious smirk reemerged on his lips as he cleaned the gash, the prolonged silence only making you more uneasy.

"What?"

"Only you would manage to get hurt when I'm trying to teach you how to protect yourself." he patronizes, snickering to himself.

You tore yourself out of his grasp, touching the bloody spot and deciding you'd just handle it yourself in the bathroom. Not in the mood to deal with whatever mind games he was playing at. His reflexes were still quicker than yours as he blocked you from getting up.

"Stop being difficult and just let me," he asserts. Not anticipating for him to take your chin to halt your tantrum, his face just a few inches from yours. "Please."

His glance flickered between your eyes and mouth, noting a shift in his expression—one you'd never seen before. Keeping your own on anything but him, no longer able to trust yourself to not do something you know you'll regret. Finding yourself softening under his wary gaze, against your better judgment.

"Why are you helping me?" you finally decide to ask him, the question coming out almost sheepishly.

"Seriously?" he replies, almost seeming offended. "Other than the fact that I was genuinely trying to do you a favour and show you how to defend yourself, and you ended up with a busted lip instead? Maybe I'm just not as much of an asshole as you'd like to believe."

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead." you feign, falling back into your usual banter.

"Would it really kill you to just be nice to me for a few minutes?" he comments sarcastically, not giving you much room to argue.

"Thanks, I guess." you concede, his signature grin reappearing.

"Sorry, I missed that." he exaggerates, turning his ear towards you to repeat yourself.

"You're such a pain in the ass." you grumble, crossing your arms. "Thank you."

He finished treating the wound, squeezing out some healing cream onto his finger and brushing it across the sensitive area. Your lips parting at the intimate gesture, your eyelids fluttering shut. Keeping them closed to avoid facing the bitter truth that you didn't totally hate being in this compromising position with Rafe.

"At least now you got some battle scars, so no more thugs will mess with you." he declares.

"You can't help yourself." you scold.

"What? I'm just fucking around." he averts, thrown off by your change in demeanor.

"That's the thing with you, Rafe. Do you take anything seriously?" you proclaim, jumping back to your feet and fiddling to shove the gloves back on.

"Yes?"

"You're stubborn and aggravating, and always fuckingaround. You definitely don't take me seriously-"

"What are you even talking about?"

"That's the whole reason I'm here, right? Another free pass so you can give me shit?" you blindly accuse, temper flaring.

"Fuck, do you ever shut up?" he seethes in frustration, caging you in against the ropes as he towered over your figure.

"Move," you demand, nudging the barrier he'd created around you.

"Calm down," he urges you, as if his domineering stance wasn't partially to blame for your distress.

"Rafe," you huff, trying to escape his scrutiny when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders and pinned you back.

"I said calm down." he reiterates.

His piercing glare acted like another physical restraint, simultaneously making you confront the conflicting desires you'd suppressed towards him for years. It was just the easier choice—not wanting to involve yourself with someone so unpredictable or cross the boundary that was your best friend's older brother.

"Why don't you think I take you seriously?" he investigates, surprised that was what he'd hung onto from your rant.

"Are you kidding me right now?" you counter. "You've never been nice to me since I became friends with Sarah."

"Only because you're a fucking know-it-all," he contends, recognizing the teasing in his voice. "Do you think I'd do this for any of the other clowns Sarah hangs around?"

You didn't know what to say to that, trying not to focus on certain details throughout the years. How he'd always been more impartial to you compared to the rest of the group you were usually with. Assuming the pleasantries he'd occasionally throw your way were just another attempt to get on your nerves.

"You make it so easy to rile you up, princess." he remarks, taking the large gloves that were acting like a barrier between you and slipping them off your hands. "And don't try to tell me you don't like it either."

"I... I don't." you falter.

He took your chin and turned you back towards him, but this time there was no reason for it—caressing your jaw and studying you like some priceless piece of art. It was unsettling, the speed at which he was able to switch from tough and threatening to gentle and vigilant. Knowing you'd never seen this side of him in all the years you'd known his sister.

"Try again." he mutters, not letting you get away so fast.

"I don't, Rafe." you insist, trying to keep your tone steady but still lacking conviction—just enough to give you away.

"Then why haven't you pushed me off yet?" he boasts.

"I-" you stutter, considering your next words carefully. "You still haven't taught me shit." you maintain, knowing your response was weak as it came out.

"What's got you so quiet, hm?" he interrogates, basking in your discomfort.

"You're insufferable, do you know that?"

"Maybe. But you still haven't moved."

That's when his lips grazed yours delicately, almost questioning if it was a hallucination. Only knowing it wasn't because of the dull ache from his direct contact on your fresh injury. His icy blue eyes meeting yours in challenge, as if he was daring you to take the inevitable next step. As if he was waiting for your permission.

It felt like you were hit by a tidal wave when you finally kissed him, the faint taste of blood reaching your senses but you were so absorbed by him to even care. Rafe using his tongue to soothe the ripped flesh as he slipped it into your mouth. All of your resistance towards him being disarmed as he kissed you like he'd been wanting to forever.

One of his hands snaked to the bottom of your scalp, threading through your hair; the other sliding to your lower back and pulling you against him. Cradling you to his large physique like he didn't want to let you stray too far, not that you wanted to. While his actions were just as meticulous as his teaching style had been earlier, his execution was still raw and impassioned.

"Are you gonna keep being difficult? Or are you gonna listen to me like a good girl?" he grills hoarsely.

"Are you gonna make it worth my while?" you retort smartly, not wanting to fully surrender control.

He just chuckled as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, the sound making your stomach twist, something you weren't used to feeling in his presence. Extending your nape as he placed a sloppy peck on your skin, lingering to make sure he'd left a mark. The disdain you'd always held towards him now somehow coming off as charming.

"Relax," he cooed, squeezing your waist before yanking your top off.

He discarded the shirt elsewhere, kissing down your torso and along the waistband of your spandex. Hooking his thumbs into the stretchy fabric, peering up at you as he licked his lips, your heart racing in anticipation. Leaving you exposed and disheveled in the middle of the gym, resting on the ropes to find some sort of stability.

"Shit... Can't believe I've kept my hands to myself this long around you," he mused, skimming through your wetness.

"Please Rafe." you whisper, as if the hushed volume of your voice somehow made it all seem less legitimate.

"Can't hear you, princess." he goads, not tearing his gaze from you. You didn't want to give in to his endless provoking, but it was as if he was coaxing it right out of you.

"Rafe, please." you echo, anguish evident from your tone.

"That's it, baby..." he praises, letting two of his digits slip inside you without any warning. "You always this wet around me?"

You instantly melted into his touch, like you were a puppet and he knew the exact strings he needed to pull. Rafe taking advantage of your disoriented state and kissing you again fiercely, the hostility that had built over the years boiling over and getting channeled into your embrace. Grabbing your thigh and hooking it around his waist to give himself better access to you, bringing you into a deeper lust.

He added another finger, immediately giving away that your climax was close as you clenched around him. And then right when your pleasure was about to hit, he withdrew them. A choked whine leaving your throat as he brought them up to his mouth, not daring to tear his attention from you.

"What the fuck?" you protest breathlessly.

Without a word, he took your extended leg, scooping you up with ease and wrapping you around his frame. Bringing you to the middle of the ring and laying you on the ground, looming over you again as he stripped off his pants. Straddling your bottom half, leaving you dumbfounded by how big he was as he pumped himself a few times.

"Told you if you came here, we do this my way. Arms up," he instructs.

As you stretched them over your head, Rafe took both your wrists and held you down. Your heart racing when you realized what he was doing, squirming as you felt him drag himself between your puffy folds. Rocking against him to create any extra friction as he continued to tease you as much as he could, surely revenge for your coldness towards him over the years.

"What's wrong, baby?" he mocks. "Tell me what you want."

"Need you..." you divulge, being met with Rafe's condescending laugh at your pathetic plea.

"You've made that pretty obvious, but that's not gonna be enough right now." he specifies, knowing what he ultimately wanted to hear and too far gone to keep denying yourself of him.

"Please, Rafe. Need you to fuck me." you confess, shuddering when you felt his fat tip circle your core.

"You had a change of heart or something? Not used to you being so nice to me," he revels smugly. "But since you asked so nicely."

You gasped as he slowly buried himself into you, fluttering around him as soon as he sunk into you. Keeping his motions steady and unhurried on purpose, clearly holding back from outwardly demolishing you right away.

You were already close to your high from his initial build-up, falling back into your bliss as he picked up a consistent flow, trembling as he started playing with your swollen clit. The hand he'd bounded you with loosening the more he lost himself in the essence of you.

"Is that why you've always been such a brat? Wanted me to do something about it? Shut you up myself?" he spits.

You clutched his face as his lips found yours again, unable to conceal how enamored you'd become by him. Losing your composure as his hips snapped into you, gawking at how his cock disappeared with every plunge into you. His athletic figure overtaking you without difficulty, looking like he was some Adonis.

"Rafe, I-" you plead, too consumed to even tell him you were reaching your peak, not that he didn't pick up on it.

"Let it out," he grunts, his rhythm unrelentless.

Shockwaves surged through your system as you let out a loud cry, drenching him with your arousal. Rafe pecking across your collarbones and up your neck until he was back at your lips, swallowing every noise you made. The action much more tender than he'd been up until then.

"Turn over," he barks, barely straying from the kiss.

"W-what?" you stammer, still recovering from the first orgasm.

"You heard me. I'm not done with you yet." he reprimands, straightening his posture. "On your knees."

He nodded forward to emphasize his command, eagerly awaiting what he'd do next. Moaning when he pawed at your backside and yanked you closer, not refraining as his palm glided across the flesh. Only noticing that you were facing the row of mirrors that covered one of the walls as you peered up.

He started hammering into you from behind, his technique now rougher from his new angle. You soaked in his reflection, observing how his torso flexed with every thrust, only becoming more turned on by the lewd scene unfolding in the mirror. Drunk off the sensation of Rafe, already knowing this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

"I think I prefer you this way, princess." he purrs into your ear, smacking your ass one more time. "Too fucked out to open that big mouth of yours."

His movements got hastier, but he still managed to pound at angles he hadn't from your previous position. Gripping your waist roughly as he slammed into you, effortlessly hitting your g-spot with every grind of his hips. In disbelief that the man that was fucking you into oblivion was the same guy that you'd written off for so long.

"You gonna cum for me again?" he gloats, lowering his face to hover beside yours.

"Please, Rafe..." you beg, holding his piercing gaze in the mirror, his warmth radiating onto you.

"Who knew you were so damn polite?" he snides, striking your rear one last time. "Gonna let me ruin that pretty pussy?" he growls, mewling desperately at his filthy declaration.

With a few more pumps, he filled you with his own release, not stopping until he was fully satisfied. Coming undone again yourself as he pushed you back over your edge, the only sound filling the silent gym being heavy panting. Your head dropping in front of you as you caught your breath, whimpering when you felt him pull out.

Reality hit you like a ton of bricks as you finally registered what had just happened. Still clouded in your daze as he left featherlight pecks up your spine, doing your best to ignore the sweet gesture. Unsure how to even go forward, regret swiftly replacing your once insatiable hunger, blaming the moment on pure weakness.

"Hey," you hear Rafe utter, meeting his eyes through the reflection. "I can already see those cogs turning, baby..."

"I just..." you hesitate, trying to find the right thing to say when you'd barely processed what was going on.

"You just what, hm?" he drawls, turning your head towards him as he captured your lips with his.

"You're fucking trouble, Cameron." you mumble, giggling softly at the sudden turn of circumstances.

"What? You didn't enjoy your workout?" He implies shamelessly. "Don't act like you weren't into it. And don't think I'm letting you get away so easily either." He playfully accosts you, toppling onto his back and making you squeal as he pulled you back on top of him, passionately kissing you again.

note: suuper long, suuuper dirty 🤭 i wish i was exaggerating when i say ive been editing this for like a month omfg sos my brain is actually rotted lmao. hope you guys like it!! i'm trying to actually write more since i've been making a lot of short-form content sooo please be kind bc i'm still trying to find my bearings again lolol🙈

[baronessvonglitter]

Sweet Summer Peach

dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader | wc: 3.7K

Summary: when your dad's best friend Joel catches you with his younger brother Tommy, it sets off a spark of jealousy that can only be tamed by showing you how a real man treats a woman.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, big ol' girthy age gap (reader is between 18-21, Joel is in his 50s, Tommy is in his 40s), Tommy is a womanizer and Joel's just trying to save you from him while also getting a little of you for himself, innocence kink, first time/loss of virginity, fingering, dry humping, truck sex on a hot day in July, unprotected p in v sex (not stated whether reader is on birth control but we'll assume she is), creampie, come eating, praise and pet names (angel, darlin', baby from Joel; sugar, sweetheart from Tommy) definitely a daddy kink as you've known Joel your whole life and he's like a second father to you, once again your dad is clueless as to what's going on, reader is also Sarah's best friend but she is only mentioned not seen. Reader has hair that Joel can pull and wears a bikini and a sundress. No use of y/n.

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Why don't you ditch that silly little wine cooler and let me give you a taste of somethin' else, sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice is sinful in your ear. "Somethin' a little stronger."

It's over a hundred degrees outside, with no comfort in the shade. The Millers are hosting their annual Fourth of July barbecue, and plenty of people are over, eating, drinking, chatting, swimming in the brand new pool. You've known Tommy and his older brother Joel for years, the latter your dad's best and oldest friend. You and Sarah, Joel's daughter, have been best friends as long as you can remember, being the same age and living just across the street from each other. Joel himself has always been like a second father to you, having watched you grow up. He took you and Sarah to ball games, to the zoo, on fishing expeditions, helped with homework, practically helped raise you. Sarah was his Baby, and you were his Angel.

Tommy, on the other hand, hasn't seen you in years. But he definitely likes the woman you've grown to be.

He's been making eyes at you all afternoon, not-so-subtle glances your way, obviously enticed by your new, revealing bikini. You're garnering a lot of attention from people today, just as you'd expected when you bought it. Your dad would sure have some comments to make on how underdressed you are, but he's not here, working until the evening, and you're taking advantage of your freedom.

Tommy awaits your answer, and with your drink gathering condensation in your hand, you tell him, "Okay," with a soft smile.

He takes your hand, fingers weaving around yours. "Let's dip into the house for a few minutes," he murmurs, eyes gleaming with mischief. Taking a quick look around you notice Joel's eyes on you, his gaze unreadable but you can sense he's on the verge of moving to stop you. But the sight of his glare only serves to stoke the fire of your excitement. It's highly likely he does not like watching Tommy lead you away to privacy.

"Where are you takin' me?" you ask, a giggle bubbling in your throat as you leave your drink behind. He's guiding you to the side entrance of the house, down the hall and to a small den. The blast of the AC hits you with sweet relief and you nearly sigh with satisfaction.

"Away from all the heat," he says, gently pushing you to the wall.

"Tommy," you giggle, half anxious, half excited.

His hands go immediately to your hips, his grip warm and firm as he pulls you close. A low, primal growl rumbles through his chest and he leans in, his nose brushing against your neck. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I got ya." His breath his hot against your skin, his teeth graze your throat, sending a shiver of want down your spine.

"You like that, sugar?" he whispers, his hands exploring your soft thighs, caressing upwards until they brush against the fabric of your bikini.

"More.." your voice comes out in a whimper.

Tommy's eyes gleam with pleasure at your desperate plea. "Greedy girl." His fingers find their way beneath your bikini bottom, gliding across your folds, grinning when you begin to grow even more wet under his touch. He teases without pushing inside, wanting to see you grow absolutely uninhibited with need. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he teases.

"Not.. used to bein' touched like this," you tell him, brow furrowed in concentration of desire.

"Mm. I can tell." His touch is gentle and insistent, seeking out the spots that make your knees buckle. "You only ever had your own fingers in ya? That it?" He drinks in your sounds of pleasure as you nod at his question. He traces over your clit, watching your hips jerk. "There ya go.." he coaxes, lips on your neck as he continues touching and teasing you. "You like that, huh? Like how I'm touchin' ya?" His fingers circle your clit until you feel yourself grow tighter and tighter, soon to unwind..

"Yes.. yes.. oh my god, oh my god," you moan, and when you open your eyes Joel is there, watching both of you. He looks pissed. You shriek as you meet his searing gaze.

"Get your fuckin' hands off her," he growls menacingly.

Your blood freezes and you're vaguely aware of Tommy's fingers slipping away as he moves from you. Then as you realize your state of dress you try to fix your disheveled bikini, a feeble attempt to cover yourself. "Joel.. I'm sorry," you whisper.

Joel's eyes stay locked on you, a possessive rage smoldering in his black depths. He steps towards you, his movements deliberate and calculated, like a predator stalking its prey. "Sorry?" he mocks. "What the fuck are you doin' in here with my little brother's hands all over ya?"

"I.. I wasn't thinking." It's the truth. For once you'd let your hormones think for you.

His expression hardens. "You weren't thinkin'? That's all you have to say?" His gaze flicks to Tommy, the simmering anger still present in his eyes. "You. Get out," he commands, his voice sharp and authoritative.

Tommy hesitates briefly, all former bravado gone in the presence of his older brother's ire, and leave you and Joel alone.

You feel ashamed, scared, still dizzy with desire if you're honest, the ache Tommy created in you still lingering. "Joel, I'm sorry.. you won't tell my dad, will you?"

Joel's gaze is intense. "You're damn right I won't. Your daddy would rip my brother limb from limb if he found out what just happened." He steps closer to you, his eyes roaming your body, taking in your scantily clad appearance. "But you and I, darlin', we need to clear some things up."

"Like what?" you ask in a small voice, expecting the worst.

"First: I don't want you alone with Tommy ever again. Am I understood?" His voice drops to a low growl. "Second: I'm not done with you, angel. You're comin' with me."

Despite knowing you're in trouble already, you're recalcitrant. "You can't tell me what to do! I'm not a child anymore!"

Joel's eyes flash with anger, and before you can react, his hand quickly clamps around your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You're actin' like a child, darlin'. Now you can either come with me quietly, or you can put up a fight and I'll carry you outta here. Your choice."

For some reason the thought of him carrying you out sends a jolt straight to your center. But you relent. "Fine," you growl back. Joel hands you your sundress and you put it on, not caring to ask why he had it in his possession while you were in here with Tommy.

"Good girl," he mutters, leading you to his truck outside. He opens the door for you, the gentlemanly gesture a stark difference from his earlier demeanor. As you get in, Joel climbs into the driver's seat, his large frame filling the small space.

"Where are we goin'?" you ask as he starts up the engine and drives away with you.

He doesn't turn to look at you as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled and tense. "Somewhere we can talk, darlin'," he says gruffly. "Somewhere my meddlin' brother can't get his hands on ya."

You blush with shame as you think of what Joel saw you doing with Tommy, even though it was mostly innocent. "You don't see me as your little angel no more. do you?"

Joel's gaze flicks to you for a moment, his expression showing disappointment. "You stopped bein' an angel the moment you let my brother touch ya."

He pulls his pickup into a dirt parking lot, the location surrounded by trees and secluded from prying eyes.

"Better him than someone I don't know," you say lamely, looking around the deserted area.

"That's a low bar, angel," Joel mutters, voice thick with restraint. "You're not the only one who's noticed ya, darlin'. Hell, the whole damn town's been watchin' ya grow up."

"Tommy's the one who approached me. It wasn't my fault."

"Of course. He'd be blind not to want ya," he mutters darkly. "But you're not the first girl he's had his eye on, baby, and you ain't gonna be the last either."

It stings, but you try not to let it show. "I'm not tryna marry him, we were just havin' fun."

Joel scoffs, his eyes betraying his jealousy. "Fun, huh? Is that what you call it? You have no idea what my brother is like. He's no good for you. You're too young, too innocent, too damn pure."

"Evidently I'm no longer pure by your standards," you shoot back, arms crossed. "A girl can't enjoy herself without bein' a slut, right?"

His jaw clenches. "That's not what I meant. You're not just some toy for my brother to play with and toss aside. You don't know what he could do to you."

You remember Tommy's gentle, sure touch, the way his fingers glided over your most secret parts. "I got a sense of what he could do to me," you can't resist goading Joel. "And it felt so good.."

Joel looks like he's trying to swallow glass. "I bet he made you feel things you've never felt before, didn't he?"

"Almost.. not quite.." Blush fills your face.

"You mean he didn't make you come."

To have it put so bluntly makes you blush all over again. "No.. he didn't."

Joel wets his lips. "I bet it drove you crazy, havin' him touch you like that and not bein' able to finish.. must've driven you wild, huh?"

This is crazy. This conversation is crazy. This whole thing is crazy! It's like you're a kid again and Joel's trying to explain the birds and the bees because your own father doesn't want to.

"Yeah," you answer softly. "It's like an ache that won't go away."

His gaze darkens, drinking in the image of you all desperate, unable to get what you want. "And you're still achin', aren't ya, darlin'?" His voice is low, husky, intimate.

You feel small under his gaze, like a piece of meat being dangled before a hungry lion, like Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. "Yes," comes your whispered reply.

Joel leans close, his large hands reaching out to cup your face. "Tell me what you want, angel."

He's giving you a choice, unlike Tommy who did what he wanted to do. Joel is giving you a choice.. "Make this ache go away for me.. please.."

His desire burns fiercely as he hears the plea in your voice. "You sure that's what you want, baby? Because once you let me in, there ain't no goin' back." His hands slide down to caress your neck, his touch both possessive and gentle.

You whimper. Once you let me in.. You're a fool not to think he means anything else. "I'm sure," you whisper, keeping your gaze on his dark eyes.

It sounds like a dare, like a threat, as he says, "All right, darlin'. You asked for it," and grabs hold of your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling him. You let out an involuntary gasp. His hands slide down from your waist to grab handfuls of your round ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks firmly. "I've had a mind to do this for a long damn while," he growls. "You've been fillin' out lately, and those tight little shorts you wear 'round my house ain't doin' nothin' but teasin' my cock."

All your breath leaves you, the way he's grabbing you sends waves of heat and longing throughout your body.

His eyes burn as he feels your reaction to his touch. "You like that, baby?" he continues to grab and squeeze. "I've had to look at those tight little shorts of yours every time you come over.. always showin' off that perfect peach. Even now, this lil' sundress ain't barely coverin' anything." He kneads your cheeks again, giving them a light slap each.

You gasp at the sweet little stings, and each insistent knead of his hands on your ass pushes you forward onto his hard-on that tents his jeans. "That's it, angel. Ride my lap, just like that," he grunts. Your palms are planted on his shoulders, fingers gripping tightly as you grind yourself against him. Your heart is liable to shoot out of your chest but he feels so damn good, and so dangerous. "Like this?" you ask.

"Yeah, just like that, baby." Joel looks up at you, the mask of his authority slipping just a little as he watches you. "You feel that? That's what this pretty lil' ass does to me." Another quick little slap on your butt.

"Mm hmm," you reply, too caught up in the feeling to give a proper reply. "Oh my, I'm makin' such a mess on you," you whisper, noticing the wet spot on his jeans where you've been grinding on him without a care.

"Don't worry about me, darlin'. That's what I want." His voice is thick with desire and need. "I want you all wet and messy for me."

Jesus, the man knows just what to say.. "Joel," you whine. "You said you'd make the ache go away but you only made it worse.."

He quirks a brow. "That so? Well then I better do somethin' about that." One hand snakes its way between your bodies, his fingers easily finding your pussy through the thin material of your bikini bottom. You bite your lip as a curse word leaves your mouth, your head tilted back as he finds you wet and wanting. His fingers glide easily through your folds. "You're soaked, angel." He presses a kiss against your neck, grazing his teeth upon your skin as his fingers finally enter you, pressing into your sweet, welcoming warmth.

Brows furrowed, you start moving against his touch, sighing darkly as you feel his gentle love bite. "It's all.. for you," you sigh.

"I know it is, darlin'. Always has been." As his fingers rock inside you his thumb rubs small circles against your clit.

You ride his fingers, your breath shaking, gasping at the sweet intrusion. "Joel.. don't stop.. don't stop, I'm gonna come!"

"Go on, angel," he gruffs out. "Come for me.."

He holds you tight as you come undone on his lap, your pussy walls contracting around his fingers. "That's it.. good girl.." he praises. He withdraws them gently, shiny and covered in your thick, stringy slick. In a haze of pleasure you watch as he brings them to his lips, licking them clean. "You taste even better than I dreamed."

"Let me taste," you whisper, grabbing him for a kiss and swirling your tongue against his, tasting the remnants of your fulfillment. Your heart leaps as he goes to unbuckle his belt, and your body pulsates with unbridled need that overshadows all other thoughts.

"I need to be inside ya, darlin'."

"Yes.. please," you beg shamelessly.

"Lift up, angel," he whispers, pulling his jeans and boxers down halfway as you give him room. His cock springs up from his nest of dark brown wiry curls: a perfect, slightly curving length, thick and veiny, reaching up past his belly button, his precum already dribbling from the tip. His balls are heavy and full, lifting slightly as he pulls on himself, getting him primed for you. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, voice low and thick with desire.

"Yes," you nod eagerly.

With your bikini bottom pushed to the side, he puts you over him again and starts to press into you. A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he firmly holds your hips. You gasp at the surrealness of the moment, straddling him in the driver's seat of the truck he taught you how to drive in just a couple short years ago. You whimper his name as you take a little of him at a time.

He claims your lips in a deep kiss, tongue delving into your mouth as he slowly sinks deeper inside you. Just when you think it's impossible to fit all of him, his kiss eases the way and you sink further down. "God," you sigh.

"You're doin' so good, baby. You feel so damn good around me," he soothes, completely. He starts to lift you up, to go slow and steady as already you're dripping onto him, your juices flowing down his shaft and drenching his pubes. You spread your thighs wider, feeling every inch of him inside you, a pleasure and yet a small pain. "Let me feel you like this for a little bit," you tell him, sheathing him with care.

"Whatever you want, darlin'. It's all yours," he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, trying to still his heart, trying to catch his god damn breath.

"All mine," you whisper back, your breath tickling his ear. "My first.." You kiss him again and let your tongue tease his.

"Damn right," he growls. "And I'm gonna make sure you remember it forever. You're gonna feel me for days.." With that he starts to move, slowly, generating the friction your unsatisfied body so craves. "Grind yourself on me, just like that," he whispers, pulling the front of your sundress down to reveal your bikini top, and peels that back to expose your breasts, your nipples like pert raspberries. He palms them roughly before tasting each one, swirling his tongue around one bud while pinching the other.

You squirm in his lap, moving up and down his shaft, coating him with your cream. "You're so fucking deep," you moan, cupping his head as he feasts on your tits.

"There ya go.. take all of me. Lemme fill ya up," he grunts. His body tenses under yours as you speed up, mesmerized as your tits bounce up and down right in front of him. "That's it.. ah, such a good girl for me. How much more ya want? How much can ya handle?"

"I want.. fuck!.. I want more," you moan. "Fuck me, Joel!"

At your command he thrusts up, deep and rough, pulling your hair back so he can watch your body, gleaming with sweat, pulsate with pleasure as he taps into your primal need. The truck windows are fogged up as the vehicle gently bounces with your movements. His long, thick fingers leave marks on your hips and your ass cheeks.

He pistons up into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the truck, along with his grunts and the heavenly crescendo of your sweet moans. He keeps up the rigorous pace and you're on the edge, about to topple over into bliss. "Come on, baby," he urges you. "Yeah, that's it.. come for me.."

Only a few more fierce, upward thrusts and you come, with him nestled in up to the hilt so that every inch of him can feel you quake with pleasure. Your pussy flutters and convulses around him as you rear your head back, basking in the sublime pleasure. Joel follows soon after, unable to resist as he comes deep inside you. You give a little gasp at the warm bursts of his release, unlocking something primal in you. "Give me every drop," you whisper.

"It's all yours, darlin'," he hisses, holding onto you as he pumps stream after stream of his thick white cum within you.

Your eyes meet as he finally stills, slumping back down in his seat, still holding you close so you can feel the thundering beat of one another's hearts. "God.. you filled me up," you say in amazement, feeling him drip out of you already though he hasn't made a move to disengage from you yet.

"Imma fill you up any damn time you want," he rumbles. "Even if I gotta sneak into your room at night. Your daddy ain't gonna know a thing."

You bite your lip, realizing he's not kidding, he's not giving promises he doesn't mean to keep. "He'd probably kill you if he knew what we just did."

Joel's eyes burn with a determination that scares you a little. "Well he ain't gonna ever know. I got ways of keepin' things quiet." He gazes at you and his eyes soften, as if he's looking upon the most beautiful and innocent thing in all the world. "I always knew I wanted ya, ever since you turned into such a sweet little treat."

His phone rings and he groans when he realizes it's your father. He puts a hand over your mouth even though you wouldn't dare let on that you're with him, and makes the conversation as quick as possible before hanging up. "We better go, darlin'. Your daddy's waitin', wonderin' where you are," he says casually, as if he hadn't just had a conversation with your dad while balls-deep inside you.

You lift yourself off him wincing a little at the soreness between your thighs. The remnants of Joel's sticky seed start to trickle down your leg. He runs his thumb along your inner thigh, gathering his cum and brings it to your lips. You suck the salty fluid off his thumb. "I'm not wasting any of it," you tell him, licking your lips as you swallow.

"God damn," he mutters hotly. "You're killin' me, angel," he says, helping you arrange your clothes so you're decent again.

"Not anymore.. you just turned this angel into a devil.."

"Hey pumpkin, where ya been?" your dad greets you as you get out of Joel's truck in his driveway. Walking is a little painful as you're still sore, but you try to act natural.

"Beer run," Joel answers for you, holding up a twelve-pack of Corona Extra.

"Joel took me on a ride," you can't help saying, "It was fun." His cum is still collecting in your swimsuit bottom. "Hey Daddy, Sarah asked me to spend the night with her, so I'll be here all night. Is that okay with you, Joel?" You suppress a smirk as you address both the men.

Joel's heart rate spikes and his imagination runs wild in the quick span of a moment before he says, "Of course it is. You're always welcome here."

And later, when the Fourth of July fireworks cast their multi-colored lights on the black horizon, no one notices as you and Joel sneak away together, the booms overhead concealing your noises of gratification.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[wonderjanga]

Imagine Billy and Mary and Freddy say from the start that they're siblings.

And the three of them somehow are all homeless street kids. Chaotic little gremlins.

And one day Black Adam sees them transform and is like 'WHAT THE ACTUAL-'.

And you choose what happens next-

Teth didn’t even know how this happened. Or, well, he does, but he’s still having a hard time comprehending it. See, he was minding his business in an appropriate(suspicious) disguise while scouting Fawcett for the Champion. As for why he was looking for the champion, it was because the man was missing. The champion having disappeared was suspicious, considering the man washed over his city like a hawk. Anyways, he was walking around when all of a sudden he just spots this child with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen with a little girl who also has the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. The little boy unfortunately noticed him.

Billy: “Can I help you, mister?”

Ah. Adam was staring. Though, that was mostly because the young boy looked strikingly like Aman. Anyways, Adam didn’t even know how it happened, but one moment he was talking to the kid, the next he was giving him a bunch on Kahndaqi currency as if that’ll be useful to the boy. The kid still took it though.

Billy: *bright ahh smile* “Thanks, mister!”

Black Adam: “Yes…” *wondering if the kid used mind control for a moment* “I am now off to go torment Captain Marvel. Good day, stupid children.” *flies off*

Mary, Freddy, and Billy: *offended* “Hey!” *watch him go*

Billy: *still watching him fly off* “…Adam really sucks at disguising himself.”

Freddy: “No duh, he literally said he was gonna go torment you.”

Mary: *picks up one of the coins Adam gave them* “Do you guys think we could trade this with a fairy for money? They like shiny stuffs.”

Billy: “We probably could.”

Anyways, fast forward, three months and Teth, whenever he was in Fawcett, which was unfortunately becoming more and more frequent, kept feeding and giving money to these three little urchins that are somewhat (it’s actually more than somewhat, but he would never admit it) tolerable.

Then, the fateful day came. The children were standing at their usual spot, and Adam was flying over. Then, the blasted little old bald fool with the glasses, psoriasis or Savana or whatever his name was started attacking. The children ran into an alleyway, and because of the fact Adam could care less about Savannah he flew after them because the alleyway looked shady. He was then greeted with the three of them… transforming… into his worst enemies. Specifically, the one who looked like Aman, Billy, transformed into the Champion.

After the fight with Sivana…

Black Adam: “You…”

Marvel: *startles* “Black Adam! What’re you doing here?” *suspicious*

Black Adam: *ignores him and is kind of angry monologging* “I’ve… I’ve been giving you three money and food for months… You’ve been making a fool of me!”

Marvel, Junior, and Mary: *share looks with each other cause ‘uh oh, he knows*

Marvel: “Uh… well, no. We all actually eat all that and make good financial choices. All the money I get from my job goes to rent, and on top of that we all work odd jobs for food and utility money. You’ve been a great help.” *super duper sincere*

Junior and Mary: “You’ve helped us a lot, mister!”

Black Adam: “You’ve still been making a fool of me! Also, why do you three have the power of the Living Lightning?! You’re children!”

Junior: “So?”

Black Adam: “So, none of you should have anything to do with the Rock of Eternity or being the World’s Mightiest Mortal!”

Mary: “That’s more the Wizard’s fault, not ours. Or wait no, that’s Billy fault cause he’s the one who gave us our powers.”

*silence*

Black Adam: “…I can’t believe I’ve been fighting children the entire time.”

Junior: “I know, right? And you still lose.”

Black Adam: *wants to get angry at that but just can’t muster it* “I…” *in his mind says ‘f this’, turns around and flies off*

Adam basically stewed in anger while in Kahndaq before he came back after like a week and started feeding and giving money to the kids again. He now just ignores the fact that he knows Billy is Cap and just chooses to believe that they’re two different people and still fights him.

[toorusmu]

Theres a lot of boyfriends out there, which one are they ?

Multi Chara, Haikyuu, Fluff

Best Ever !! Honestly, your friends are tired of hearing about how great he is. When you asked for his phone password out of curiosity, he just have you a strange look. "I dont have a password ?" Every time you split a snack, you got the larger piece. While walking down the streets, hed interlock your fingers and make sure you weren't close to the road. He'd always place his hand over the edges of counters to block your head from hitting it, and he always saved hot water for you.

You met his family early on, and they adore you ! Hes open and accepting about whatever family situation you have, and is comfortable waiting or being unable to meet your family. Your safety and happiness are his top priority when hes with you, and hed do anything to make you feel better.

- Sugawara, Ukai, Ennoshita, Akaashi, Kita, Sachiro, Aran, Yasufumi, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Osamu

Cuteeee !! Hes great, just a little shy and sometimes awkward. Hes on the path to become the best boyfriend, hes just new to all of this. His hands get sweaty easily while holding hands, but he never wants to let go. Under thick blankets during winter, or with a blasting AC in summers wrathful heat, he finds solitude in clinging to you.

Small gifts and pressed flowers, homemade snacks that started out tragic and slowly got more edible. Winking at you during volleyball, "This is for you !" right before his failed serve hit the net. Looks at you like a lost puppy, always following you around.

- Hinata, Inuoka, Takeda, Atsumu, Komori, Bokuto, Lev Haiba, Tadashi, Goshiki, Asahi, Hisashi, Kuroo, Hanamaki, Kindaichi, Konoha

Quite, for sure.. It can be a bit hard to communicate with him, its just too hard to tell what hes thinking ! Unless you directly ask, he'll bottle everything up. Hes not terrible, of course ! You know hes not the type to date someone he doesn't like, he just has trouble showing it. But in his small ways, he does.

Sticky note doodles and letters, getting embarrassed after accidentally ranting about volleyball or any other interest, giving you the first and last bite of everything, driving you or walking with you everywhere. If youve been dating for a while, he often prefers to show his affection through soft, quiet, touches. Petting your hair, tracing your hips, scratching your back, he needs his hands on you.

- Kenma, Kageyama, Ushijima, Sakusa, Suna, Nobuyuki, Aone

Kinda meaaaaan ! Like.. yea.. you guessss you love him (jkkk!!?), so why does he need to tease you so much ! If you're shorter, hes always using you as an armrest or bumping into you on purpose because he 'couldnt see you.' You make one mistake, and suddenly you're a "dumbass" or a "silly idiot." Rarely does he ever actually insult you, but its been an ongoing mission of yours to get his hardass to be a little romantic for once.

And of course, he has his sweet moments, but come the next day. "You look like shit." Whether you bicker back, turning it into a play fight, him never letting you win, enjoying the way he had you pinned down. Or, you could smile at him, you had his shirt on and his favorite pair of shorts, hair freshly conditioned and makeup still light and unsmeared. You knew, as much as he loved to be a bully, all it took was a soft smile for him to melt.

- Tsukishima, Yaku, Mad Dog, Kunimi, Hoshiumi

Um.. hes a little weird !! It probably took a minute for you to introduce him to your friends and family. You never knew what he was about to do or say, he always did something different or odd. Whether it be borderline scary or straight up stupid, it was one of the things you loved about him. All things considered, he was absolutely hilarious.

He eventually became like a son and friend to those close to you. Not a lot of people understood him, and as unserious as he is, he genuinely is thankful you not only stayed with him, but gave him friends and family too.

- Shohei, Tendou, Nishinoya, Tanaka, Oikawa

[frannyzooey]

Warriors

Merry Christmas @papurgaatika !! I am your Secret Santa, and I had a blast writing this for you ❤️ We share a first love of Din and writing this made me realize just how much I've missed him! I hope this is everything you wished for and more -- and I hope you have an amazing holiday!! 🎄❄️🎄❄️

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

--

You first spotted him on the outer reaches of the galaxy. 

His beskar armor demanded to be seen, a surprising choice for someone who worked in the shadows. But while the first time you saw him was a flash at the edge of the market, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you. 

He’d been watching you for weeks. 

The bounty on your head was a high one: a disgruntled old boss with a lot of credits, and even more vindictiveness. You’d been skipping from planet to planet, earning anything you could from spare jobs, and stealing whenever you had to. You knew your luck had to run out one day, but you always thought you’d be able to talk your way out of it. 

It’s a misunderstanding, you’d say. Let me tell you my side of the story. 

Just your luck that the bounty hunter who finally caught you wouldn’t budge an inch. 

He was stoic, solid. Impenetrable, just like his armor. The very size of his body intimidated you, but it had nothing on what you felt when he stared. The helmet he constantly wore hid everything from you, and even though you couldn’t see his expression, you still tried to plead your case.

It was like arguing with a wall. 

You pressed, and he remained silent. You explained, and he stood eerily still. You begged, and he said nothing.

Eventually, he admitted that the begging did it. 

That, and the fact that he needed a babysitter – for a child just as stubborn as he was. 

Weeks spent watching the Child and waiting around for him had your nerves strung tight, and sleep pulled at your dry eyes. You knew he was just as tired, but he was being infuriatingly stubborn – as usual. 

“Just take the bed,” he urged. 

“You’ve been out there for over two weeks,” you argued back, gesturing outside the ship. “Not a chance. You need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep in the cockpit.”

“Why, when you could stretch out?” you pushed back. 

His sighs were always these weighted things – thick with impatience, paired with hands on his hips and a tip of his helmet. The sound of it made you cringe when he did it to bounties, made you smile when he did it to the kid – but now, it made you frustrated. Annoyed. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, standing firm. He could be stubborn, but so could you. 

“The kid’s been down for ages, Mando. Take advantage of it.”

“And where will you sleep?” he pressed. 

“On the floor. Up in the cockpit. Wherever.” 

“On the floor?” He stared you down, and it took everything you had not to avert your eyes. 

“Hey,” you called him out. “Don’t try to intimidate me. It’s not going to work.”

He remained silent, and you huffed with annoyance. 

“Please,” you sighed. “I’m tired, you’re tired, the kids asleep. You need rest. Just take the bed.”

You turned to climb the ladder to the cockpit, and his voice stopped you. 

“Want to share it?”

–

Whatever sleep you thought you’d get, you were kidding yourself. 

The hulk of this man was a furnace next to you: the broad span of his shoulders blocking out the hull, the width of his chest shielding you, the bulk of his thighs pressed against your own. Insisting you take the side closest to the wall, you couldn’t even crawl out of the cot to go sleep somewhere else without waking him up – and that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Okay, maybe not the last. 

The last thing you wanted was for him to wake up because you couldn’t stop squirming. 

Paired with the heat of his body, the ache that gathered at the crux of your thighs made it impossible to sleep. It sprouted at his proximity, blossomed at the reminder of his strength, and grew with each of his deep, steady exhales. It pooled in the cradle of your pelvis, flooding through your hips and down. 

Gingerly, you rolled onto your side – but his hips lined up too much with your ass for you to ignore. You tried your other side, but the crook of his neck called to you. You tried your back, and that’s when he spoke. 

“Is something the matter?”

You startled, unaware that he’d been awake this whole time. That kriffing helmet. 

“Can’t sleep, I guess.”

He hummed, the sound going straight to your core. “Not enough space?”

It really wasn’t, but you found yourself not wanting to admit it. It was either this or the cold, uncomfortable cockpit and being curled up next to him was the better option. 

Even if you ended up going mad with want. 

“No,” you replied. “It’s fine.”

He nodded, going still. 

Your eyes ran up the length of his forearm, over the bulk of his bicep. You pictured his arm lifting to rest itself across the dip of your waist, and imagining the weight of it, you let out a shaky exhale. Closing your eyes, you leaned into the fantasy: his hand sliding underneath the band of your thermals, cupping you wholly between your legs. His fingers sliding inside of you with a stretch, your thighs parting to make room for his thick wrist. Slick pooled along your seam and dripped out, and you shifted again on the cot. 

This time, his hand stilled you. 

“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?” 

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want…something else?” 

Your cheeks flooded with warmth, and you turned your head to look at him. “Like what?”

He shrugged, the shadowed round of his shoulder moving in the darkness. “You tell me.”

–

It didn’t take long after that to be buried underneath the bulk of his body. 

Every inch of skin that you dreamt about for months bared for your touch, you couldn’t stop exploring him – the fragrant crook of his neck, the smooth planes of muscle that covered his back, the trim sides of his torso and his soft belly dusted with hair. He seemed to revel in your touch, and you imagined that to be the case, with how often he was covered head to toe. 

His hips fit neatly within the cradle of your thighs, and when he filled you with a swift, precise push forward, a flutter erupted in your belly at the idea that he might fuck like he hunts – with competence and skill. Your back arched off his cot to take him deeper, and he groaned in your ear. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he praised, his knees shifting wider for purchase. His hips kissed the inside of your thighs with every roll forward, his weight spreading them wider underneath his strokes, and your hands splayed across his chest when he pushed himself up on his hands to stroke deeper, harder. Scars littered his chest, memories of his past permanently etched into his skin and something about it tugged at you – the idea that he always came out on top, but paid a price to get there.

Wanting to give him the rest you knew he deserved, you tugged him down on top of you and rolled your bodies until you straddled his lap – a sight that made him hum with appreciation. He tried to sit up to join you, but you pushed him back down. 

“I said you need rest, Mando,” you reminded him of your earlier words, your hips rolling in time with every upwards push of his. The filling heft of his cock had your mouth dropping open, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his eyes were fixed on it. “Let me – let me do the work.”

“Okay,” he eventually agreed, his thumb finding the bud of your clit. A few swipes of his touch had you keening, and he rested his other arm back behind his head, as if getting comfortable to watch the show. “I’ll watch while you make yourself come this time, sweet girl. But the next one?”

You moaned, your hips rocking faster against his – forwards into the swirling pressure of the pad of his thumb, and backwards onto the filling thickness of his cock. 

“The next one is mine.”

–

After that first night, he never let you sleep anywhere else. 

The cot much too small for two bodies, you made do by always being joined in one way or another: your limbs entwined, your body draped over his, his cock nestled inside you. Days and sometimes weeks without him at your side, he stripped bare every time he crawled in next to you, loathe to waste any moment without your skin touching his. 

Your face fit into the crook of his neck perfectly, his arm wrapped around your waist just right. For someone that spent so long by himself, it was clear that he was touch starved, but as you found out, so were you. 

Two lonely stars, colliding in a galaxy. 

You got used to his moods and he got used to yours. A routine came easy: you played the mechanic to his pilot, the babysitter to his parent, the vessel for him to pour his love into. And he did, every chance he could get. 

In the cockpit, poured into your mouth. 

In the hull of the ship, splashed along your back. 

In his cot, every single night, in every single way possible – smeared across your chest, pooled on your soft belly, flooded into the depths of your cunt. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise what happened after that, but it was. 

–

Seated on the edge of the worn exam table, you swallowed hard against a cough that rose in your chest. It tickled the base of your throat, demanding relief and you tucked your face into the crook of your elbow and let out a wet cough, your lungs heavy and sore. 

You had caught it from a bounty, a filthy vagrant that Mando had hauled up the ramp earlier that month. Due to a few choice words that the bounty spit at you, Mando made sure to freeze him (none too kindly) right away, but not before the stranger coughed with force in the small space. 

Not one to see a doctor for his own ailments, you were surprised when he demanded you see one after a couple weeks of the lingering cold. Leaving him waiting in the lobby, you smiled at the immediate berth the other patients gave him when he sat down. 

You picked at your finger, suppressing the urge to cough again. 

The medical droid reassured you. “You’ll be fine. All life signs for you and the child are reading in good condition.”

“The child?” you asked. The kid wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t even here.

“Looks like it’s just a cough. The baby is fine – all vitals are measuring optimal.”

You froze, unable to reply. 

The baby. 

“The…baby?”

The droid laughed, modulated and carefree like their words didn’t just shatter your whole existence. “A couple months along, I’d say. Do you want to listen?”

Gently lifting your tunic, they pressed a monitor to the curve of your stomach and the pulsing heartbeat that met your ears brought instant tears to your eyes. 

“There, there,” the droid soothed, handing you a tissue. “Sounds healthy!”

You walked back to the ship in a daze, your surroundings a blur, your mind stuck on a loop of worry.

He never asked for this. 

This is no life to raise a child in. 

The ship – the ship barely fits the three of you, where the maker is a baby going to go?

The endless questions ate away at you for the rest of the evening, every worst case scenario coming true in your mind. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

On his side facing you, Din (a name he had long ago whispered to you in the darkness of his cot) ran his touch along your arm. He tucked you closer, rubbing your back. “You still feel sick?”

Your cheek rested against the firm heat of his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat – so like the one you heard earlier today. They sounded the same, and tucked safely next to his bulk, you murmured the words into his neck. 

“I’m going to have a baby.”

His visor tilted downwards just as his hand tipped your chin up. He looked down at you, and you wished desperately that you could see his face. Your lip trembled when he said nothing, and he cleared his throat. 

“I…wanted to wait,” he started, and your face crumbled. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, cutting him off. Your voice wavered, and you looked away. “I –”

“Stop.” His commanding voice halted your sentence mid-speech. His hold slid from your chin to your cheek, cupping the soft curve. 

“I wanted to wait,” he repeated, softer this time. “Until we could find someone to do the ceremony.”

Your face scrunched in confusion, and he dragged the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, collecting a stray tear.

“We have a special ceremony we perform, when we bind ourselves to someone for life. It involves…taking our helmet off, so they can see us. So they can know us, better than anyone else.”

Your gaze transfixed on his visor, you held your breath as he reached for the edge of his helmet. 

“You already know me better than anyone else, so…”

He lifted the helmet up, and for the first time, you saw his face. 

He was beautiful – warm, rich brown eyes, ringed with thick lashes. A strong nose, a plush mouth. Stubble that scattered across his cheeks, a moustache that you never would have imagined. His curls were dark and mussed, and you envisioned a baby in your arms with the same color hair. 

The grin that broke across his face was almost as beautiful as the face itself – and every worry you had vanished at the sight of it. 

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, the sound of his real voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. 

"We are one when together, we are one when parted.” He recited the vows and his hand took yours, placing it on his chest. He let his own touch rest along the curve of your belly. “We will share all, we will raise warriors."

You sobbed, and he laughed – a new, treasured sound that made you cry even harder. 

“You have to repeat it,” he teased. 

Focused on his voice – his real voice, the feeling of hearing it for the first time overwhelming you – you took a deep breath, and stared into his eyes. 

“We are one when together, we are one when parted.” A hitch in your breath broke the vow, and he smiled, his fingers splaying across your skin. “We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

[puffleyia]

After Hours || Theodore Nott

Theodore Nott x fem!reader || 2.3k words

Warnings: Unprotected & clothed sex, p-in-v, Theo speaking some Italian (hope the translations are accurate..) yeah, i'm a sucker for that.

Summary: Exams are two weeks time from now. You've made a deliberate effort to steer clear of your boyfriend, Theo. One unfortunate night, he ends up dragging you into an empty classroom and teaches you a lesson worth remembering.

Author's notes: Hellooo, requests are open ! It's a blast writing ab Theo !! I've only gotten back into writing recently after not writing fics for a good while. sorry if i'm slow at churning out fics. I'm busy!

It was roughly two weeks before examinations, and professors have even stopped giving out homework as to focus students’ time on reviewing for their respective subjects. You’ve been studying your ass off in the library day and night, sometimes offering your friends to join in as well. Though, they quickly get bored as they soon offer to do much more interesting things  than studying such as having a go at wizard chess, or exploding snap.

It took a lot of self control not to join them, and it took even more not to just put down your book and see Theo. You had been purposely avoiding him because he would always end up distracting you, one way or another. You always catch him stealing a glance at you, and you would almost squirm at the way he looked at you; severely in discomfort as the tension between you two only continued to rise due to the lack of interaction.

It felt suffocating to say the least, so you even began trying not to even breathe in his direction. Needless to say, the bastard still had his ways. He would sometimes sneak up behind you in the library, as you pore over the shelves, inviting himself in as he grabbed your waist and buried his face in your neck. Another is when he would attempt to ensnare you right after your classes. 

In the end, you always found yourself ending up hiding away in your common room. You would get past him just by the skin of your teeth each time, as he used his cunning words and a dangerous tone that was like poisoned honey.

You thought, or, more like hoped it would be a quiet night tonight, staying up past curfew hours at the library and praying none of the professors nor prefects would catch you. Though perhaps you were too engrossed in Advanced Potion Making to notice the echo of footsteps that slowly grew louder as it drew nearer to you. Your ears simply blanked it out as mere white noise.

It had not even registered yet in your head until you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, as someone sat beside you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, as you could see him faintly through your peripherals. “You’ve been so distant lately, amore,” he says, his tone unhappy and laced with a hint of something else you couldn’t quite make out underneath it. 

“Sorry, Theo, I-I’m only trying to focus on the exams at the moment. I mean, not in a bad way but, if I spend time with you, I’ll only end up distracted,” you say, trying to clarify yourself to him. Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to tell him sooner. He sighs, “I guess I’ll just have to–” he gets cut off as you both stiffen at the sound of someone approaching.

He hastily places a firm hand over your mouth, silencing your protests, and shoves your book, notes, and quill into your arms. Before you could object, he then relocates you two into an empty classroom, hastily and skillfully sneaking around the halls to get there. It looked unkempt, and it seemed as if it were not used regularly either. He finally released you from his grasp as you gasped for air. “Theo! What the he–” you say, as he quickly covers your mouth again. “Shh, you’re gonna get us caught, principessa.” He says in a low voice, in a near-whisper before he lets go again. “Ahem,” you clear up your throat before you speak, “I-I believe I should get going, Theo.” He furrows his brows at that, frowning slightly. You head towards the classroom’s door, before he grabs you by the waist from behind and pulls you in.

“Who said you were leaving, hm? Are you trying to avoid me again?” He says, as he moved the both of you to sit on one of the chairs. You remain in his arms, unable to get out despite your attempts to wiggle out and you end up on his lap. “Theo.” You say firmly, trying to assert yourself to let him know you really are serious about studying. “Mm, fine, since you’re so stubborn. Tell you what, how about I study with you?” He says suggestively, his voice making you feel things you were not supposed to. Not right now at least.

“Really?” You say skeptically, raising an eyebrow. You place your stuff down, with a dull thud as it is placed on the table. Sounding slightly annoyed, he says, “What's with the attitude, hm? Are you doubting me?” “F-fine, then,” you hesitantly agree, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants to be. Alone with him.

“Brava ragazza,” he says, as he rests his head on your shoulder whilst flipping open your book. You can not help but faintly squeeze your thighs together, you didn’t know most of the time what he was saying when he spoke to you in Italian, but you found it incredibly hot when he did. Your actions do not go unnoticed by him, though he was not going to do anything yet. You pick up your quill, your eyebrows knitting together as you attempt to focus on taking your notes. 

“Tell you what, I’ll ask you a few questions to help you. If you get it right, I won’t do anything. If you don't…” He says, his voice trailing off as he does not continue what he was going to say, though the timbre in his voice gave enough implication. You gulp and nod, your throat bobbing as you swallow. You knew you did not really have much of a say, Theo’s done a good job of cornering you. Not to mention the fact he knew you were slightly struggling with potions, too.

“Right then, amore, can you tell me how Golpalott’s Third Law influences the effectiveness and stability of potions?” He asked amusedly, his foot tapping the floor rhythmically. “Uhm,” you say, muttering in an attempt to answer, “Uh, well, it’s... um, when you have a potion with, uh, lots of different poisons, right? So, um, the antidote... it's not just, um, the sum of... wait, no, it's more than that! Yeah, um…” You begin feeling your mouth go dry as the tension in the room fills the air. You feel your heart thump loudly against your ribcage.

“It’s when you have multiple poisons mixed together in a potion, the antidote needs to be more potent or comprehensive to counteract their combined effects.” He says, cockily smirking as he corrects you. Your breath hitches as he takes off your robes and his, tossing it aside as he hikes up your skirt and gropes you. “Theo!” You gasp at his actions. He buries his face on the crook of your neck, as he breathed in your scent before he began kissing it.

“Cazzo,” he mumbles before he spat out another question, “What are the common ingredients and methods used to counteract the effects of different poisons?” You feel the tent in his pants growing, his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “I–” You manage to get out before biting your lip, stifling a moan. You had reviewed this, but lust simply clouded your mind for you to formulate a cohesive answer.

“Um, er.. D-dittany, for uhm, venom,” you say, as Theo continued teasing you, grinding his hips upwards so that you could feel his dick. You moan at the friction on your pussy, feeling your panties get wet. “I..” You slur, unable to say anything further. “Cockdrunk already, cara mia?” He lets out a guttural laugh, bending you over the table and grabbing your hips roughly as he continues grinding his cock on your pussy. 

“Don’t forget, Bezoar, for example–” he grunts, “–is a stone found in the stomach of certain magical creatures like goats. It's known for its ability to neutralise many poisons when ingested. Then there's the Antidote to Common Poisons…” He corrects you, adding more strings of information you probably needed. Though, it was not as if you were paying attention, as you were moving your hips hungrily back onto his dick, only being separated by thin fabric. 

“Merda, might as well just fuck you if you keep getting my questions wrong, principessa.” He says, his voice dangerously low as you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling and the distinct sound of his fly unzipping. You look over your shoulder, watching him intently as he pulls down his dark grey boxers and frees his cock. “Theo, please,” you whine, as he smacks your ass and pushes your panties aside. “I thought you were too busy studying? Maybe I should just leave you to that,” he teases you, tapping his dick on your cunt and rubbing it in between your folds.

“No, please,” you plead, and desperately you pressed yourself onto his cock. “Beg, cara mia,” he husked condescendingly, enjoying humiliating you as he continued teasing your wet pussy. “Please, mmhn–” you moan, “I’m sorry, Theo. I-I need it, please, need your cock,” you whimper, flushed from embarrassment as he finally slipped the tip inside you. He pressed inside, at a gruellingly slow pace. 

“Cazzo, una puttana così sporca, aren’t you huh?” You could not place your finger on a single word he said in Italian, but your pussy definitely could. He groaned loudly as he grew impatient, shoving the rest of his dick into you. His groin pressed flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at that, and with a swift motion, he reached out and clamped his hand over your mouth. “Shh, cara mia,” he whispers sultrily in your ear as he quickly silences you, unwilling for the both of you to get caught.

You let out a few muffled sounds against his hand as he began thrusting into you, slowly drawing out his cock as he slammed it back into you with such force that the table beneath you shook. “Such a slut aren’t you? Merda,” He rasped as he uncovers your mouth, “yes!” you say, as he’s eliciting vulgar moans from you each time he fucked his dick back in.

He slithered his hand down onto your pussy, rubbing your clit. He leans in, grunting, as he kisses your nape. He sucks on your neck, trailing down to your back, leaving red marks as he sealed each one afterwards with a kiss. “Ti senti così maledettamente bene, amore,” he groaned, only setting his pace rougher as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you, hitting your cervix. 

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you whine, as you tried to remain as quiet as you could. Your hands firmly grip onto the edges of the table, your nails digging into it, as he fucks you into oblivion. Tears brim at your eyes, as close them shut. Some teardrops cling onto your pretty lashes, and some flow down your cheek, falling down, staining the pages of your book. He loved watching you cry in pleasure, observing your expressions as he drove himself into you.

He loomed over you, using a hand to cup your jaw to force your head to look up at his face. “Open your mouth, cara mia.” He said, an authoritative tone that rolled off his tongue like butter. You oblige, parting your lips, your tongue lolling out as you do. He spits in your mouth, the hand holding your chin clamping your jaw shut afterwards . “Swallow.”

You do as he says, swallowing his spit as he lets go of your jaw and your head hangs down soon after. With that, he fucks you rougher, his pace frantic. You become nothing short of a moaning mess, he returns his hand to your clit and strokes it rhythmically in time with his thrusts. You let out small whimpers and whines as you feel hazy and drunk on his cock. 

Theo, in an intoxicated trance, mutters a string of curses and praises in Italian. You cry out his name in ecstasy with every jab at your sweet spot as he ploughs into you. You feel a familiar warmth pooling at your stomach, only feeling more pleasurable by the second. “Theo, m’gonna cum, T-Theo,” you babble almost incoherently. He leans in briefly, and in a gravelly tone, “Cum on my cock, cara mia.” He says, letting his breath trickle down your neck.

Spasming around him, you dissolve into pleasure as you see stars. You selfishly clench around his dick, as if you wanted to milk him dry. Cumming all over his cock, you quite literally bury your face into your book, in an attempt to muffle the loud moan you let out as you do. 

His thrusts grow languid and sloppy, hips stuttering unrhythmically as his climax nears. “Want me to cum inside you, principessa?” He husked, now digging his fingers into your hips as he chased his high. “Yes, yes, mhn–” you chant, unable to think straight. “Theo, please,” you pleaded. 

With one final thrust, he groans loudly and buries himself fully inside you and stuffs your pussy with his cum. You felt his cock pulsing inside you, both of you panting as he rode out his orgasm. “Fuck, atta girl,” he says breathily, praising you as he pulls out of your cunt. He watches as you softly moan as you feel white globs of cum trickle out of your folds, dripping down your thighs.

He hastily tucks his cock back into his pants, pulling your skirt back in place as he walks (more like carries) you back to your common room that night before he headed back to his. Well, it was safe to say you definitely got nothing done that night, though he makes it up to you the following afternoon by actually helping you study with potions.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｄｅｌｉｃａｔｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: body piercer!seungmin x chubby!fem!shopassistant!reader (w/ appearances by tattoo artist!stray kids)

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: For the longest time you've dreamed of getting your belly button pierced but you always stop yourself, too shy about your weight to get it done. While working your usual shift at the tattoo shop the resident piercer offers to do it for you, with a bit of meddling from your best friend Changbin, though it turns out that he wants to give you a little or a lot more than just a piercing.

♡ Word Count: 4.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader has some insecurities about her weight, piercings (of course), you're getting your belly button pierced babe so yas there's a needle, strong language, kissing, body worship, unprotected sex, Seungmin has a lil dom moment, grinding, fingering, mirror sex, ass slapping, oral sex (f receiving), pet names (good girl), and otherwise fluffiness.

♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this as a comfort fic for anyone out there who may be struggling with a bad body image day or who might feel like sometimes that they aren't thin enough to wear/do what they want or get the person that they want. My point being that you're a badass bitch who can get whoever and do whatever. If anyone tells you differently they can eat dirt and tell them I said so, babes - xoxo

♡ Part Two Here ♡

Saturday nights at the shop are always your favorite. It’s a little too loud, a little too hectic, but that’s the way you like it. On nights like these you never know who’s gonna step in from the glow of the neon signs and throw you for a loop.

Like the couple making out on one of the couches while they wait their turn to get matching inner lip tattoos. A decision they totally won’t regret when their two week long romance crashes and burns.

Or people like the guy on the phone insisting he come in for a tattoo you know for a fact all of your boys would die before they took on. 

“Look, man, I’m not judging you,” you say, judging him to the fullest extent, “It’s just that most of my guys aren’t gonna tattoo your di—”

“Delivery!” a friendly voice rings out in the lobby.

The front door dings, announcing the arrival of your usual delivery girl. She’s short and bubbly with a bag hooked in each of her wrists, filled to the brim with food. In a hurry as always, she sets them down on the desk in front of you and flashes a sweet smile before scurrying off to her next delivery. You respond with one of your own, hopping off the phone just in time to shout, “Have a good night!”

Without missing a beat, you scoop the bags up and head down the hallway off to your left. Bobbing your head along to the rock music blasting from the speakers overhead, you make your way to the main floor where tattoo guns are buzzing away. 

“Food’s here!” you announce but it’s too late. You’ve already been spotted and Jeongin’s swiping the bag from your right hand before you can dodge him. 

“Ooh, what’s for dinner?” he asks, already hard at work cruising through tonight’s options. 

“What?” Felix yells from the far side of the room. He’s hunched over his table, focused on finishing a tattoo of a butterfly on the ankle of a girl who’s much more interested in him than a tattoo. 

“She said food’s here!” Jeongin mumbles through a mouthful of food. He makes it a few steps back towards his station, hugging the bag like a newborn baby he’ll protect with his life, before Hyunjin intercepts him.

“Give it here!” Hyunjin demands, almost wrestling a stubborn Jeongin for the bag. 

You feel a tugging at the other bag and by the time you turn to see who it is, Minho’s already passing by with Chan, the bag secured in his hand.

Minho digs through it, frowning, “Fuck, they forgot my sauce again.”

“Christopher, can you control your children before they scare off our customers?” you shout after Chan as he grabs his food and settles down at his station. 

Chan leans back in his chair, kicking his feet up. Checking his watch, he grins, “Can’t sorry. I’m on break.”

You roll your eyes, letting out a huff of frustration. Sometimes the real headache isn’t the weird customers, it’s the guys you work for, but you love them so if there ever were a headache you could tolerate this would be it. 

Turning to head back up front, you stop dead in your tracks when you realize that one of the first people to swarm you for dinner hardly looked your way. Backtracking you spot the stray, Seo Changbin, locked in on an intricate chest tattoo and Han laying across his table, whining like this tattoo wasn’t his idea to begin with. 

You skip over to Changbin’s station, quietly admiring the piece over his shoulder. It’s a compass. Highly detailed. Clean lines. The same flawless work you always expect of him. 

“Aah, you’re trying to kill me” Han says, turning to you for sympathy, “He’s trying to kill me.”

Changbin groans, paying him no mind. “Hey, I wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I knew you’d be such a baby about it. 

Han pouts, poking his lip out, “I am not a baby.”

You giggle, shifting to the other side of the table to get a better look. 

“You are such a baby” you tease, poking his lip back in, “It looks really good. Totally worth the pa—oh my god. When did you get that?”

Your gaze drifts from the tattoo and down Han’s torso where shiny, stainless steel jewelry adorns his belly button. 

“A week ago, maybe two?” Han smiles, happy that you noticed. “You like it?”

“Ugh, I love it” you gush, eyes lit up at the sight of it. “I wish I could get one but I can’t.”

Han seems more excited than you at the mention of it. “Why not? You should get one!”

You freeze, unsure how you want to answer this question. You’re mortified of the possible awkwardness of the truth but you’ve been best friends with these guys far too long to lie to them. 

“Well, I haven’t lost enough weight yet to get one but when I do—”

Changbin stops tattooing, shutting his gun off to stare into your soul. “What did I tell you about that? You’re beautiful how you are. Isn’t she beautiful the way she is?”

He poses the question to someone over your shoulder and, as the figure rounds the corner, your heart almost stops beating.

“Hmm? Yeah” Seungmin, the sole piercer in the shop, nods sipping a drink through one of those cute twisty straws. You find pretty much everything the man does attractive but there’s something especially adorable about this. 

He disappears into his room with a simple wave and a nod that makes you weak in the knees. Every guy here is like a brother to you but Seungmin? He’s different. You’ve been head over heels for him, utterly at his mercy, since he started working here.

As far as you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend but you haven’t figured out how to decipher his trademark grumpiness enough to tell if he has a thing for you too. Far too terrified to make the first move, you’ve settled for drooling over your dark haired puppy dog eyed lover from afar. 

Han nudges you with his elbow, struggling to hold back his laughter, “Ooh, you like him.”

You’re about to knee him in the side but he’s saved by Changbin’s execution of a plot he concocted mere seconds ago. You hadn’t noticed that mischievous look on his face but you have now and you don’t like it one bit. 

“Seungmin!” he calls out, flicking his gun on and getting back to work. 

Seungmin appears in the doorway, more preoccupied with his phone than anything Changbin has to say. 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Got time to do a belly button piercing real quick?”

“Depends” Seungmin shrugs, finally looking up from his phone, “Who’s asking?”

“Changbin, no” you mouth, only to be ignored. 

Changbin points to you, bubbling with joy at his evil plan. Seungmin folds his tattooed arms across his chest, looking you up and down.

Suddenly you’re second guessing what you wore today. Some combat boots and a short black dress with lace accents. It’s tight enough to highlight your shape but loose enough to flow a bit when you walk. Is it enough? Is it too much? Why are you even thinking about this?

“You?” Seungmin asks, raising a curious eyebrow. 

Fidgeting with the silver heart locket on your necklace, you muster up the courage to actually face him. 

“I was just, uh, I was thinking about it but I’m working so…”

Changbin chimes in, not letting you weasel your way out so easily, “Jeongin can watch the front desk”

“I don’t even have any jewelry picked out.”

“He has emergency jewelry back there. Don’t you, Seungmin?

Seungmin glances back into his room to check, “I’ve got something for her and my next appointment canceled so I have time if she really wants it.”

With no way out, you take a step towards his room, hesitating for a moment. Seungmin gives you a half smile, more than he offers most people. “Come on. I don’t bite.” Not that you’d be mad if he did. 

Giving in, you push forward, glancing over your shoulder to give Changbin a look that says he’ll pay for this later. Seungmin steps aside, patiently waiting for you to enter his room before shutting the door behind you. You jump a little when the door clicks shut and you hear him laughing at you.

“Nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? No way.” 

You’re lying and he can tell. When you spend your time doing dozens of piercings a day you get good at reading people. Plus the way you’re trembling doesn't exactly make it hard to tell what you’re feeling. 

“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of you, okay?” he reassures you, placing a comforting hand on your forearm. His thumb strokes your inner wrist and suddenly your body's electric.

“Uh, yeah, for sure” you nod, your voice light and airy. 

Seungmin gently squeezes your arm, heading over to his closet to search for something. After a few seconds he pulls out a small fuzzy blanket with a cute Halloween pattern on it. 

“I need you to pull your dress up for the, well, you know” he says, opening the blanket up for you, “But if you’re not comfortable you can cover up with this.” 

“Oh, thanks. That’s really sweet of you.” You try not to seem too impressed, taking the blanket as he turns his back to you, busying himself by doing some prep. 

Hiking your dress up over your stomach, you tuck the blanket around your waist to cover your legs. Staring down at the way your soft belly pokes out, your brain goes into crisis mode. You’d imagined yourself half dressed in a room with Seungmin but this was far easier in your fantasies than in real life. You feel so vulnerable, one of your biggest insecurities laid bare, but there’s no turning back now. You’re in this. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what all that was about?” Seungmin asks, careful not to catch even the slightest peek at you before you’re ready. 

“All of what?” you stutter, your mind temporarily going blank. “Oh, that with Changbin? That was just, I don’t know, I’ve been wanting this for a while but I was putting it off…for reasons.”

“Because you don’t think you’re ‘Beautiful the way you are’?”

You cringe at his question, wishing Changbin hadn’t used such a cliche phrase. You squint your eyes, staring into the distance, imagining all the ways you’ll torture him for getting you into this. 

“It’s not that” you deny, gearing up for another lie but you back down yet again, “It’s kinda that. I don’t know. I’m not really a girl with a flat stomach.”

Seungmin snaps on a pair of black gloves, “Can I turn around now?”

“Mmhmm” you nod, your dress gathered in a tight fist of fabric above your stomach.

He spins around, pulls up a chair, and flops down in front of you in one fluid motion. He twirls a black marker in one hand, popping the top off with his teeth.

“Who told you that you had to be a girl with a flat stomach?” he asks, inspecting your belly button for the perfect spot. “I like your stomach. I think it’s cute.”

The compliment has the heat formerly warming your cheeks spreading through your entire body. You let out an involuntary giggle and he cracks a smile, a full one this time. The first of its kind in shop history. 

“You don’t have to say that to be nice.”

Seungmin marks a point, grabbing a hand mirror to show it to you, “You like it? Yeah? Good. Up on the table.”

You hop up on the table and assume the position. Straight out on your back, hands at your sides. You see it every day. No instruction needed. 

“I wasn’t being nice by the way” he says, that handsome face sliding up next to you. “It is cute. You’re…you’re really cute.”

Feeling himself begin to blush, he slips out of view to sterilize the area and get the needle ready.

“I’m sorry if that was weird. Was that weird?” he rambles, mostly to himself. 

Today’s full of firsts. You’ve never seen him nervous before, you never expected to, but the man’s ears are turning red and he can barely string a sentence together. 

“It’s not weird, Seungmin. You’re really cute too” you say, despite your own nervousness. You’ve been waiting so long to say that. It’s a relief to finally get it out. 

“Now you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. I do think you’re cute. I always have” you confess, “I just never said anything cause I didn’t think you’d like me."

Pinching your skin with a set of forceps, he aligns the needle with the tiny mark above your belly button, “Deep breath in.”

You take a deep breath in and the needle pops through like butter. You feel a quick sting followed by a rush of adrenaline. He slips the jewelry through so seamlessly you hardly feel it and you’re all done. 

“Are you crazy? I’ve liked you forever. Was it not obvious?” he asks, popping off his gloves and taking your hand to sit you up. 

“What? No. It wasn’t obvious. Was it supposed to be?”

Seungmin pauses, truly reflecting upon his attempts at flirting. “I tell you ‘Good morning’ every morning. I tell everyone else to kiss my ass.” 

“So romantic” you joke before noticing how sincere he is about it. 

You instantly wonder if he’s stared at you before the way he does now. The truth is that he has, maybe not in the most obvious moments but every chance he gets. When you’re running late in the morning, hurrying in with iced coffee to win everyone’s sympathy. When you’re all hanging out at Minho’s place and you’re rambling with Han about the dramas you’ve been watching. Or when you’re all out having drinks and you’re simply existing. He has those same stars in his eyes that he does now. Every. Single. Time. 

Realizing how hard he must be staring, he backs his chair up, giving you enough room to move around. Riding high on the thrill of actually going through with your piercing—your thoughts jumbled up by the knowledge that these feelings are mutual—you hop up to check yourself out in the mirror with not a thought given to the fact that the blanket has slipped off.

So here you are, twirling around in front of the mirror with your dress proudly held up. Plush thighs kissing each other. Lacey black panties on full display. A dazzling piece of jewelry dangles from your belly button and your stomach does the happiest jiggle as you delight in your reflection. 

“You like it?” Seungmin asks, coming closer to get a better look.  

“I love it. It’s so pretty” you beam, your gaze drawn to something shifting in the reflection.

Seungmin isn't watching you the same way he was anymore. There are notes of something reminiscent of the former innocence and awe but it’s something different entirely. It’s intense enough that you can feel the air shift in the room. The brown of his eyes seemingly grows deeper the longer he takes in your figure. 

“You can’t look at me like that” you say, your breathing growing shallow as you begin to lose yourself in what you see in the mirror. Watching him watching you. 

“You don’t want me to?” he asks, patiently awaiting your answer.

You don’t feel rushed or pressured. His patience is genuine but his eyes never leave you. They never leave you to question if that look of longing is dedicated to you or not.

You take a deep breath, making one last twirl to face the man that has your pulse racing a mile a minute. It isn’t just the way he watches you that has you on the verge of soaking through your new panties. It’s the way he sits in his chair, slightly tilted back, arms resting on his legs. It’s like he’s waiting for you, that little grin on his lips daring you to come take a seat. 

“I want you to” you say softly enough that you’re unsure if he heard you. 

Seungmin glides closer to you in his chair, stopping when his knees barely graze your legs. He leans forward, fingertips tracing the outline of your thighs, “You want me to what?”

As he asks the question, his breath tickles the surface of your skin and you shiver at the sensation.

“I want you to…aah” you gasp as his hands grip the tender flesh of your ass, pulling you in close enough for his lips to meet your stomach. He kisses it carefully and lovingly, taking his time to let his mouth and hands explore all of the softest, fluffiest parts of you. 

“You want me to…what?” he asks, tugging you down into his lap, his lips still wet from kissing your body. It makes it all the more tempting to kiss him. Surrendering to your impulses, you pull him into a kiss so ravenous and full of need that it leaves his head spinning in the best way. 

You were meant to come in here for a piercing. That was it. Now you’re straddling his lap with your fingers in his hair while his tongue’s halfway down your throat.

Slipping his hands back under your dress, he rests them on your hips, pressing you down into his lap to show you just how hard you've gotten him. Your panties are more soaked than you notice, making the material thin enough that you can feel it all. The thickness of his cock, the texture of his pants, grinding against your sensitive core, bumping your clit each time he raises his hips.

A moan escapes your lips. A weak, cute little thing that only makes him want you more. He breaks from the kiss, charting a course down your neck to tease the curves of your breasts with his tongue. 

“Who told you that you could be this sexy?” 

“I don’t know” you giggle, a small glimmer of your former shyness coming through, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he tilts you just enough to give him the space to stroke your clit through your panties, forcing more and more of those sensual moans to pour out of you. 

“Just promise me you won’t stop” Seungmin begs, tucking your panties to the side to pet your dripping slit. “Keep being this sexy…this fucking cute…this—fuck.” He sinks his fingers into your core and you swallow them up eagerly, clenching tightly around them. 

You throw your head back, your back arched in pleasure. You know without looking that he’s watching you again. You know he’s getting off on how your breasts bounce each time you grind down onto his fingers, your pussy so wet that his whole hand’s slick with your juices. 

Seungmin navigates your body like magic, picking up on your most tender spots and knowing just when to hit them to make you tremble the way you did when you first stepped into this room. 

Cradling his cheeks in your palms, you come face to face with him, and say to him in the sweetest tone, “Fuck me already.”

Taking you into his arms, he sweeps you up out of the chair, and sets you down on the edge of the table. 

“Oh god, I didn’t know you could do that” you gasp, stunned that he could pick you up. You knew that Seungmin was fit, something more than obvious by the toned body your eyes are graced with when he pulls his shirt off. But fit enough to pick you up like you’re nothing? Now that you didn’t expect. 

“What? You didn’t expect me to be strong? I’m hurt” he pouts, pretending to be offended but not too offended to help you wiggle your dress up over your head. 

You slide back on the table and right out of your panties. “Get up here and I’ll make it better.” 

You spread your legs and he’s right in between them, leaving a trail of kisses behind as he makes his way up to a pussy wet enough to glisten in the glow of the overhead light. He can’t resist having a taste, humming at the deliciousness of your arousal dancing on his taste buds.

The tip of his tongue meets your clit, flicking it slowly at first then picking up an unforgiving speed. Your hands find his hair again and you’re writhing on the table, choking back moans with your fingers tangled in the back of his head.

The slurping sounds that fill the room make you want to cum right now. In his mouth. Down his chin. All over that gorgeous face of his. And he’d welcome it happily. Beg you to give him more even. That’s how badly he wants you. How badly he’s always wanted you. 

Seungmin’s mouth deserts you unexpectedly, leaving your walls spasming and your stiffened bud twitching in his absence. “Add that to the list of things you can’t stop doing” he whispers, crawling on top of you.

You’re beautiful from any angle, there’s not one he can think of where you aren’t, but this has to be his favorite. You look so perfect underneath him. Right where you should be. 

“Getting eaten out?” you ask, planting a kiss on his shiny pink lips. 

“I meant tasting so good but…” he muses, the head of his cock throbbing at your entrance, “I can make sure that happens too.”

That first bit of contact, the very first time you feel his cock raw against your pussy, has you purring. Seungmin feeds you just the tip at first, stretching you out little by little, loving everything about how your body reacts to him. Running your nails across his back, you raise your hips, whining for more. 

“What are you whining for, baby?” Seungmin teases, giving you one inch after another, “Is this it? This what you want?” 

“Aah, yes, I want it. More please. Please” you plead, your eyes growing glossier the wider you’re stretched. 

It crosses his mind to spend more time teasing you just a little bit, it’s in his nature to be a bit of an asshole after all, but you feel way too good to play games with. You fit him like a glove and with every thrust he becomes more and more convinced that you must’ve been made for him. 

“You’re so perfect” he praises, massaging your curves, “Fuck, I love your body. Your face. Your everything.”

Soaking in the praise and the ecstasy of his length dragging along the ridges of your core, you could swear that you were glowing and, actually, you are. Glowing in his adoration and, courtesy of an accidental glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a fair share of your own. 

Seungmin catches you looking at yourself and smiles, pounding into you harder. “Don’t look away” he instructs, holding your head in place, “Have you ever seen how pretty you are when you cum?”

“N…no” you manage, biting down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming at the tremors each thrust sends through your body. 

“Good, we’ll see it for the first time together then.”

Using his free hand, he grips one of your thighs, pressing your leg back so that he feels even deeper than before. The force is powerful enough that you feel it in your chest, vibrating down to your fingertips.

You can’t take your eyes off of your reflection, he won’t let you. Your body moves so beautifully when he’s fucking you that he needs you to see it how he does. You need to see the way your tits bounce and your hips jiggle as the tension builds up inside of you and you’re choking back moans with his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Seungmin doesn’t need you to tell him how close you are. Your body gives him every cue he needs. The tightening of your muscles. The stuttering of your breath. The legs wrapped around his waist, making sure he keeps punishing your sweet spot, pushing you further and further to your breaking point. 

“Mmm, coming. I’m coming” you moan, letting your high wash over you. 

He kisses you on the cheek, refusing to let up on you. “Look at you, coming all over my cock” he coos, committing every face you make to memory, “Such a good girl.” 

The vision of you is almost too much. Your legs spread out, your brain all fuzzy, your body overstimulated, and your juices pooling on the table below. He can’t hold back anymore. He can’t ignore the tightness and the warmth of your velvet walls fluttering around him. 

“Oh fuck” he hisses, pulling out just in time to coat your swollen pussy in a thick glaze of his cum. It’s hot and tingly on your clit, tickling as it drips between your folds. 

You stroke his back, comforting him on his way down from his high and he does the same for you, his fingertips running up and down your thighs. The room falls into silence. Not an awkward one but one of comfort. One where you hold each other as long as you want. Not minding the heavy breathing or the sweaty bodies. Just enjoying being together before it dawns on the two of you that you’re both still at work. 

“Shit, shit, shit! The front desk is definitely on fire by now”  you fuss, rushing to throw your clothes back on. 

Seungmin’s not nearly in as much of a rush as you are. He’s having too much fun watching you freak out to care about if there's a bunch of agitated customers waiting up front or not. 

Grabbing you by the wrist, he spins you into a hug that calms you down in an instant. 

“So what if it is?” he asks, brushing your hair out of your face, “I have to ask you something important first.”

“Important? Important like what?”

“Important like I know we don’t close until 2am tonight but could I see you after, maybe?"

You shrug, acting like you don’t care when you’re literally screaming on the inside, “I guess so.” 

“It’s like that? You ‘guess’ so?”

Seungmin slaps your ass and draws you into a kiss that has you ready to drop your panties for him for a second time. 

“Fine. I more than guess. I’d love to see you later” you blush, playfully pinching his cheeks, “I’ll wait for you up front then?”

He nods, getting one last squeeze out of you before turning you loose. “Let me see it one more time.”

Knowing exactly what he means, you take a step back to flash him your new piercing. 

“Yup, still very hot” he winks, casually leaning against the table he just fucked your brains out on. 

You smooth your dress back out, giggling as you skip back out onto the floor to find that everyone’s staring at you. Machines are buzzing but no one’s actually doing any work. Even the customers are staring at you waiting to see what happens next. 

Clearing your throat, you hold your head high, and march across the floor. You manage to hide your excitement just long enough to make it back to the hallway where your joyful squeals can flow freely. You can’t remember the last time you felt this excited about something. About someone. About yourself.

You aren’t too big for a belly button piercing. It looks sexy as fuck on you, you must admit. And you aren’t too big for Seungmin who happens to look sexy as fuck on you too. You feel beautiful the way you are, truly, and there’s a boy sitting at his station, too busy thinking about you to get anything done, that thinks so too. 

[slayfics]

Katsuki picks you up after a fight with your boyfriend.

700 words

The hum of the engine filled the silent car, the sound of the road was like an angry beast under the tiers.

“I don’t need any more negative energy you know,” you stated to Katsuki.

His knuckles were white from death gripping the steering wheel. He knew you were going through a lot, but that did little to put out the overwhelming rage inside him.

Katsuki sucked in air through his teeth. “It’s taking everything in me not to blow that fucker up. You understand that right?”

“I know, that’s why I didn’t want to call you. But I didn’t know what else to do. My phone was going to die, and you were the closest one around,” you explained.

You had called Katsuki early in the morning, after a heated fight with your now ex-boyfriend. Too many drinks led you both into an argument that you couldn’t even remember. Your only memory was waking up in an empty hotel room with no way to get home. Phone on its last legs, with no charger in sight being that your boyfriend had packed it before he left.

“What the hell you two even fight about?!” Katsuki asked, pinching the bridge of his nose before running his hand down his face.

“I told you I don’t remember,” you answered.

“How fucking much did you drink?!” he questioned, his anger filling the aura of the car.

“Too much,” you responded honestly.

“So, you’re telling me you were black-out drunk when that fucker left you alone?!” He barked.

“I was in a hotel room not on the street,” you tried to rationalize.

“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN! HE DIDN’T TAKE CARE OF YOU!” Katsuki yelled.

“I’m the one that drank that much, I’m responsible for my alcohol consumption. And I’m not a child that needs to be taken care of. Besides, I’m sure I said some nasty things to him while I was drunk.” You spoke.

Katsuki scoffed; it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself contained. “So?! You said some mean words to him? Boo-fucking-hoo. Is he such a pussy that he can’t take a few words?! I don’t give a fuck how mad you made him. HE. LEFT. YOU.”

“You’re being unreasonable. This is why he never liked you,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, he’s going to like me even fucking less the next time he sees me,” Katsuki spat with an almost sinister chuckle.

“Kats stop.” You pleaded.

“No! You stop defending him! This isn’t fucking ok! And I’ll fucking kill you if you forgive him and take him back! You understand that right?! YOU called me! YOU got me involved. So now this is how things are going to go. You’re going to get your shit, then you’re gonna get your ass back in this car, and you’re never going to see him again,” he concluded.

“What?! No take me home! I don’t want to see him yet!” You argued.

“Fuck no. If I do that, he’ll give you some sob story when you two are alone and you’ll take his sorry ass back. You’re ending this NOW.” Katsuki said authoritatively.

“It’s going to make more problems if you show up dropping me off!” You exclaimed.

“Good. Let that asshole see that when he leaves you alone other men are willing to step up. It’s his funeral if he’s got something to say to me,” Katsuki spoke, words laced with venom.

You breathed in trying to find words to break through to Katsuki, when you noticed your ex’s place coming into view. “Wait, I didn’t tell you where he lived. How did you know where to go?!” You questioned.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. I’m a top pro hero, of course, I watch out for the people I give a crap about. You told me enough shitty stuff about him already… I knew it was only a matter of time before I got a call to come to rescue you,” Katsuki explained pulling up into the driveway. “Now go get your shit. You have 10 minutes before I come blasting in to check if you’re ok.”

“Wow. My hero,” you said sarcastically rolling your eyes before getting out of the car and slamming the door behind you.

“Always,” he smirked.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay

[speakingsoftly]

Dying For You

Bakugou x f!reader

tags: angst, death mention, hospital environment, happy ending, confessions, cussing, some suggestive parts, not proofread

word count: 3.1k

I have no medical knowledge what's so ever and don't really wanna fact check so don't judge the inaccuracies. Also I may make a part two later but I just wanted to post this one first. Let me know what ya think!

“I’d die for you.”

Those words echo through Bakugou’s head as he watches you take the hit meant for him. He watches you collapse to the ground, blood beginning to pool around you, and he freezes. All these years of hero training and rescuing, even after fighting in the worst war ever, he still freezes when he sees you go down. He watches as Kirishima takes down the villain who was caught off guard by your sudden movements. He watches as Midoriya runs to your side, checking your pulse. He sees Midoriya freeze before quickly beginning CPR. 

He’s brought back to Earth when the medics push past him and begin assessing you. He sees one take over CPR from Midoriya while another begins to try to stop the blood pooling out of you. He quickly runs to your side only to be pushed away. He’s about to curse the medic out when a hand grabs him. Midoriya pulls Bakugou away and begins speaking, but he can’t listen. Not as he’s watching medics try to bring you back to life. He’s about to move again when he sees you inhale and the medics start taking you to the ambulance.

“Bakugou! Pay attention!” The loud yell in his ear turns him away from you. Midoriya is standing next to him, a hardness to his face Bakugou can’t even begin to decipher. He’s even more confused when Midoriya swings his arm back and punches him in the face. Bakugou staggers back, not expecting the hit, and certainly not expecting Midoriya to yell at him again. 

“You need to get your shit together! If you want to be there for her, fucking act like it. Y/n’s strong but that was a heavy hit. She’s going to need a lot of help and she’s going to need you. So pull yourself together and go to the hospital. We’ll be there once we finish here.”

Bakugou remembers a time when Midoriya couldn’t even look at him. Now he’s being shoved in the direction of the ambulance who are beginning to shut the doors. He shakes his head and blasts himself to the ambulance. They quickly shove him in before focusing back on you. 

You were breathing now, although oxygen was still being fed to you by a medic. Bruises litter your body, but the biggest injuries remain on your abdomen and the large gaping hole left in it. The villain pierced your body with his arms, having some kind of extendable drill quirk. The medics have packed it with gauze and were putting pressure on it. He couldn’t do anything but sit in the corner of the ambulance and let the medics do their jobs. 

Within minutes, they were ushering you out of the ambulance, doctor’s taking over and taking you away. Bakugou follows, uncharacteristically quiet. He knows he should be asking what’s happening, trying to find out more, but… He’s just numb. All he can do is watch them take you away as the memory of you saying you’d die for him plays in his mind once more.

It was a month prior, at Mina’s monthly get together. They were chatting around a fire in her and Kiri’s backyard, drinking and laughing. He remembers you pulling him away for a breather. Your hand was small compared to his, but still had the same calluses. A testament to both of your lines of work as heroes.  

You took him inside to the kitchen, refilling both of your drinks. You sat on the counter and pulled him towards you, the prior drinks making you bolder. He lets himself get pulled and settles between your legs with his hands on your hips. You giggle at his slight flush and use the proximity to run your hands through his hair. 

“It’s softer than I expected,” you murmur, enthralled. He just hums and watches as you continue playing with his hair. 

“Ya know, villain’s have been more rampant lately. It’s surprising that we’ve managed to get this time off considering last month half of us were busy working.”

He nods as he thinks back to your disappointed voice as he called to tell you he wouldn’t make that months get together due to having to work overtime to cover for one of his sidekicks who just had a baby.  Technically, he didn’t have to but he wanted to. You didn’t know that though. He needed that extra work to help him sort through his thoughts and feelings towards you. Now, he’s more settled. He knows he loves you and doesn’t want to shy away from it, but still not quite ready to confess. 

“Hey Kats?” 

“Yea?”

“I’d die for you.”

Bakugou freezes at your words before gripping you tighter. You hiss in pain and he mutters an apology before responding to your statement.

“Y/n… don’t say shit like that. Ya won’t die for me. I won’t allow it. Now just, shut up.” 

It wasn’t the most eloquent choice of words, but Bakugou always struggled voicing his thoughts. You seemed to get his meaning and smiled. Then, you leaned down and kissed him. He quickly began to kiss back. But once he tasted the alcohol on your tongue, he pulled away. You whined in disappointment which sent blood straight down for him as he began to think of you whining for a completely different reason-

“Let’s wait until we’re both sober to continue, m’kay sweetheart?”

You sighed and jumped down from the counter, stumbling slightly into his arms, before continuing back to the party. He took a deep breath, taking a detour to the bathroom to calm down. The next day, neither of you spoke about what happened, you were seemingly too drunk to remember. Bakugou remembers swallowing his disappointment and trying to forget the taste of your lips, to no avail. 

It’s been hours since you were swept away into surgery. The others have all arrived by now, the hospital staff not too happy about having a bunch of heroes crowding their waiting room, but also understanding why they were all there. They were scattered about, Jirou sitting with Kaminari, Mina with Kiri and Sero, and Midoriya was seated next to Bakugou. 

Bakugou still hasn’t said anything to anyone. Midoriya tried, but was ignored. The others took the hint, but Bakugou could still feel the worrying glances every now and then. He could hear them muttering, all of them aware of the feelings and tension between the two of you. 

Finally, a doctor comes toward them. He feels himself stand up before any of them, desperation for news evident on his face. The doctor starts with the good news after looking at everyone’s faces.

“She’s alive.” 

An exhale of relief echoes throughout the room at that.

“But,” they all inhale, “she lost a lot of blood and a solid minute of oxygen deprivation to her brain. We’ve managed to stop the bleeding and restore her organs, but the minute will be the deciding factor. Physically, it will be a long process and she will heal. But right now, it’s a matter of if she will wake up.”

Nobody speaks at that. All of them were trying to digest the news he just told them, some already beginning to cry again.

It’s a matter of if she will wake up. It’s a matter of if she will wake up. It’s a matter of if she will wake up It’s a matter of if she will wake up It’s a matter of-

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The doctor looks at Bakugou, no surprise on his face, as if he was expecting this reaction. Bakugou can see Midoriya reach out to him out of the corner of his eye, but he slaps his hand out of the way and steps towards the doctor.

“The fuck you mean ‘a matter of if she’ll wake up’? It’s your job to make sure she wakes up. You’re supposed to help her, goddammit! She can’t just die like that! Fucking heal her already!”

Kirishima and Midoriya grab onto Bakugou, trying to drag him out. The doctor sighs and begins to talk once more.

“Dynamight, sir. I understand this is hard news to hear. While we have an assortment of healers at our disposal, Y/n is too weak currently to effectively use those healers. And with the inability to test her brain function until she wakes up, unfortunately we have done everything we can for now. I know that is not the news you want to hear, but it is all I can offer you at the moment.”

Bakugou slumps down at the doctor’s words. His shoulders begin to shake as he sobs. He collapses on the ground, Kiri and Midoriya too surprised to hold on to him. The doctor excuses himself, letting the heroes have this moment as privately as they can. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Bakugou yells as he pulls his hair. Snot and tears cover his face but he ignores it. He feels someone wrap their arms around him but he weakly shoves at them. They stagger slightly before trying again and this time he leans into it. 

“She’ll be ok, Bakugou. She’s strong and powerful. She’ll wake up,” Kirishima says in his ear. Bakugou only sobs into Kiri’s shoulder and grips him tightly. He feels the others move behind him and pat him on the back or put a hand on his shoulder. They crowd together, taking solace in each other and praying to whatever was out there that you would wake up soon. 

Bakugou must have fallen asleep at some point as he wakes up later awkwardly laid across 4 waiting room chairs. The others are slumped in the other chairs, either sleeping or half asleep. He sits up carefully, not wanting to disturb the others. Stretching, he goes to stand up when he sees the doctor show up again. He waits, not knowing if this will be good or bad news and not wanting to stand if it’s bad news. The doctor walks over to him and smiles.

“She’s awake.”

Those two words startle him and he jerks up, completely forgetting to be quiet. The chair he was sitting on screeches back and wakes the others. The doctor repeats his words before giving more information.

“It is very early, but her prognosis so far looks good. She can speak a little and seems to remember who she is and the events that led to her injury. I am worried about motor control, but that isn’t something we can focus on until she heals more.”

Kaminari is the one who speaks this time.

“Um, hey doc. Can we, can we see her?”

“I am only allowing one other person right now. Any more might overwhelm her and she is still in a very fragile state right now. You can decide that amongst yourselves. As for the others, go home. Get some rest and shower. If she remains stable throughout the night, you can take turns visiting tomorrow. Once you’ve decided who will stay, let a nurse know and she will bring you to Y/n’s room and have a cot prepared as well.”

They nod and the doctor leaves. Silence embraces them for a moment as they breathe in relief at the news you were awake. Sero’s the one who breaks the silence.

“Well, we all know who’s staying so why don’t the rest of us head out. Bakugou’ll let us know if anything happens and we need to be rested in case we get called in.”

The others nod and begin to leave when Bakugou speaks up.

“You’re all just… leaving? Not even gonna fight to stay?” He says, anger lacing his voice. They look around nervously. Midoriya is the one that ends up speaking up.

“Kacchan, we all care for Y/n. But you love her. And we know that this has… affected you the most, so you're the obvious choice to stay. Plus if she sees you first, she’ll be less likely to worry and actually focus on healing.”

Bakugou is surprised at that and glances at the others to find them nodding in agreement. He pauses before nodding and waving them off before going to the nurses station. The nurse leads him to your room and leaves before returning with a blanket and pillow and motions him to the cot placed across the room. He barely remembers to nod in thanks as he stares at you. Attached to multiple machines, you looked more like a robot than a person. But you were awake. 

“K-kats?” Your voice is hoarse from disuse and having a tube shoved down your throat from earlier. He snaps out of it and rushes to your side, throwing the pillow and blanket in the cot’s general direction. 

“Hey, I’m here,” he says, his voice rough but quiet, “I’m here.” 

You smile at him and reach for his hand. He flinches and moves his hand away. You pause, not sure how to react to his sudden aversion to your touch.

“Did I- Kat’s what’s wro-” A cough interrupts you as your throat is too dry and painful. Bakugou quickly grabs water and pours it for you, tilting it to your lips. You greedily drink and hum in thanks once you finish the cup. 

“Katsuki, talk to me. What’s wrong?” You ask once you're settled again. Bakugou can only scoff.

“The hell you mean what’s wrong? Are you fucking serious?” He barks out, the familiar anger beginning to rise within him. You only stare at him in confusion before continuing.

“Look, I know that must’ve been scary, but I’m ok. The doc said my prognosis is good as long as I remain stable. And plus-” He cuts you off before you can finish.

“Don’t fucking comfort me! You’re the one who nearly fucking died because I was too slow! You took a hit meant for me and almost died for it. Fuck! You took a hit that resembled mine from the war and, and it scared the shit outta me, Y/n. I almost lost you, and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing. I froze while you lay dying on the ground!”

His voice rose the more he spoke. A nurse walked in having heard the commotion, but you waved her away without him noticing. He was pacing back and forth at the foot of your bed, his hero suit weighing down on him. He took his gauntlets off, but everything else was still on. You sat quietly as Bakugou vented his feelings, only just realizing the extent of his pain and fear at your injury. 

“I told you last month to not fucking die for me and you go ahead and do it anyway! It was fucking reckless and stupid! You mean too damn much to me and I can’t lose you, ok? Fuck, I- I fuck!” He takes a deep breath and looks at you.

“I love you. I’m in love with you or whatever. And today fucking scared the shit out of me. So don’t- don’t sacrifice yourself for me. I don’t want your sacrifice. Do that shit again and I’ll kill you myself.”

His voice goes quieter at the end, seemingly worn out and becoming nervous about his confession. He turns his gaze downward, not wanting to see your reaction. 

“Kats, c’mere,” you say and pat the space on the bed next to you. He shuffles over, acutely aware of your body next to his and how small you seemed in comparison with all the wires hooked to you. You grab his hand and bring it to your heart. He can feel it pumping strongly and some tension releases from his shoulders.

“I’m alive. I’m going to make it through this, I promise. And… I’m sorry. It’s like what everyone says, my body moved before I could think. I just saw you and I saw the villain aim towards you and it just brought me back to the war and all I could think was ‘I can’t lose him again’ so I jumped in front of you.”

You bring your hand that’s not holding his and hold it on his cheek. He leans into it, desperate to feel you. 

“ ‘S still fuckin stupid,” he whipsers against you palm before placing a kiss on it. You laugh slightly before responding.

“Yea, it was pretty fuckin stupid. But we’re both alive so I call it a win.” 

Bakugou shakes his head at that, looking at you and goes to say something but you beat him to it.

“I love you too. I realize now I didn’t respond, but I do love you,” you say, heat rising to your cheeks. He looks at you, emotions running rampant on his face. He finally settles on one and you watch as his eyes darken slightly and his eyes glance towards your lips. You swallow at his intense gaze and watch his eyes trace the expanse of your throat before returning to your lips then your eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, “Please?”

You can only nod, not being able to speak after hearing the breathy whine in his voice. He leans down, careful of all the wires and places his hand against your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses a soft kiss to your lips before slowly deepening it. You can tell he’s holding back as he grips your hand and face tight but not enough to hurt. You move your hand from his face and into his hair as the other tightens around his hand. He gasps in your mouth when you pull his hair slightly and you use the chance to slip your tongue in his mouth. You fight for dominance but he soon wins. Then he’s pulling away. You whine in disappointment which causes him to smirk. 

“Sorry, sweetheart but we are in the hospital and you are hurt. No goin farther until you're all healed up,” he says, his chest rising heavily. You sigh and settle back into your pillows. A smile laces your face as you watch him try to regain composure, happy to have such an effect on him. 

“Fine, fine. Can you at least lay by me? I’m cold,” you respond after a moment. You weren’t that cold, but you wanted him closer. He hesitates as he glances at your side and all the machinery. Instead of moving closer, he walks to the end of the room and drags the cot closer to your bed. You glare at him as he shrugs off his uniform until he’s left in his pants and undershirt.

“This is the best I can do. I don’t, no I can’t hurt you or mess anything up. You’re still in a fragile state, Y/n,” Bakugou mutters softly. You soften your eyes as you realize he is still struggling with seeing you like this. You only nod and reach out your hand. He takes it and lays down on the cot next to you. 

“Goodnight Katsuki.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[obsessedwithceleste]

Love on Lockdown

Blaise Zabini x reader

Summary: You’ve been locked in with Blaise Zabini one too many times for this to all be accidental

word count: 3k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You had never had an issue with Blaise Zabini. Sure you had never been best friends or the like as he had always been one of the more reserved and quiet ones of the group, but you still enjoyed his company. One might even say you admired the boy’s subtle charm, tact, and top marks in your year. The handsome face didn’t hurt either. All that to say is there were definitely worse people to be locked in the bloody potions ingredient closet with.

“Damn it. The potion will go bad and we’ll have to restart the whole thing if it sits too long,” Blaise grunts, shoving at the door as it scrapes stubbornly against the floor.

The two of you had been taking advantage of the extra credit assignment offered in your potions class, staying late to brew a simple calming draught. All would have been well if not for a certain poltergeist with a penchant for causing mayhem.

It had started with Peeves serenading the both of you with an almost 30 minute long rendition of Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. In opera. When it was clear you both still had most of your sanity in tact, the poltergeist switched tactics to swiping your ingredients when you weren't looking. But this, this really took the cake.

Really you probably should have seen it coming. It was right up Peeves' alley to pull a stunt like this, yet, like fools, you and Blaise had stupidly walked into the ingredient storeroom together in search of another crocodile heart as Peeves had sent the last one flying out the window. As soon as you were inside, the door was swung shut with a loud clang and a gleeful shriek from the meddlesome poltergeist.

“That stupid little- Peeves let us out!" You shout, banging on the door.

It's no use however as you here the poltergeist's laughter fade away.

"I should've let Draco and Matt hex that bloody ghost when they had the chance” you huff in annoyance.

Turning, you light your wand as you browse the shelves. “Aha!” Reaching up, you pluck a wrinkly, rock looking item off the shelf. “One crocodile heart.”

“Wonderful. Lot of good it’ll do us while we’re in here, and our potion is out there.” Blaise mutters, pointing his wand at the door’s lock again.

You ignore him, going instead to examine the door yourself.

“It’s not locked, just jammed shut,” Blaise says, leaning back.

“How cross do you think they’ll be if we just blast the thing off its hinges?” You ask, examining the rusted metal.

“You’re joking. You’ve been spending far too much time with Matt and Draco. That’s a horrible i-“

“Diffindo”

With two clean flicks of your wand, the door is off its hinges and on the ground with a loud thud. The both of you look at the door, then at each other.

“Well, at least we won’t have to start the potion over,” you say finally, stepping over the fallen door and making your way over to the potion station where your project is still a glistening shade of blue.

“Bloody hell,” you hear Blaise mumble as he joins you.

You almost miss the sly smile he tries to suppress.

“Do try not to get yourself all locked up,” Mattheo shouts after you with a cackle as you make your way toward the old shack that housed the Hogwarts quidditch supplies.

“Oh remind me why I volunteered to help you again?” You shout back, flipping the boy off. Rancid bastard.

Ever since you and Blaise had, against both of your better judgement, told your friends what had happened that day in the potions classroom that landed you both a week’s detention, they hadn’t let you forget it. Propping the door open with an old broom, you begin digging through the old junk. You didn’t even know why they found it so amusing. Realistically the whole situation had only lasted a few minutes at most, hardly note worthy in your opinion. On top of that, it had been several weeks since the incident. Initially you had thought it would blow over rather quickly, but here Mattheo was, still poking fun at it.

The only silver lining of the whole situation was that you and Blaise had actually begun seeing each other outside of group settings in order to escape the near constant teasing. It was strange. You couldn’t remember another time they were this caught up on a bit.

“Need help?”

Feeling a light tap on the shoulder and with the sudden noise, you let out a yelp, backing into the rack behind you. A box of quaffles goes flying, dislodging the broom holding the door in place, and slamming the door shut.

“Sorry,” Blaise says awkwardly, glancing around the cramped shed guiltily.

“Oh it’s fine. Just spooked me a bit is all. Didn’t hear you come in,” you reply as you continue your search through the jumbled supplies.

“I’d be surprised if we actually find any more beater’s bats in here. Mattheo has been running through the things lately. Has to be the third one broken this month,” Blaise comments as he begins to help rummage about.

“Maybe he should start taking notes from your book then. You haven’t busted through a single bat yet this season, but somehow Mattheo is single handedly running Quality Quidditch Suppiles out of supplies,” you reply in exasperation.

Blaise lets out a small laugh. He’d been doing that a lot more lately; and every time, you could feel your heart start pounding in your chest.

“That’s what I’ve been telling him, but you know how he is. Doesn’t listen to shit. Oh look!”

Before you have the chance to turn to see what he’s on about his chest presses against you as he reaches up and over you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see his toned, muscular arms around you and you try not to stare.

“Probably the last set in this dump,” Blaise says, pulling a box of the very top shelf.

You take a gulp, composing yourself.

“Oh perfect. Let’s get out of here,” you reply, turning to open the shed door.

It doesn’t budge. You try again, harder this time. Nothing.

“Oh for Salazar’s sake,” Blaise mutters, dropping the box on the floor as he too tries shoving the door open.

“They are so never going to let us live this down,” you groan as you both pound on the door.

After a minute you both slump to the floor, staring up a the blasted wooden rectangle. You look at the door, then at Blaise, and slowly begin to reach for your wand.

“I could always just-“

“Absolutely not. One week of detention with Snape was enough for me, thanks,” Blaise interrupts, snatching your wand from your hand.

“Oh, I was only joking. Mostly. I’ll be careful this time,” you protest, leaning over to snatch your wand back. “Come on, give it back.”

Blaise just leans away further, another laugh escaping him as he holds your wand further out of reach.

“Blaise, please,” you laugh, leaning into him further.

It only takes a moment for your eyes to meet his, and for his eyes to flicker down to your lips before you realize just how close the two of you are. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he lets out an awkward cough, pulling away slightly.

“Sorry.” Blaise clears his throat, handing your wand back. “Anyway, we’ve been gone a bit, the others’ll come looking for us. No point blasting the door down.”

“Right,” you agree, suddenly finding the ground to be rather fascinating.

Shockingly, it doesn't take the rest of the day for your friends to come and rescue you, but you don't particularly care for the look on Mattheo's face when the door to the shed is finally pried open.

"Not one word Riddle."

“Do you hear that?” You ask, stopping in your tracks as you try to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.

“What, the cat screaming bloody murder?” Blaise asks seeming rather uninterested.

The two of you were on your way down to the library to study for the upcoming charms exam. And also to escape the chaos that seemed to follow Mattheo and Draco wherever they went.

“Yes, but listen. That’s Pansy’s cat. Darn thing probably got itself stuck in one of the passage ways again,” you sigh, making your way over to the wall of paintings that the meows of distress seemed to be coming from.

“That sounds like Pansy’s problem if you ask me,” Blaise says, but he still follows you over.

“You see a cat sneak through here?” You ask a painting of a rather disgruntled looking knight.

“Yeah. Blasted thing ‘as been screaming behind ‘ere for ages,” he replies.

“We’ll get him, open up.”

“Wouldn’t if I were you, but suit yourselves,” the knight says matter of factly before swinging open to reveal a narrow passage way and Pansy’s cat scratching manically at the walls.

You gesture for Blaise to follow you as you step over the threshold, coaxing the cat towards you. It only takes a bit of convincing before the grey tabby is securely in your arms. As you go to leave however, you find that your feet are strangely locked in place.

“What the-“

Next to you, Blaise tries taking a step towards the exit as well, only to find that he too was locked in place.

“For the love of fucking Salazar, you’ve got to be joking,” he says finally after a bit of struggle.

“What do you think it is? Epoximise?” You ask, straining to try and see if you could see anything sticking you in place.

“Likely. Would be nice right about now to be studying for that charms exam so we knew how to undo it.”

You’re about to cut your losses and begin screaming for help when the portrait door swings open once more revealing one Mattheo Riddle. His smug grin falls when he sees the two of you glaring back at him. You were going to murder him.

“Oh shit.”

“What in Salazar’s name did you do Riddle?” You ask between gritted teeth.

“Okay hear me out, let it go on record now, this wasn’t intended for you two,” the boy says sheepishly. “Blaise’ll thank me later though,” he says under his breath, quietly enough that you don’t quite catch it.

Blaise does however, and you see his hand tighten around his wand.

“Cut to it Riddle,” he snaps.

“Sorry, sorry! I might have been playing a little prank on Pansy. And Malfoy. They started it though! It wasn’t my fault!”

“Mattheo-“

“Alright! I was messing around with that sticking charm from class, did a little meddling, made it so I could set it up like a little, ah, what’s it called? A mouse trap! But with the cat instead of cheese. Obviously.”

“Just tell us how to get out! Salazar Matt, we didn’t ask for your whole evil plan,” you exclaim in exasperation.

“Oh! Real simple, just need a kiss!” Matt replies, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Really Matt? A kiss?”

“It wasn’t meant for you two! It was for Pansy and Draco!”

“Oh my god, you’re not even creative. Mistletoe. You just made magical mistletoe,” you say in frustration.

“What?”

“Nothing! It’s a muggle thing.”

Before you can lose your nerve, you reach up quickly, grabbing Blaise’s tie and pulling him down. Your lips are only touching for a few seconds before you let the boy go and, with your newly freed feet, rush out of the passage way.

“Immobulus,” you mutter as you stomp past Mattheo who freezes in place.

As soon as you’re out, Pansy’s cat leaps from your arms, scurrying off.

“We really just going to leave him there?” Blaise asks, following you out.

“That sounds like Mattheo’s problem if you ask me,” you reply, hoping Blaise hadn’t noticed quite how flushed your face still was.

He just lets out another low laugh as the two of you continue on your way to the library, both trying to ignore the way your fingers kept brushing as you walked.

"That's a muggle game. I thought you lot were supposed to despise everything to do with muggles. Wait, actually, where did you all even learn what seven minutes in heaven is?" you ask in confusion, watching with bewilderment as your friends situate themselves in a rather crude looking circle.

Your eyes can’t help but find Blaise who looks completely unbothered by all this, despite his usual aversion to these little games that Pansy so loved to drag everyone into. You weren’t quite sure what was going on between the two of you, and you weren’t entirely sure if you desperately wanted to be locked in the closet again with the boy, or if you wanted to run the hell away.

Pansy places an empty bottle of fire whisky in the middle and beckons you to take a seat next to her.

"Does it really matter where we learned it from? Come sit," she says, brushing off your concern.

And that's how you had ended up here. Pressed up against the wall, in the dark, with your arms wrapped around Blaise's neck, his hand covering your mouth as he pressed kisses down your throat.

One moment you were both protesting as your friends all shoved you into yet another closet, confiscating your wands, and locking the door. And the next, Blaise was whispering in your ear as his hands made their way to your waist and you melted into him.

It was definitely not what you had expected to happen. You had no idea where the sudden burst of confidence from Blaise had come from, but you weren’t about to complain.

"If we're going to be stuck here, we might as well make the most of it, no?" he had murmured, tilting your head up with one hand, forcing your eyes to meet before slowly, carefully pressing his lips to yours.

You didn't pull away and that seemed to be all the encouragement Blaise needed as he pressed your bodies together. You could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest as his lips moved against yours, warm and soft, mind turning to a muddy haze.

You barely register the gasp that escapes your lips as Blaise begins to trail kisses down your neck, and don't even bother to fight back as his hand presses against your mouth with a low laugh before he continues back up, finally meeting your lips again.

It all comes to a shattering stop though when the banging starts.

"Hey! Knock knock love birds! Time to open up!"

And just like that, you're momentarily blinded as light rushes back into closet and you hope to Salazar that you're some semblance of put together.

It had been a long fucking week and all you wanted to do was collapse onto your bed and cuddle your damn boyfriend. Was that too much to ask?

"Go, go, go, go, go," you hiss, racing into your dorm room, Blaise hot on your heels.

As soon as you're both in the room, you slam the door shut and turn the lock with a hasty "Colloportus".

"Think they saw us?" Blaise asks, pulling you onto the bed and into his arms.

"I don't care. I just want like, ten minutes without hearing Draco and Mattheo and Theo and Enzo fighting like wild grindylows," you groan, burying your face in the boy's chest.

The boys had begun trying to drag you into their latest scheme and you simply wanted nothing to do with it. You weren’t even entirely sure what the whole plot of their scheme was as you had been actively ignoring most of what they were saying at dinner. All you knew was no matter how many times you or Blaise told them that locking Draco and Pansy in a closet together on purpose was actually a horrible idea, they wouldn't listen.

"At least you're not the one who shares a dormitory with them," Blaise remarks with a laugh. “They were going on about how I’m ‘an expert’ at not knowing how to properly function a door earlier.”

"Yoohoo! We know you two are in there!" Matt's voice calls from the other side of the door.

"And here we see Blaise and y/n in their natural habitat. A locked room." Theo quips as the other boys fall into a mix of laughter and other jabs.

"Maybe if we pretend we died, they'll get bored and go away," you mutter, hoping the obnoxious train wreck outside your door couldn't hear.

"Perhaps we didn't properly appreciate all the time we spent all locked up. Only way to get some peace and quiet in this castle," Blaise agrees as the knocking on your door continues.

"Alohomora!"

The door slams open revealing a very smug looking Draco surrounded by his accomplices.

"Oh good, we were worried you might being doing something nasty," Enzo says, inviting himself and the other boys in.

Oh perfect, the circus had arrived with its clowns.

"As we were saying before you two so rudely escaped, we were thinking, since my whole cat trap didn't exactly go as planned, do you two have any ideas on how we can get Pansy locked up with Draco? Since it worked out so well for you?" Matt asks.

You glare at the intruders.

"Get. Out."

"Fine, fine, just asking! Thought you might want to help a ferret out," Matt says, raising his hands in surrender as he now has you and Draco both glaring daggers at him.

"Out."

"We're going, we're going," he replies as he and the other boys slowly begin filing out.

"And lock the door behind you!" Blaise calls out as the door finally slams shut. "Salazar those buggers don't know when to shove off."

"I don't even want to think about them," you reply rolling your eyes before pressing your lips to his.

You really needed to start looking into a better locking charm.

Anotha year, anotha Hogmarch challenge from @thatdammchickennugget