#this poor fucking bastard ALREADY wears glasses then his eye gets blown up by a fucking firework

[madefate]

i am OBSESSED with this storyboard art of young blitz w/ glasses and giant tits like ... look at him ... was he originally going to be a fucking hiptser -

[crystalrose555]

Don’t make me slap you! Pt. 1

That’s it, it finally happened! After 15 years, I actually decided to write a fanfiction!! God help us all!!!

Reblog if you want more!!

The grand summoning hall was lit with a cold glow as the seven demon lords sat upon their thrones. While half of them were preoccupied with their phones, Lucifer drummed his fingers against the armrest, his patience wearing thin as the summoning circle pulse softly. He glared at the grand symbol that gleamed a soft pulsing light filled with different colors. Barbatos held his hand over it, his fingers flexing slowly and carefully which ate away at the patience of his lord. Diavolo tapped his foot in increasing tempo only to jump off his throne and approached Barbatos while Lucifer followed suit.

“Barbatos, it seems like this is taking a lot longer than I expected.”

“Forgive me, my lord but I seemed to be having some trouble bringing the exchange student here.”

Lucifer and Diavolo’s eyes slightly widened in response.

“The exchange student is giving you trouble of all people, this is proving to be very interesting.” Diavolo beamed with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Lord Diavolo but I have to disagree. We already have Solomon here and his summoning was without issue.”

“Hmm, perhaps the student is reluctant about being summoned here thus explaining the resistance I’m getting.”

“Reluctant? Did they have a change of heart about coming here?” Diavolo frowned.

Lucifer felt his temper flaring upon seeing Diavolo’s displeasure. He walked over the circle and floated his hand over it, causing the colors to grow brighter and more intense. Barbatos’ face reflected slight surprise as the eldest brother joined in the summoning.

“If the student is reluctant to join Lord Diavolo’s program, they can explain themselves in person. It’s the proper way to go about things.” Lucifer claimed coldly.

A sudden wind began to pick up in the grand hall as Lucifer’s temperamental magic mixed with Barbatos’ smooth and calming incantation. The sudden change caught the attention of some demon lords as their hair began to move with the sudden vortex growing in the room. Lucifer felt a tinge of surprise as he felt as if he was being pulled into the circle. His eyes widened as his pride trembled slightly. How can a mere exchange student pull away from his grasp? In response, he tightened his hand into a fist, pulling on the invisible reins that he placed on his target. Barbatos, with a sigh, followed Lucifer’s lead as he mimicked the forceful motion which only caused the whirlwind to grow even stronger.

“What in Devildom’s name did you summon, Barbatos? What in the human realm could resist us so?”

Barbatos didn’t answer as he concentrated on their target which thrashed around in an attempt to escape. Now it wasn’t a matter of bringing a new student to RAD, now it was a mission to see what was capable of such a feat. However, despite the solemn and serious air they were all giving off, Diavolo’s smile only widened as his curiosity and excitement began to get the better of him. He firmly walked towards the circle, the wind picking up in speed as he stood between the unaware Lucifer and Barbatos. They only noticed his presence when he placed his hand into the illuminated circle.

“M-My lord, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping of course, I’m too excited to stand by any longer!”

“No, Diavolo, if you join-”

Sadly, Lucifer’s plea fell on deaf ears as Diavolo’s magical essence flooded the circle, the colors became blinding as the winds picked up to hurricane-like levels. Mammon and Satan cursed loudly as the wind knocked them out of their seats while Leviathan and Asmodeus squealed and clung to the sturdy Beelzebub. The tapestries were ripped off their hooks and whipped around the room while the stained glass windows were blown out in shards that littered the outside. Then as quickly as it came, the wind left and died as the room grew quiet except for the sounds of groans. Diavolo, Barbatos and Diavolo were blown a few feet away from the circle while Satan, Mammon and Levi were thrown into a pile on the far side of the room. The only ones who managed to stay on their feet were Beelzebub and Asmodeus who clung to him tightly during the magical windstorm.

“Oh my poor hair, I must look horrible right now!”

“Oh fuck your hair, Asmo! When you have a bookworm and a weeb on your spine, then you can complain!” Mammon groaned from the bottom of the pile.

“That’s otaku, you scummy bastard! Dammit, I hope that my save went through.” Levi whined as he looked at his game.

“Well that explains why you let go of Beelzebub.” Satan pointed out as he pushed Levi off of him.

Once they got to their feet, the disheveled brothers approached the epicenter of the gale storm. Mammon helped Lucifer back to his feet while the other brothers aided Barbatos and Diavolo. Diavolo released a hardy laugh upon dusting himself off.

“Whoops, looks like I was a bit too excited.”

“My lord, you can’t just put in that much magic in such a short period, it causes a reflux equal to the energy that was put in.”

“Now you tell him.” Mammon mumbled.

Lucifer shot him a quick glare which caused him to look away sheepishly. Smoothing his hair and appearance, Lucifer shoved Mammon off to approach the obscured summoning circle to see what caused all of the trouble. However, Diavolo quickly recovered and bolted himself ahead of Lucifer to reach the center first while Barbatos followed after him. He beamed brightly and stretched his arms out welcomely.

“My apologies for the rough arrival but I would like to be the first to welcome you to the devildom for your year at RAD!”

Diavolo waited for a response while Lucifer and Barbatos remained silent out of shock. Diavolo blink once he realized there was no one standing in front of him. In confusion, he looked around only to have his attention pulled toward a slap sound as if a bunch of flesh was thumped against the smooth ground. He looked down at his feet and found his mouth hanging slightly open out of surprise. A round bulbous creature with white rings along its dark back stared back at him with big watery eyes and a twitch of its whiskered snout. It propped itself on its front flat feet while its body ended in a pair of fuzzy fins that slapped against the floor. It gave a slight growl as it retracted its head into its thick pudgy body, curling into itself, making a nearly perfect sphere. All the demons in the room joined in on Diavolo’s shock expression to varying degrees, all except for Beelzebub who asked a simple question.

“So, Can I eat it?”

[peachebunnys]

Tease me

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x reader

AU: College Professor Horacio Carrillo (One-shot)

a/n : edited at 1 am and i can barely string a sentence together, so warning on fair bit of grammatical errors ~ enjoy :-)

Warnings: Smut - blowjob, mild face-fucking, shoe grinding, cockblock 

5.4k 

The strobe lights that flashed in colours of red, blue and purple messed with your vision as well as fed to that dull ache at the back of your head. The drink in your hands now sat warm, the cool precipitation from the glass was now damping your palms as you pushed through the rowdy crowd. It was awful, you’d admit, but nothing quite like getting down on a Friday night to help ease your nerves after a long stressful week. 

The club was starting to feel warmer, and you’d blame it on the swarm of drunk college students that were in the middle of the dance floor - grinding against strangers like it was the classiest thing to do. You swirl the alcohol in your glass, leaning against the bar counter for support as you skimmed through the crowd in search of your friends. 

The music was pounding in your ears, feeling the beat to the crappy remix you’ve heard one too many times in your chest. You’re regretting, surely. If it weren’t for the fact that you were currently trying your best to forget a certain man, you wouldn’t even be here in the first place. 

You silently curse yourself for starting this mess, in which you were sure you’re paying the price for. You took a seat by the counter, staring at the sea of people in close proximity, each of which were trying to get action with the next person. 

Your eyes darted to a couple, or so you’d hope they were, as they practically groped each other on the dance floor. The poor lighting did nothing to mask the man’s gentle caresses on the woman’s ass, kneading his fingers into her tender flesh. Her short black dress was starting to rike up, her now exposed ass grinding against the man’s obvious erection. 

Your eyes were glued onto them, watching them in a trance - almost like you were watching porn for the first time again. The way her mouth opened, heavy lidded eyes as she threaded her fingers through her hair was something you just couldn’t stop staring at. 

The man holds her closer, snaking his arms around her as he moves up to palm her breasts, massaging them for a bit before moving down her stomach. There was just something about them, the way they were so oblivious about the world around them that made the scene even more enticing. 

Perverted? Absolutely. 

But could you tear your eyes away from it? 

Not even the slightest.

You think back to the man you were trying to forget, and to the threats he had made just a few hours prior. 

“I don’t think you know who you’re messing with,” his voice deep and filled with promise, to completely wreck you with his touch, ”you can’t handle me, nor what I will do to you.”

So here you were, nursing an almost finished drink as you shamelessly watched two people get down in the middle of the crowd. Your pussy practically throbbed to the sight of it, imagining him with you instead, in such a compromising position in public. 

But that’s the appeal isn’t it?

You paint a picture in your head, idly entertaining yourself as you leaned back against the bar counter. Just imagine - you sprawled across his office desk while he pounds into you, one hand cupping over your mouth as the other teases your nub. You knew he’d be a rough lover, pace ruthless as he soughts out his release between you - and that made you wetter. 

You’d admit, you’ve thought of this one too many times, touching yourself to the thought of him playing with you that has never failed to bring you to your release. This man was truly something else, putting all your past lovers to shame with just the words of filth that he whispers to you when no one’s watching. 

You think back to the times when he’d give his smug knowing look, sitting by the edge of his desk, rambling off a series of things he would do to you - but doesn’t. Those were the thoughts you entertained at night, imagining his fingers instead of yours as you ride out your high within the confines of your small dark apartment room. 

How disgustingly sinful - and he knew this.

How would it feel to have your lips wrapped around his thick cock? Could you even take all of him?

How would he finger you? Would he play with your clit or would he curl his fingers inside of you - eliciting sounds you never knew you could make? 

His fingers were thick and long, making it harder for you to pry your eyes away. The very same ones that would run its pad over your lips, tilting your chin up to meet his dark blown out pupils as he chuckles darkly about your predicament. 

His fingers alone were able to make you squirm, and with each time he dragged his rough hand down your neck and along your form, you could feel the pool of wetness drenching your panties.

And he knew this. 

It had started out innocently enough, with your friends giggling about how attractive they thought your new professor was. You had thought nothing of him at first, seeing that you only wanted your college life to be over as soon as it could. He was a fantastic educator, you’d admit, but there was an air of arrogance that you were slowly getting sick of. The way he carried himself, as well as the charisma and pride that practically oozed out of him had slowly gotten onto your nerves - and you blamed it on the fact that he probably knew how his students were hung on every word he said. Just fueling the ego within him.  

The first few weeks of the semester had gone by like a breeze, until that one night you decided to head out to a friend’s party without finishing up your assignment that was worth a huge percentage of your grade. 

Reckless and stupid? Definitely so. 

The following morning, with uneven footsteps and a pounding head, you barged straight into his office in hopes to explain your predicament. You leaned forward in the leather chair across his desk, with a small pout playing at your lips as you practically begged him for an extension. 

It would work, wouldn’t it?

When has your method of being somewhat flirty while playing a situation into your favour ever failed you?

But apparently it did. Professor Carrillo, was rather surprisingly not buying your made up excuses, outright rejecting your request the minute you mentioned it. He scrutinized you with a look of mild disgust as placed down the book he was holding. His fingers drummed against the wooden desk, barely listening to your pleads.

“You had a whole two weeks to do it, if you’re asking for an extension now, it would only mean you have yet to start it.” 

Fuck!

What an asshole, this guy probably has a stick so far up his fucking ass! 

Professor Carrillo had sat up on his chair, leaning his head into his palm with an unamused expression, “will that be all?” His eyes were glued on you, observing the way your face fell as he asked you that simple question.

Your face had burnt with anger, and you could feel your own jaw clench. The way he was being so dismissive and disrespectful had made your hands tremble, and you had to hold yourself back from punching him right in the face.

What the fuck? Maybe he needs to get laid to get his head out of his ass! 

What you didn't realise though, was that you had accidentally said that last statement out loud, earning a rather surprised look on your professor’s face. His eyebrows had shot up in confusion and only then did you realise what you had unintentionally blurted out to your devilishly handsome professor. 

Your eyes widened at the damage done, and you hastily stood up to leave his office immediately, not wanting to escalate the situation further. What you didn’t expect was his remark afterwards, a smug comment that he had said so casually as you nervously wiped your palms on your short skirt. 

“Maybe I need to get laid? Didn’t take you for that type who would say this. Is that what you’ve been thinking about, pretty girl?” 

Oh god.

The audacity and nerve of this man!

You could hear the smile behind his voice, which made you extremely embarrassed by your actions. The way he had so casually teased you made your cheeks burn, and you knew from his cheeky tone that he wouldn’t go down without a fight. A bait, was what he had carefully hung in front of you - and what you had played right into it. 

Which led you to this - casual flirting and teasing just to get a rise out of him, as well as changing your sense of style to wear more fitted clothes, knowing that it would evidently distract him during class. You had the higher ground. 

But even then, did he beat you at your own game.

You slammed the glass down, huffing in annoyance as you spread your legs a little wider. How was it that this man could plague your thoughts even when he wasn’t around? He was a sick bastard for playing these games with you, teasing you to no end, only to leave you high and dry to tend to his work. 

Was it worth losing your mind over someone’s cock? Your professor’s one no less? 

“A bit sinful if you’d ask me,” you could barely catch the message, but the deep voice was enough to send a spark down to your already throbbing clit. 

You crane your head to look at the unwelcome guest, breath becoming shallower as you watched how close he was. The air had definitely changed, and now you found yourself smirking at the man who loomed over you.  

“Watching two people touch each other on the dance floor? If I knew any better, I’d say that you wished that was you.”

Liquor, bergamot and cologne, a funny combination - but a scent uniquely his, you think. 

It fills your space immediately, and your eyes instinctively become hooded as you look up to him smirking as he fills the gap between you. 

He’s wearing something casual for once, a dark blue tee neatly tucked in his tight jeans- clothes that accentuated his muscles and broad shoulders. His hair was neatly combed, just how it usually was. There wasn’t any trace of a stubble along his jawline, though you wouldn’t have minded if there were anyway. 

“Funny seeing you here,” your voice was low with arousal, downing the remainder of your drink as you eyed him curiously, “didn’t take man like you to come to a place like this.” 

“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know, little girl,” he muses, ordering dry scotch from the bartender. He eyes the way you’re dressed, eyes trailing down your body that lit your skin aflame. His eyebrow shoots up, taking in the sight of you in a matching black crop top and skirt outfit. The clothes had hugged you in all the right places, leaving no room for imagination- after all, you were hoping to leave this club with someone tonight. 

“You shouldn’t be wearing that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you slam the glass down on the counter. Even here, beyond the four walls of his office, was he so demanding. You bat your eyelashes at him, smiling as the poor club lighting accentuate his handsome features. 

Your pointer finger trailed down from his shoulder to his chest and stomach. You smile as you see his jaw tense, looking around the club for anyone watching - but everyone was either too drunk to notice or care. He looked back at you, with something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You stop your fingers at the waistband of his jeans, looking up to smile at him sweetly. 

“Quite bold of you to tell me what to do, professor Carrillo,”you purr, sticking out your tongue just a bit to lick the residue of the alcohol that laced your plump lips.

His eyes dart down to your lips, and his jaw clenches harder. His large hands catch your smaller ones, stopping you from running your fingers down his tight pants. His mouth now was curled up in a snarl, growling lowly at your words. 

“You really think you can play games with me, little girl? I’d break you, and I’d have you begging for more.”

Your legs squeeze together, feeling the wetness between build up. The buzz was making you bolder and your hand reached up to hold his, guiding him towards your thighs. 

“We’ve been playing this cat and mouse game for too long, professor. I know you want this as much as I do.” You guide his warm hand to feel the smooth exposed skin of your thigh, and you marvel at how long and thick his fingers were. 

He hesitates for a second, before squeezing your inner thigh roughly. His thumb rubs your soft skin, moving it up closer to where you desperately needed him to be. He leaned in closer and you found yourself intoxicated with his scent, hovering your lips over his.

His pointer finger pulls at your thong harshly, smiling as the material slaps back down against the curve of your hip. He looks up at you to notice your already debauched look, and he manages to elicit a moan from you as he rubs his thumb over your clothed clit. The friction was enough to make your hips buck upwards, and he chuckled darkly at the movement. 

“My sweet girl, you want me so badly, don’t you? You couldn’t even wait for me to make the first move?”

His thumb presses against your sensitive clit, making you grip his biceps tighter as you feel your mind turn to mush. He’s standing in front of you, with one large palm between your legs and the other forcing your chin up to look at him. Your lips were parted, with your expression a dazed one no less. 

Please don’t stop.

“I had it all planned out, you know? I’d call you in to my office for some minor mistake on your recent assignment, and I’ll tell you that it'll cost you a grade.”

He grinds the bottom of his palm against you, occasionally playing with your nub that was hot and fluttering with need. 

His warm breath against your skin made you flush, and you subconsciously leaned closer to him, breathing in his masculine scent that always drove you crazy. 

“You’d beg, wouldn’t you? You’d be a good girl and beg me for a better grade, right?” 

Oh, fuck. 

You could barely concentrate, and the world around you melted away as you focused on his eager and focused movements. The bar stool was tilting forward as you sat on the edge of the seat, gently grinding yourself against his deft fingers. 

Drunk. 

Oh, you were absolutely drunk. 

The alcohol buzzed within you, making you eye the well-built man before you with glassy admiration. The tension between the two of you was thick, and you could tell that the soft gasps you made was only making him harder. A snap, you felt, was all it would take for you to jump into his muscular arms to taste his lips against yours. The arousal that coursed through you was like a drug, muddling your thoughts till you were in your utmost primal state. 

Was it a need? A want? You couldn’t quite tell, except the fact that he had to keep his hands on you or you’d absolutely lose it. 

Never has anyone made you feel like this before, and it only made the experience even more addicting. 

His voice was low and commanding, and despite the nature of his question, you knew it was more of an order instead. You nod feverently, agreeing to his question in hopes he’d continue touching you. His fingers dipped within your folds and gently played with your clit, feeling the wetness that soaked his fingers. 

“You’re so fucking needy, you just had to have me now, isn’t it?”

He leans his head forward slightly, resting his head against yours as he rasps into your ear, “oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby. My fingers can barely make it into that precious pussy of yours,” his voice is now husky, dripping with need and arousal, “How’ll I fit my thick cock into that tight wet cunt?”

He looks around the club again and realises that the large crowd was starting to disperse, making the both of you more visible to curious eyes. Though everyone was still in their drunken stupor, he knew that this was a chance he wasn’t willing to take - especially since you were still a student of his.

He removes his fingers and slowly brings them to his mouth, sucking the juices that dripped from the tip. He groans at the taste before rubbing his finger along your lips. His eyes were now fully black, and you could see a bulge forming against his already tight pants. You clenched your legs together, rubbing your thighs just slightly, in hopes of relieving the feeling that was starting to build.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.”

You hold his hand and begin sucking his finger pad that rests on your lips. You swirl your tongue around the appendages and smile, looking straight into his half lidded eyes. 

What was it, about doing this in public, that made this a thousand times hotter? You ran your left palm over your breasts, moaning as you continued lapping at his fingertips. 

“Fuck, little girl, you drive me crazy.”

You could tell he was now fully hard, and the cock that strained against the denim material had your eyes widening. He was massive, and the thought of this being buried deep inside of you had you absolutely breathless. You reached your hand out, ghosting your fingers over his crotch, feeling the heat radiate from it. He groans and squeezes your wrists, eyes hard and firm on you. 

“Dont,” the look in his eyes drives you crazy and it makes you want to submit to him completely, “not here.” 

He holds your hand and forces you out of your seat, hand resting in the small of your back to lead you to the restrooms. The corridor there was filled with people that were struggling to stand, leaning against the cool walls as they laughed with their friends about something nonsensical. 

They paid no mind to the both of you, and Horacio used that to his advantage when he pushed you into a surprisingly empty restroom, locking the door behind him.

The music was now softer than it was outside, and your heart was now hammering in your chest for a completely different reason. The dim orange lights in the toilet were making the mood much more enticing, and you could feel your body tremble with need.

Now, what was a pretty girl like you, doing in a dingy poorly-lit bathroom with your devilishly handsome middle aged professor?

Should you even be doing something as precarious as this? 

The bathroom was warm, with the sound of the fans rattling off as soon as it detected movement. His warm wet lips were on your neck, kissing and lapping at the exposed skin as he trailed down your back in a heated movement. Your soft mewls were starting to echo throughout the bathroom. 

“Be quiet, ” his warm hand spanks your exposed ass in a quick manner, eliciting a choked moan from you. His fingers knead the soft skin to ease the stinging that you had found absolutely delicious. “I’ll stop if you keep making those noises.” 

Breathless. 

His hands were on you, palming your breasts as a small voice at the back of your head questioning if you should even be doing this. Was this worth it?

He roughly shoves you against the cubicle door, fiddling with his belt buckle before pulling his jeans down. You get on your knees immediately and your heart rate spikes, way too turned on to make a coherent thought. 

Fuck it. 

Your bare knees tremble as it touches the cool tiled floor, 

His cock strains against the black material of his boxers, precum creating a small spot on the bottom right corner of his underwear. He lets out a hiss as he finally removes the tight material, cock bouncing before your face before he takes it in his hands. 

He gives it a few short pumps before positioning it in front of your face. The sight of you on your knees was making him twitch harder, which in turn made him groan loudly.

He threads his fingers through your hair, eyes emotionless as he stares at you, gently guiding your head forward. You bat your eyelashes at him and reach up to hold his massive length, giving it a few jerks before deepthroating him quickly. 

His eyes widen and his hips stutter back, a weak attempt to stop himself from jerking his hips closer to your face. Your action took him by surprise and you giggled, fingers wiping off the precum that covered his tip, licking them clean as you smiled sweetly at him. 

“Stop it,” he pants, “you make me so fucking hard.”

“Isn’t that the point, professor?” you bob your head down, sucking on the head of his shaft before licking a long stripe down to the base. You fiddle with his balls, gently massaging them in your hands while his cock begins twitching in your mouth. He bucks his hips forward and you find yourself gagging around his length, saliva drooling down your chin. 

“That's it, just like that, beautiful.” 

You could feel your face flush with the praise, filling you with a whole new wave of determination to get him off faster. Your fingers clenched around his length tighter, and you marvelled at how big he was in your hands. 

His head tilts back against the cubicle door, and he gently pats your head in rhythm to your head bobbing. The sound you made was downright obscene, and you trailed your free hand down to your soaked panties, in hopes to find any sort of release. 

“Do you want to get off, babygirl?”

His voice was condescending, laced with pity and smugness as he referred to you yet again with a pet name. 

You looked up at his face, noticing his swollen lips that was probably a result of biting down too hard. You pulled him out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’, causing him to let out a hiss from the change in temperature. The cool air was now simulating his leaking cock, and he found himself missing the warmth in your mouth. 

“Professor, I want to cum so so badly.” Your soft mewls were enough to cause him to twitch in your palms again, and this time you responded with kitten licking the slit that seeped precum. 

His face was contorted in pleasure, lines forming on his forehead as he growled in frustration. He looks down at you, and notices one of your hands in between your legs. He gently moves his foot under you, kicking away your hand as lightly as he could. 

“I want you to grind against my shoe while you suck me off.”

Oh.

Oh.

This was filthy.

Your eyes widened at his command, and you could hear the sound of his sole dragging across the tiled floor. 

His shoe was now directly below you, and you hesitated to settle yourself down on it. 

Your gaze trailed up to him, watching his jaw clench as well as his lips pursed in a thin line. His cock twitched slightly and his precum was starting to flow down onto your hand. 

You slowly adjusted yourself until your dripping cunt was directly on his boot. You once again began pumping his large shaft while experimenting in rolling your clothed clit against the footwear. 

With the roll of your hips, you felt the pleasure spread through you, with butterflies fluttering in your tummy. The thought of it all was so sinful, and yet you couldn't find the need to care about it at all. You continued your movements against his shoe, moaning in delight at the sensation around his fat cock. 

Your long painted fingernails trailed down his muscular thighs, gently clawing at his skin as you moved to hold his leg for support. The faster you moved your clit against him, the more soaked your panties got. Professor Carrillo gently ran his fingers through your hair, tugging at it slightly whenever the feeling of your lips around him got too overwhelming or him. 

You were evidently nearing your release, if the pooling wetness against his boot wasn’t a clear indicator. Your eyebrows were bunched together and you looked up through your eyelashes to notice your professor biting down on his bottom lip, eyes dilated to almost pitch black. 

Saliva was running down your chin and onto your neck, ruining your makeup that you had put on for the night. You were sure you looked like a total mess, with hair out of place and eyes watering as you continued sucking your professor off as fast and deeply as you could.

“Fuck,” his head leaned against the wall again, “I’m going to fucking cum, fuck — you make me want to cum so fucking fast.”

You smile against him, moving your mouth off his cock to suck its head once again. You increased the speed in which you were grinding against him, feeling the sparks of pleasure course through your clothed cunt. 

“Oh, oh fuck yes. Just like that, sweet girl.” His voice and words had almost made you breathless and you found yourself moaning against him once again. 

This whole situation made you feel so filthy, and you couldn’t quite remember the last time you were this turned on.

The vibrations on his wet cock had caught him off-guard, causing him to unintentionally slam his length down your throat. 

Carrillo curls his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it back slightly to see the mess he’s made on your face. You let go of his shaft, allowing him full control of the pace to fuck your mouth. 

He had started out slow at first, thrusting in only the first few inches of his cock into you. He took hold of himself again, pushing the tip of his cock against your inner cheek, feeling the softness of it. 

“So— so fucking good,” he pants, tightening the hold he hand in your hair. You glanced down and saw his balls twitching, in which you made the abrupt decision to move your hand up to massage them. 

You could tell he was close, and hell, you were too. There was a familiar buildup within you, and you knew you wouldn’t last any longer than he would. 

His words were incoherent, and his pace of fucking your open mouth was now almost brutal. The sounds of you gagging was evidently sending him over the edge, and so was the sight of you drooling the mixture of saliva and precum.

So close. So fucking close. 

You clenched your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm catching up to you quickly. This, you thought, this is exactly what I’ve been fantasising about all those lonely nights. 

So so fucking close. 

And then he stops. 

An abrupt and sudden movement that forces your eyes open. You glanced up, only to see his pointer finger in front of his closed lips. He gestured to you to be quiet, cautiously looking over at the door that he had locked when you came in.

Silence.

Your breathing was laboured, and Carrillo pulled his shoe from under you, standing up straight as he continued staring at the door.

The lack of contact had made you whimper, which earned an accusatory look. He glares at you disappointedly, moving his large warm palm to cover your now swollen and red lips. 

What the hell is going on…?

The door had suddenly shook with furious poundings, accompanied by a string of drawed curses. It was clear there were several people outside, all of which clearly unhappy that the bathroom door was locked shut. 

“Hey— Is anyone i-in there? Open this ffuc-fucking door!”

You stare back at your professor, eyes filled with panic as the situation dawned on you. Your mouth was now open, and you furiously wiped the mixture of saliva and cum that dripped down your chin. 

Professor Carrillo immediately pulls up his pants and shoves his still very hard cock into the confines of his boxers. Your legs wobbled as you struggled to stand up, feeling the floor below you shake as you tried to lift your body up. 

Carrillo had noticed your struggle and had bent down to hook his arm around your back. He held up your arm with his free hand to support your weight to stand up, holding you for a few more seconds till you caught your balance.

He held your hand tenderly, pulling you behind him as he walked towards the whole row of empty cubicles, which reeked slightly of vomit and alcohol. Your hearts was pounding against your ribs and you could feel your blood turn cold as the women outside continued their threats to call security. 

He pulls you into one of the stalls and wipes away the smeared lipstick, ducking his head slightly to plant a small kiss at the corner of your lips. “Just stay here for a bit after I leave, don’t want to be suspicious now, do we?”

You were completely dumbfounded, and the pounding of the door only seemed to increase. You eyed it nervously, but Carrillo simply smiled at you in a reassuring manner, sending a small wave of butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

God, this was awkward.

How do you look at the man whose dick you were sucking so passionately, now that everything has been interrupted? 

The arousal still flowed through you like liquid fire, and the way your professor smiled at you would’ve made you get to your knees again - if it weren’t for the fact that the door knob was now being turned furiously.

“My office, Monday morning.” He whispers, lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear, “don’t be late, babygirl.” He shoves you into the cubicle and makes his way to the door, unlocking it in a manner that he was trying to play off as drunk. 

You heard the murmurs from the girls nearby, their words slurred and angry as they walked into the washroom with a rhythmic click from each step they took. You sat on the lid of the toilet bowl, carefully removing the disgustingly soaked panties that were starting to make you feel uncomfortable. 

You studied the way the area that covered your pussy was now glistening under the dim lights, and you could still smell the arousal that practically dripped off you. Sighing heavily, you shoved it recklessly into your purse, opting to finish yourself off in the comfort of your bed instead. 

As you walked out the cubicle and past the gaggle of drunk girls, the only thing you could think of was what would come out of this arrangement that you now had with your professor. You thought back to the events that led to this, and how turned on a simple sexual act had made you feel. 

Your heart was still racing, with your face flushed red from embarrassment and arousal. You combed your fingers through your tousled hair, patting it down to make it as neat as you could. The ghost of his fingers still lingered on your body, and you found yourself missing the warmth that he exuded. A faint smile pulled at your lips as you recalled how satisfying it was to see your professor almost come undone at your touch. 

The memory of him biting at his lips roughly as you choked on his shaft was one you were sure would be etched in your mind for a long time. And as you unsteadily got into the cab heading for home, you knew you had already come to a decision about this arrangement. 

Whatever it is and whatever happens next, you smiled, it certainly was going to be worth it. 

[nekojitachan]

I'm absolutely late to the party, but I adored last week's armies prompt from Stuart's POV. That poor man is trying his best given the circumstances! It would be so interesting to see him try and support Abram after the Popescu nightmare, and the whole "you were an eight, some days a nine" in the 1 to 10 fucked up scale. I just love Stuart in this AU for trying so hard! And I'm sure it teared him up to see his sister's only child go through all these things

I do try to work through old prompts!!

Anyway, before I resume working on the reverse big bang fic, I decided to tackle an outstanding prompt (will keep working on these while work is so busy). Not sure this shows Abram at his most fucked up (that would be a bit later), but it does show Stuart trying to get Abram back on his feet after the Popescu nightmare. I probably will do more at a later point when Abram is a ‘proper’ Hatford family member (and more on that 8 or 9 out of 10 scale).

So… Armies snippet, prequel to the fic, deals with the whole ‘Popescu nightmare’ so references to bad things/non-con but nothing specific or graphic, and references to violence.

*******

Stuart stood to his feet when Miriam came out of Abram’sroom, her expression thoughtful and the tray in her left hand containing a half-eatensandwich and a partially empty bowl of soup. He didn’t say anything until theyreached the kitchen, where she wrapped the sandwich to put it in the fridgethen placed the dishes in the sink.

“Well?” He reached for the bottle of whisky while she beganto prepare a pot of tea. “He ate something, yeah?”

“Yes,” Miriam agreed as she frowned slightly over thealcohol but didn’t say anything, not after everything that had happened in thelast couple of weeks; he felt terrible to ask her to come with Henry fresh inthe grave, but she had a way with Abram, didn’t set off the poor kid likealmost everyone else did.

Probably because she was the closest thing to Mary that Abramhad, because she wasn’t a man.Because Abram had learned the hard way over and over just how little he couldtrust men.

Stuart’s mouth flooded with bile at the thought of what thoseRomanian bastards had done to his nephew – upon Moriyama orders – and did hisbest to wash the taste away with whisky.

Miriam made a tsk’ing sound as she rinsed the teapot outwith hot water. “He ate a little,” she clarified. “It’s a beginning, at least, andhe kept the tea.” She stepped closer to Stuart and gave his left arm a gentlesqueeze. “Things like this take time,” she assured him. “What he went through…it’s terrible and he needs to recover. The important thing is we’re here for him.”

“It shouldn’t have happened to him.” Stuart nearly slammedthe glass onto the counter before he remembered about Abram, about how hisnephew flinched at any loud noises or voices. “Dammit, he was supposed to be safe.” They’d only let him go off to theboarding school because they’d been so certain that the new identity would holdup to scrutiny, that Abram would be able to lead some sort of normal life foronce.

Then everything had blown up in their faces, with theMoriyamas arranging for Abram to be kidnapped and Henry being killed.

“Yes, he should have,” Miriam agreed. “He’s still a child,he shouldn’t have been touched by any of this.” For a moment her lovely face wasaged by grief as she had to be thinking about Henry, about the child she’dnever dreamed of burying, and then she drew in a deep, shuddering breath as herback grew ramrod straight. “But he has been his entire life, hasn’t he?”Something akin to anger made her jaw tight and voice brittle. “I loved Mary,but she should have sent him to us the day after he was born so he’d be safe.But there’s no changing the past as dearly as I would pay anything to do thatright now, so all we can do is move forward and give Abram whatever he needs torecover.” She fixed Stuart with a look that was pure determination, with that ‘you’lllisten to me or else’ which had quelled the doubters who thought that WilliamHatford had married ‘beneath’ him. “I’m not losing another child, Stu.”

“Fuck no,” Stuart said, his voice rough at the possibilityof something else happening to Abram, to him breaking down anymore than healready had. “I’d round up all the damn Cojocaru people I can find and handthem over to Ram in pretty bows if it’ll make him feel better.” The most alivehe’d seen Abram since breaking into that cesspool of an apartment in NorthTottenham was when he’d taken his nephew, bandaged and barely able to stand, tothe one warehouse in Harringay where Vasile Popescu was strung up like apresent for Abram to finish off.

It hadn’t undone what those fuckers had done to the kid andit hadn’t brought back Henry, but Abram had gotten some sleep that nightwithout waking up screaming.

Still, Miriam shook her head. “I refuse to let Ram turn intothat monster.” Once again her facetwisted with bitterness. “No, we’ll help him through this, you’ll see.” Shepoured the tea and handed him one of the mugs. “Time and patience, that’s whatit takes.”

Stuart reminded himself of those words in the following daysas he did what he could to get Abram to eat, to do something other than lie inbed, buried in blankets. He was used to his nephew being a nervous bundle ofenergy, was used to Mary, the tinyspitfire who’d never met an argument she wouldn’t wear down to the bone… ithurt to see Abram so listless, his pale eyes (no longer hidden by contacts)full of shadows and pain, his wrists wrapped in bandages and slight body hiddenby layers of clothes.

“Come on, kiddo, there’s grilled cheese,” Stuart cajoled ashe set a tray on the night stand near the bed; it looked as if Abram hadshowered at least, his hair damp and face bare of the faint stubble it hadsported that morning.

Abram was still for a moment then slowly pushed back the thickduvet and blankets which covered him as if a protective shield; it was cold inthe room due to Abram leaving the windows open – Stuart had tried to close themthe first day but had been told that Abram preferred the fresh air and breeze.

(It had stunk in the cesspool apartment, where the windowshad been boarded up to prevent any of the women from escaping (from trying tojump to their deaths).)

“I… can you get some things for me?” Abram asked, his voicequiet and raspy.

Stuart started at the question since Abram rarely spokeother than to say he wasn’t hungry. “What do you need?” he asked, aftercatching himself and almost agreeing right away. Abram pointed to a notepad onthe desk across the room.

Quick to snatch up the pad, somehow Stuart wasn’t surprisedto notice that the top two items were ‘hair dye, dark’ and ‘contacts, dark’; Abramhad always been so careful about hiding his natural hair and eye color to helpkeep up with his ‘Kyle Morrison’ identity at the boarding school, to preventthe Moriyamas from realizing that he’d fled to the family for sanctuary, but…. “Why?”Stuart asked. “They know you’re here now.”

Abram was quiet as he sat up on the bed, hunched over andwith his hands folded on his lap; the bruises had faded from his face and thebandages were gone from his wrists, which left exposed the healing scar tissue.He stared at his hands for a couple of seconds before he looked up at Stuart,who found himself flinching at the sight of so much pain in those pale eyes,flinching from the fact that he’d failed to protect Mary’s only child, the boywho’d come to him for protection months ago and who’d he let down.

“Can you get me them or what?” Abram asked, his voice evenraspier than before.

Stuart let out a shaky breath as he ran his hand through hishair and read the rest of the list – a laptop and some books on foreignlanguages and mathematics.  “Eat your lunchand I’ll get everything,” he promised, and felt something twist inside of himwhen a hint of a smile tipped the corners of Abram’s lips, the bottom one stillbearing a slight scab on the left side.

He stood there watching while Abram fumbled for the plateand picked up a slice of grilled cheese sandwich then slowly ate it as if reacquaintinghimself with the whole ‘food’ process. After half of the sandwich was gone,Stuart reached for his phone and started texting the list to Davis. “Why thebooks?” He figured his nephew could use the laptop as a diversion, but therewere more entertaining topics than foreign languages and numbers.

Abram was quiet as he finished the sandwich then reached forthe bowl of leek soup. “Uhm… it gives me something to do, learning that stuff.”He had a spoonful then shrugged. “And I’m good at it.” He glanced up at Stuartthrough the thick fringe of his hair (the red of his roots stark against thedyed brown), his gaze intent. “I can help the family by translating and stuff.”

Fuck. Stuart set his phone on the desk and crossed his armsover his chest. “You’re supposed to be in school, Ram.” He was supposed to beworking on his A-levels, dammit, on figuring out what he wanted to do with hislife – something other than the family business. Mary hadn’t wanted himinvolved in it, dammit.

But she was the one to marry Nathan Wesninski, he couldn’thelp but think, to marry the fucking Butcher of Baltimore who’d traded theironly child to the damn Moriyamas like a piece of meat, was the one who’d raisedAbram on the run so he had no fucking clue how to be ‘normal’.

The one time he was given a shot at normalcy? Stuart wipedat his face and put an abrupt stop to that thought.

Abram seemed to guess his train of thought, though, judgingfrom the sardonic smile on his face. “But I’m not, and don’t think it’s a goodidea for me to go back there, considering the mess the Popescu cousins left.”Hatred shaded his voice when he mentioned those pricks. “What else is there forme to do?”

Something twisted in Stuart’s chest at that plaintivequestion. “Anything, kiddo, you know the family will support you, will-“

“I don’t want thefamily’s support,” Abram snapped with the first bit of heat he’d shown since he’dtaken Vasile Popescu apart with several knives and a wealth of pain-drivenrage. “I know how to support myself,” he continued as his pale blue eyesflashed with ire and his chin jutted out with determination, so much like Marywhenever something set her off. “If I left here today, I could pickpocketenough money in a day to rent a room for a week, then figure out how to reach oneof the remaining stashes we have in Europe. I could do it.”

It was as much a threat as a statement, Stuart realized,well familiar with Mary’s moods – and despite those eyes and that hair, withthe shape of that face… Abram was Mary’schild, was a Hatford. “I know you can, kiddo, but we both know that once youleave here that the Moriyamas will be after you.” That seemed to take some ofthe piss out of the kid, whose shoulders slumped as he set the bowl of soupaside. “So let’s work together, okay? You don’t run off and… yeah, we can findsome translating stuff for you to do.” Fuck, Will better not kill him foragreeing to that, but if it got Abram out of bed and kept the kid out oftrouble, what could go wrong?

The faint smile was back on Abram’s face as he nodded inagreement. “Okay. I was doing really well with Russian, and I’d… I’d startedJapanese on my own,” he admitted with a faint blush. “If I don’t have to worryabout stuff like literature and history, I can learn even faster.”

“Promise me you’ll think about going back to school, kiddo,”Stuart asked as he picked up his phone again. “And finish your soup.”

“All right.” Abram leaned back against the pillows as he grabbedthe bowl of soup, a spot of color on his cheeks as he focused on eating; Stuartmade sure he had more than a few spoonfuls before he left, aware that hisnephew didn’t like it when people ‘hovered’ around him.

Will wasn’t happy about the deal, much preferring that Abramresumed his studies (was out of danger), but he wasn’t there to see the kidwithdraw more and more from people each day, was he. “I’ll assign a couple ofpeople to watch over him and keep him out danger,” Stuart assured his brother. “It’sjust translating, he’ll be fine.”

“He’s Mary’schild, those are famous last words,” Will scoffed. “Dammit, Stu… he’s been hurtenough.”

“And what’s to say they won’t find him again if we stash himin an even more posh boarding school, eh?” Stuart asked through gritted teethas he poured himself a large glass of whisky. “That’s if he doesn’t run awayfirst – like you said, he’s Mary’s child all right.” And she wouldn’t put upthis shit, would she? “Which is why we give him something to do, have Cal and Rogerand Mick watch over him with orders to blow the brains out of anyone who daresto get within two meters of him who isn’t family, and hope he decides it’sboring enough that maybe school wasn’t a bad idea after all.”

Will was quiet as he thought it over. “Two meters?”

“Don’t want to seem too excessive,” Stuart drawled, whichearned a faint chuckle from his brother, one of the few he’d heard since Henry’sdeath.

Besides, Abram had proven that he wasn’t too bad at lookingafter himself, after what he’d done to the Popescu cousins. Stuart rememberedthe mess in that North Tottenham apartment and at the warehouse then shivered alittle.

“You’ll take care of everything?”

“Yeah,” he assured his brother. “It shouldn’t be toodifficult, just setting the kid up to play with documents, right?”

“Famous last words,” Will repeated before wishing him a goodnight.

Stuart huffed at that before he had a drink of whisky; whatcould go wrong with having Abram join the family business?

********

[goldenchildkatsuki]

“cherry”

Writers note: I’ve started a new project everyone! I’ve decided to write fics based on my current favortite songs. Music has always inspired me a lot when writing and has cured so many writer blocks. I feel like my writing is just a little bit better when I have a specific song or lyric in mind. Well, now let’s see how this goes.

See another writers note at the end

Cherry by Lana del Rey

Love, I said real love is like feelin' no fear

When you're standin' in the face of danger

'Cause you just want it so much

A touch from your real love

Is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil

And lettin' it burn off from the rush, yeah, yeah

(Fuck!)

Meaning

Alluding to the relationship with a man that takes risks and turns them into the relation where Lana feels like breaking apart; she knows that “real love” has difficult moments and that’s why she still loves him.

Word count: 3.026

“What am I supposed to do then? Tell me!” Bakugou yells at Uraraka whilst rolling up his sleeves of his black jean jacket. Uraraka pulls him down to the cold concrete. “Don’t be stupid for once! I am literally begging you.” She hisses. The screams on the street become louder, panicked faces ran by, people falling all over eachother trying to get away from danger. Bakugou grits his teeth and looks at all the people scared for their lives, calling out for heroes. ‘I’m being stupid? You want to call for heroes instead of doing something yourself? Have you lost your fucking mind? You are not that pathetic right?’ He takes big steps towards Uraraka and stares at her with his red eyes that had the red of smoldering coals. Uraraka tried to avoid his gaze. She really didn’t want to argue right now. She knows they have to do something. A group of villanous thugs blew up a building of an important company and are rummaging the street, trying to catch every poor soul they can to throw on their pile of hostages. It’s clear they mean serious business. Only a few patrol heroes have arrived and it’s clear that they don’t know what to do. ‘Bakugou, please. The last thing I want to argue is right now. But do you really want to go out there in that mess without your hero licence?’ Maybe Uraraka shouldn’t have said that part. She knows how much damage failing the hero license exam did to him. It was the first time he let her see him cry. Bakugou kneels down before Uraraka with the coldest expression she has seen in a while. ‘People are going to die, I’m not going to let those punks do what they want.’ Before Uraraka could say anything he pushes his hand on her mouth and kisses her forehead. ‘It’s going to be fine.’ Uraraka can feel his hand twitching on her mouth. Of course this boy is scared. He’s been a victim like those people out there too many times. It did something with his mind, but it also did something with his morals as a hero. Uraraka could feel her eyes burning. Should she really just let him run off? Bakugou presses a few more kisses on her forehead and sprints onto the road. ‘You’re gonna regret this you bastards!’ he yells before runnning into a wave of people. She hears his voice waver. ‘Stop acting like you’re not scared.’ She says to herself. She stands up and brushes the dirt of her knees. Slowly she steps out the darkness of the allyway across the blown up building they had taken cover in. She tries to see as much as possible of the situation. She can see bright explosions go off and people yelling at Bakugou. Telling him to get the hell out of there. That he’s just a kid. That he should run. Uraraka is in awe of the scene Bakugou is creating. He’s carefully, but with incredible speed, avoiding the thugs that are trying to scratch him with knives and bullets. After some decent punches he picks up a young boy that was up against rubble of the building, throws him over his shoulder and yells: ‘Take him and get the hell out of here!’ at the people trying to hide and the people yelling at him for trying to save them. Uraraka face lights up. He’s the greatest heros she ever had the pleasure of loving. She steps out on the street as well, ready to activate her quirk to protect the people from shattering glass falling down from above and heavy debris coming loose from the already deterioating building. “We need more heroes!’ A womans screams when she bumps into her, trying to get away. That takes her back to reality. She needs to call back to the dorm and tell her classmates to tell the teachers at UA that they need help. Being in a relatively quiet area with a low crime rate might be the reason why there are no big heroes at the scene right now. She tries to grab her phone from her jacket and tries to dial the dorms number with wavering fingers. Her head snaps back up when she sees an old man moaning from pain. He’s got scratches from glass and his leg is stuck under debris. She turns to her phone and back to the man. Uraraka can feel her heartbeat in her ears. Even though the explosions are cancelling out almost all the sound she can still hear her heart panic. She’s got her hero licence damn it. She’s allowed to act. Why can’t she? ‘Uraraka!’ she looks at the direction where the familiar voice came from. ‘You can do it!’ Bakugou yells before pounding his fist into the ground and firing off a huge explosion. It creates a smoke screen which luckily the captured citizins saw their chance to escape in. When most of the most smoke screen dissappears, the thugs are running around completely dissorrientated and trying to figure out if they should go after the citizens or get rid of Bakugou. Bakugou was on his knees, clutching his arms. His forehead was drenched in sweat and he closed his eyes for a moment. ‘You can do it!’ he yells again. Now she has to give it her all too. She tries to clear up her mind. Take care of the people first, than call for back-up. She activates her quirk and takes care of the dangerous falling debris that Bakugou’s mega explosion caused to fall down to earth. She can feel the first wave of nausea but she keeps her stand firm. She can’t waver. Bakugou gave his all and now she should too. Almost all the people that were in the dangerzone have either run away or have found safety behind her and the patrol heroes that have come into action again. When the last person runs past her she deactivates her quirk just right before she can feel her lunch coming back up her throat. Bakugou has been blasting nasty explosions in the faces of thugs which keeps most of them down. When it became clear there was only one thug standing he smirks The compliments and praise that were being thrown at her from the audience behind her became background noise. All she had eye for was his smirk, the smirk that indicated he had won, the smirk that was his sign of relief. ‘Die, scum.’ He said and he aims his palm at the head of his apponent. Then his smirk fades. As if the world started spinning slower this whole moment felt like a dream where everything was slowed down by just a few seconds. The thug penetrates a small knife he had hidden in his boot in Bakugou’s palm. And his scream was the most tragic scream the city heard that day.

They sit across form each other on the hospital bed in Recovery Girls office. Uraraka glances at his left hand, carefully wrapped in bandages. Bakugou takes her chin and raises her face to meet his. ‘God, are you even listening to me at all?’ Though what he said came across as rude, she knows he means it in a loving way. It’s his way of checking she’s alright. It was really obvious she wasn’t . She hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon and barely got a decent amount of hours. She stayed by her partner’s side, trying to sleep in the small bed with her head on his chest. Happy to still hear his heart beating and to feel his chest rising and falling. ‘I was, I swear.’ Bakugou pulls her face closer to his. ‘Liar.’ Uraraka eyes jolt from one corner to the injured boys face to other. Her stomach twists. When only inches away from his face she remembers every cut and every trail of blood that was left behind on his face. She has felt a lot of things. Anger, because of him being so reckless, running straight into danger when she literally begged him not to. And of course sadness, because of seeing someone she loves so dearly in that much pain. When the knife when through his palm it felt like it when through her at the same time. Bakugou forces a smile on his face. ‘Come on roundface, smile would ya’?’ Bakugou lets go of her face and tries to pry up the corners of her mouth upwards. ‘Come on, you got me wearing a stupid smile, it’s not fair if you don’t do it too.’ Annoyed Uraraka swipes both of his fingers away. She can feel the balloon inside her, that contains every bit of tollerance she has for Bakugou after this incident, being on the verge of popping. Bakugou retracts his fingers and his forced smile disappears. ‘My bad.’ He mutters. Bakugou is looking at her, trying to make her look up again. More pressure is adding to the balloon. Does he seriously expect for her to act al giddy and happy after what happend yesterday? He knows damn well she can’t stand his impulsive behaviour. Before the balloon can pop she shuffles of the bed and puts her shoes back on. Bakugou grabs the back end of her skirt and tugs on it. ‘Where are you going?’ ‘Back to my dorm’ she says without looking at him. ‘I’m tired and I’ve been here all night you know?’ Bakugou lets go of her skirt and rubs his hand through his hair that was messier than usual. ‘I know, fuck, I know.’ Uraraka picks up her bag and when walking to the door she’s trying her hardest not to look back at him. At the doorpost she opens her mouth to say goodbye but Bakugou spoke before she could. ‘You have to admit I was pretty fucking cool out there though.’ The balloon pops. All the tollerance she had for her boyfriend escaped her body. ‘Cool? Cool?!’ she said so loud it even scared herself a bit. ‘Is it cool that you got two weeks of dettention for acting in danger without an hero licence? Is it cool that you could’ve paralyized the muscles in your arms? Is it cool that you had a hole in your palm? Is it cool that I could’ve seen you die in that moment?’ She can’t even look at his stupid face and continues raving at the door. ‘You weren’t cool, you continue to scare me to death, that makes you the worlds biggest asshole.’Her face becomes hottr and hotter from anger. Bakugou stays silent. He doesn’t even move. Uraraka rarely ever get this angry at him and she knows he realizes that it’s serious this time. The silence began to bother her. She didn’t expect him to say anything. The boy has a lot of issues and hasn’t yet reached the state of openly talking about them without anyone forcing him to. When she hears the hospital bed creaksshe stomps out the room. After closing the door she leans against it with her back, trying to controle her erratic breathing. Uraraka puts her hand on her chest. She can hear Bakugou curse at himself. Everything Uraraka said he’s saying in a much more violent way to himself. When her breathing is steady she walks back to her dorm. She tried to avoid every bit of contact with anyone on the way and did so for a few days. When going to class she would only respond to Iida and Midoriya, she rarely ever started or continued a conversation with them. Tsuyu and Mina kept close to her, asking her to vent and to rant. She tried to, more to satisfy them than for her own sake but she couldn’t say anything more than: ‘I was just very scared of him getting hurt.’ Walking to every class and hanging out in the dorm she avoided Bakugou completely. He tried his best to reach out to her, he tried to get her alone and make her face  him. But everytime he tried she just pushed past him and joined the others again. One night all the girls decided to come together in Hagakure’s room to watch a whole bunch of romance movies. Uraraka has never been the biggest fan of those kind of movies. That actually worked really well in her relationship with Bakugou. He was really into thrillers and mystery movies and she could appreciate those genres as well. Reviewing the movies always turned into a heated discussion. Bakugou claimed she didn’t pay attention to detail at all and that’s why she thinks that all the movies they watched were better than they actually were. Uraraka would roll his eyes at him and tell him he’s too critical over and over again. Thinking of that Uraraka smiles and looks on her phone. Bakugou has tried to call her and text her but she hasn’t responded once. If she’s honest, she doesn’t know what she would even say to him. She had thought about reaching out to him and telling him she might’ve been to harsh on him but everytime she considered that anger followed that thought immediately. Yaoyoruzo put a hand on her hand and gives her an endearing look. ‘Are you feeling okay Uraraka, do you want to watch something else?’ All the girls turn to them and all have the same sympathetic look on their face. Uraraka tries to avoid everyones gaze and chooses to look Yaoyoruzo in the eyes instead. ‘I’m fine, this movie is  great, I like hanging out with you guys, I feel like we haven’t spent a evening with just us girls for a long time.’ All the girls smile and agree with her. They all start chatting about why they haven’t been able to spend that much time together recently. The movie quickly became forgotton and the girls crawl around the table. They happily eat all the snacks that Hagakure laid out for them. ‘Can I ask you something Uraraka?’ Mina says whilst whiping the crumb of a cookie off her lips. Uraraka awkwardly fumbles with a bit of popcorn between her fingers. She was just beginning to be genuinely disctracted and having actual fun for the first in what feels like too long. Uraraka nods slowly. Mina looks at the girls and then back to her. ‘Are you…Are you and Bakugou still…Uh? You know…Dating?’ Uraraka’s eyes fall the the ground and Mina rushes over to her. ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to say. I just wanted to know so maybe we knew better how to help you and uh…’ Mina looks at the rest of the girls to back her up. Jirou says: ‘I think she knows you mean well, right Uraraka?’ She did know that and she’s glad that everyone wanted her to be happy again so badly. But she didn’t know what to tell them. She knew she loved Bakugou dearly and that he knew what he did wrong but she just doesn’t know how to go from here. Maybe she will never find out and they will go back to being nothing more than just classmates. That’s the last thing she wants to happen. The more she thinks about the more panic she feels ands she felt everyone reading her. ‘Ochako?’ Tsuyu croaks with a worried look on her face. Uraraka slippd her feet in her slippers and stands up. ‘Sorry everyone, thank you so much for trying to help me, but it’s time for me do something.’ She’s  getting choked up but nobody says anything. No one tries to stop her and so she rushes out onto the hallway. She doesn’t know what she’s gonna say to him yet. Maybe if she sees him this time, instead of anger an “I love you” will come out her. When reaching her own room she sees him. He’s sitting on the floor, arms folded, trying not to fall asleep. She approaches him quietly and kneels before him. His eyes can barely stay open but when he sees someone appear infront him he stiffens. Uraraka can’t help but stare at him. She doesn’t feel anger anymore but she can’t feel an “I love you” either. Suddenly a tears falls down her face. She whipes it away with the back of her hand. More tears start streaming down her face. Why is she crying? Why can’t she stop either? Uraraka looks at him in confusion. ‘I don’t…I can’t stop.’ She chockes on her words. Bakugou leaps at her and throws her arms around her. His arms squeeze hers together and his warmth falls over her body like a blanket. She starts crying louder, which gradually turns into sobbing. She’s thinking of every possible way to stop crying so she can just talk to him. She can’t imagine how ridiculous this might seem to him. Bakugou lays his chin on his arm and whispers words of comfort into her ear. With a hand he strokes her hair that has gone curly from hurry and sweat. When she finally calms down tot he point that she can actually say his name, Bakugou lets her go. Bakugou’s eyes look red and look puffy. Was he really crying too? Uraraka picks up his hand and let their fingers intertwine. ‘I love you.’ She says first to their hands. ‘I love you.’ She says again but this time to his face. ‘But you scare me. The last thing I want is to lose you. Just try to take care of yourself okay?’ She can tell that he’s desperately trying to hold back his tears by the way he’s squeezing her hand. ‘I love you too.’ he mutters to the ground. Her heart flutters. It’s the first time he said it back. He always waved her declarations of love away with a “yeah yeah” or an “I know”. Even though she didn’t mind, she always wondered what it would sound like when he said it back. And it turned out to be the most beautiful she has ever heard.

Writers note: the next song I’m going to use is: Like a Star by Lil Yachty. My ask box is also open for if you want me to use a song as inspiration for a story.

[gyromitra-esculenta]

And this is absolutely not the continuation of that and that. (and another superhero prompt courtesy of @downwithwritersblock down). crack. srsly.

The pictures were still worth it even when Angela gave him another concussion after healing the first one. And then healed him again. Whoever granted her medical license was a natural born sadist and hated all living things in the world with an inconceivable amount of passion.

The plush horse sat on his desk in a place of honor, just by the purple porcelain cat figurine Sombra gave him once when she had forgotten herself, as a random gift. He still suspected it was more of a joke.

“As a side note,” Jack addressed the class, “Schrödinger's cat thought experiment was created as a way to highlight the inherent absurdity of applying the laws of quantum physics to objects existing in the range of macro world physics. It also pointed out the need for an undisclosed something, or someone, to be the observer that collapses our poor cat into being very alive, or very dead, among other things, but that deals more with the history of quantum physics and different interpretations of quantum effects we will actually save for the next lesson. Myself, I like to think, it also highlights the fact that we, as humans, still have a considerable objection to treating time as just another dimension, like, for example, length, if all we experience is its linear progression. So, the electron might be once observed as a particle, another time as a wave, and why exactly is it? For the next week, try to think about one such unruly particle that not only exists in spatial coordinates, it also exists spread over some amount of time, miniscule as it is. Class dismissed.”

Students started to leave among comments like ‘mind blown’ and ‘hey, wanna get high behind the gym before art?’. All except one. Jesse slowly approached the desk and then put a small cowboy hat on the horse plushie.

“I, uh, I’m glad that you like it. So I made the hat for it. So it looks… classy?” Jack almost dropped his papers. And smiled.

“It is an especially fine equine specimen, Jesse.”

“I reckon it is, Mister Morrison,” Jesse tipped his own hat while grinning goofily. “See you next week.”

“Yes, Jesse, next week,” Jack waved him away and then slumped in his chair, trying to set fire to the plushie with his stare because that absolutely made no sense. After some time spent thoughtfully putting together all the little clues in the right context, it actually made frighteningly too much sense.

Honestly, who else if not Gabriel fucking Reyes, strangely buff and a bit reclusive costume and set designer for several avenues in the city? And it made him feel itty-bitty bad about that one time he punched Reaper out when the opera house came under the attack during the premiere. He really thought the whole project was exquisite and had been a tad frustrated his night out got interrupted.

“Ey, old man, quit stalling, you’re getting laid tonight after all,” Sombra clicked her tongue and then sat down on the desk. Jack sighed, reached for his wallet, and gave her fifty credits. “You know I only bet you because he asked me if you liked that atrocity?”

“I’ve guessed as much.”

*

In his life, Gabriel tried Tinder. He also tried Grindr. He tried We Both Like Pineapple on Pizza. He even stooped as low as creating an account on OkCupid. It just didn’t work out. The furthest he got was three dates – and then any interest he might have felt just fizzled out.

Which left him with this, getting set up on a blind date by his own son, and worse, getting fashion advice from the very same son that took to dressing up cowboy style when he was five and never looked back, because ‘nah, too dramatic, try this, he’s real classy, you dun wanna make him run when he sets eyes on ya, do you?’.

Gabriel started to pick at the hem of his shirt and glanced around exactly at the same moment goddamned Jack Morrison had stepped inside. This had to be someone’s idea of a fucking joke. Gabriel discreetly angled a bit to the side and tried to hide his face behind his palm. For a second, it seemed like it had worked.

“I believe, Mister Reyes, you’re waiting for me?” Bastard. Gabriel caught the subtle drop after the first syllable of his last name and glared righteously at the man setting himself down in front of him. Yeah, him and his big mouth, he should have left while the blonde was still unconscious. He just figured the whole hospital conversation would be long forgotten seeing as the guy had been high as a kite, and then some.

“Is this some kind of ploy?” He hissed.

“Certainly. But I suppose the only ones plotting were our progeny, and towards sending us off to have a nice cozy romantic evening,” Jack smiled picking up the menu.

“We can go both on our separate ways then because this is not going to work out at all.”

“I came for free food, mostly. I think I’ll have the duck with truffles.” Gabriel stared at him.

“Free food? Last month you held up the federal bank and absconded with twenty-five million credits!”

“Details,” the bastard scoffed. “Besides, you will have to drive me home, my daughter seems very committed to the idea of getting me laid, she took the car back with her.”

“You can take the cab.”

“Now, that wouldn’t be very romantic, would it?”

“There’s nothing romantic about…” Gabriel pursed his lips when the waiter came over. The fucker made his order. “To think I let you daughter sleep over at my place all those years.”

“Your concern for Sombra’s chastity is touching, but it has never been threatened, believe me. Your son’s as gay as they come. No-one puts that much dedication into dressing like a cowboy otherwise, unless in the professional capacity.”

“Says the man who so very often wears that one blue travesty against any sort of fashion sense.”

“Says the man who routinely goes out in one quite kinky black leather number.”

“…Touché.”

Jack raised the wine glass in a toast.

“Now, Gabe, can I call you Gabe?”

“Most certainly not,” Gabriel glared at his ‘house special’ which turned out to be some pity amount of fish with fancy garnish.

“So, Gabe, let us put down some ground rules first. I believe we should keep our private lives off limits, and I mean, completely out of any mention or action. I do imagine, you have many more enemies than I do, and their involvement, dare I say, is much more personal?”

“Are you… Really, you have the audacity to threaten me?”

“I’d never,” Jack laughed, apparently the bastard was having entirely too much fun. “I’m merely noting that the destruction is mutually assured in our peculiar case.”

“Duly noted,” Gabriel shook his head. “I should’ve let you there to bleed out.”

“But you didn’t.”

From that point on the discussion turned to quippy banter reminiscent of their usual clashes and then somehow to Jesse’s academic results and goddamn Morrison even suggesting some additional classes he could attend and what schools would be good to apply to with his grades and aptitudes.

So, when Gabriel stopped in the driveway and the blonde unclasped his seatbelt, the night was already full of things he had not expected, and driving his nemesis home was certainly on that list. Jack shrugged and leaned to the side…

Oh.

OH.

Getting head in the driveway from the said nemesis everyone already thought he was involved with for who knows how long would never even make it to the ‘unexpected things’ list. It was straight out of the ‘those things have no right to exist’ list. But then, it had been pretty long since… Gabriel decided to go with the flow.

“Oh, yeah,” Jack wiped his lips. “I want to say I’m genuinely sorry about that one incident at the opera, I was actually looking forward to seeing the whole show. Drive safe.”

That… smug… bastard.

*

“You’re home early,” Sombra didn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “That bad?”

“It was a disaster.” Jack sat down on the couch and started flipping through channels.

“Too dramatic?”

“Worse.”

“Too academic?”

“He used ‘abscond’ in a sentence. But worse still.”

“Oh, the horror, what could be worse?” She plopped down sideways in his lap.

“Honeybuns, you set me up with Reaper.”

“This makes scary amount of sense,” Sombra agreed slowly, looking up at him. “But you still blew him in the driveway.”

“This is all part of a long term strategic planning.”

His daughter raised her eyebrows.

“Well, okay, he picked up the tab and then drove me home. I figured he deserved to get something out of that,” Jack admitted with some delay.

***

Prompt used: 

4.  Who would have thought I’d be set up on a blind date with my biggest enemy.