#which has got me weak in the knees because a) hot and b) he wants to touch me and c) he told me he keeps thinking about it

[girlcatullus]

like literally where has he been all this time

[goxjo]

! 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

ALPHA! GOJO x F OMEGA! READER

+ synopsis. you live in a world where omega and alpha qualities are medically treated at birth to become dormant later in life. present day, only betas & pseudo-betas exist, pheromones & its effects are left in the distant past, and heats & ruts are reduced to monthly cycles of being slightly hornier than normal, nothing more.

so, what happens when a curse you encounter induces a heat in you far worse than anything recorded in modern times?

+ alternatively. in which even a special grade sorcerer isn’t immune to the curse-induced heat of an omega — you, the partner he's pined for over the course of your entire friendship — forcing you and him to go back to your primal roots.

+ cw. forced A/B/O dynamics, lovesick! gojo, slight! geto x reader, sorcerer! reader, dubcon (technically sex pollen), reader is born an omega, gojo and geto are born alphas, gojo's infinity can't block scent for fic purposes, geto doesn’t turn au, use of restraints, mating call, mutual pining, it gets playful / lighthearted in the middle, implied 'medical' use of sex toys, dirty thoughts, lordosis, petnames (angel, love), pussy job, constant pov switches towards the end, cunnilingus, ass fingering, piv, cervix kisses, confessions, shared orgasm, creampie, knotting, no beta bye, 3.5k+ words, MDNI

+ masterlists. general ┆ jujutsu kaisen ┆ collab

♥︎ aki’s note. big thank you to raven (@raven-cincaide) for sprinting with me ♡ ++ this very late fic is part of my into the omegaverse collab ♡ please show some love to everybody’s amazing works when you can!

He came as soon as he heard. Plagued by his racing thoughts, Satoru stands still, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you from behind the glass window. Though he appears to be calm, seeing you like this is torture.

“How long has she been in there?” Suguru puts his hands in his pockets, taking the spot next to Satoru.

“Too long,” he breathes. And it’s only been half a day. His 6 eyes have been agonizingly locked on your form the entire time, piercing blue eyes peering through the glass and into your poor disturbed soul. You’ve been crying non stop ever since they found you. Eyes glossy, pupils blasted, spewing incoherent words, skin damp and hot.

They needed to restrain your arms and legs to be able to perform tests on you, but that didn’t stop you from crossing your knees, relying on friction to rub your pussy as best as you can. All this, as your body wriggles beneath the harsh clinic lights. You’ve gone absolutely feral. Your cries are pitched an octave higher than what Satoru’s used to. And as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, it’s as if… “It’s as if she’s calling out to someone.”

“To you, you mean?” Suguru scoffs.

Paper seals secure the walls of your room. Remnants of the curse linger around your body and because of that, they’ve deemed it safer to assume only born-betas are allowed direct contact. For now, at least. Shoko says they don’t know if there are aftereffects — meaning, if exposure to a victim could also trigger a rut in an alpha. And now they’re dealing with pheromones, not just cursed energy, so infinity is out of the question. That means Shoko gets to stay with you, and the two born-alphas are to stay on this side until further notice. 

Satoru hates it – being separated from you by a wall like this. Not like you weren’t already normally separated by one, considering your room in the dorms is right next to his. But he particularly hates how this renders him unable to barge in on you any time he wants.

Right now, he wants to annoy you. He wants to poke fun at you. He wants to pull your strings because he likes it when you get fake-mad. You’re cute when you do that. Plus, he uses it to his advantage knowing you can never actually stay mad at him for too long — a weakness the two of you share.

“Heard the report got it all wrong.” Suguru pats Satoru’s back. “Special grade 1, was it? Quite the leap from semi-grade 1.” Suguru shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. He’s never seen his best friend so distraught. But Suguru reassures him, telling him not to worry and reminding him of the fact that, at the very least, “She’s alive and kicking. Well, kicking too hard for that matter. Those knots are gonna bruise.”

“She should’ve called me. Fucking idiot.” Satoru clicks his tongue.

They have brought in experts — historians, even. They have tried every omega medicine known to man. Emergency suppressants that were once obsolete are concocted that same day. Everything should’ve shown immediate effects. And yet, it’s almost laughable how it all seemed like they were only giving you placebo meds, forcing you to down so many in so little time. Since nothing has worked, Shoko sent them away.

What’s worse is, the curse is exorcised. And in the world of Jujutsu Sorcery, killing a curse usually takes all its enchantments with it. So, if the curse is dead and you’re still experiencing the worst heat known to man, they could damn well consider your revert permanent if they don’t do something about it quickly.

The two men jolt back upon smelling a very pronounced aroma of burnt cinnamon on Shoko who’s left the room for the first time in the last 6 hours. Her hair is slightly disheveled, slightly damp from sweat. And the circles around her eyes have grown visibly darker and heavier.

“Can’t imagine our forefathers going nuts over that stench.” Suguru lightens the mood, fanning his hand in front of his face. He blinks his tears dry as a result of inhaling a whiff of the strong odor.

“It’s not that bad.” Satoru scrunches his nose as he’s suddenly taken aback, though he’s not particularly repulsed by the scent. If anything, he’s immediately convinced it’s something he doesn’t mind living with. “Plus, I heard it’s slightly different for every omega.”

“Finally, some fresh fucking air,” Shoko murmurs as she leans on the glass, head thrown back as she lights up a cigarette. Apparently, she hasn’t had one since they brought you in. “Welp, tried everything. Even left her alone with toys to do—”

“Herself?” Suguru teases.

Satoru scratches his throat. “Did it- uhm… did it help?”

“Not one bit.”

“Maybe you… didn’t give her enough time?” Satoru nonchalantly suggests, pouting as he subconsciously takes notes for himself if he ever gets presented with the opportunity.

“I let her at it for an hour.” Shoko huffs out smoke in the direction opposite to the two men. “I even gave her… options, you know.”

Satoru mentally kicks himself as his thoughts run wild. He can still see the tip of the pink silicone popping out of one of the trays, girth not so different from his. He hates Shoko for doing a shitty job at concealing it because blood rushes to his cock just by looking at that thing, knowing it had gone inside you. He thinks about what other toys Shoko had you use — thinks about which one was able to make you cum the fastest, which one was your favorite?

Fuck. Now, he has to keep adjusting his stance, marching in place like a damn soldier till he manages to get his half-hard cock into a better position in his pants. Using his hands then and there is not an option for obvious reasons.

“Satoru.” Shoko’s tone becomes more serious. “You can drag this longer than it needs to be. But you know there’s only one surefire tried-and-tested-literally-by-millions-way to cure a heat.” She takes a long puff, blowing smoke in between words, embers flickering on the end of her half-done stick. “You up for it?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Of course he is.

Suguru and Shoko shoot each other knowing glances, the former raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘watch this’. “Satoru, If you’re not gonna do it, I wi—”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Satoru spits, not letting his best friend finish his sentence. The two quickly exchange low fives, chuckling at the expense of their lovesick friend. Satoru turns to Shoko, paying no mind to his friends so blatantly enjoying themselves in the middle of a crisis. “You’re sure you’ve done everything you can?”

“Everything I can, yes. You’ve exhausted all the favors you can ask of me, it’s high time you deal with your own problems.” Shoko prods two fingers onto Satoru’s chest.

“Want her to want it,” Satoru speaks softly.

“Are you blind? Did your fucking 6 eyes stop working?” Shoko looks at Satoru, puzzled, as if she wonders why Satoru isn’t seeing what she’s seeing. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she wants it bad.”

“Want her to want me.”

Shoko rolls her eyes and disposes of her cigarette though it’s a couple more puffs away from when she usually stops. She’s at her limit. “Wait here.”

Trying to prove a point, she goes to the supply room and comes back with two handkerchiefs — a white one and a blue one. She then pats the white one with the sweat off of Satoru’s nape, and the other with Suguru’s. “Pray with me, boys. One of you’s gonna have to return to their roots.” She cracks her neck, preparing to head back in.

The sound of your cries increase and decrease in volume when Shoko opens and closes the door behind her.

“Shoko, Shoko, please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it—”

Shoko waves the blue handkerchief above your head, grabbing your attention for only a few seconds till you’re back to screaming in agony. She can almost hear Suguru scoffing on the other side. She then takes out the white cloth with Satoru’s scent, and like a moth to a flame, you’re instantly drawn to it. Your breaths have finally steadied. You take quick bouts of whiffs, head craning every which way she drags the piece of cloth.

She leaves you with the handkerchief after letting your arms and legs loose, allowing you to curl up in a ball as you desperately inhale Satoru’s scent. It’s the first thing that has calmed you in hours. Nonetheless, this relief is temporary. Pretty soon you’ll be needing something stronger. Something more potent. Something in its rawest form.

“S-satoru,” you breathe through the handkerchief, staring at the two-way mirror like a faint prayer to the god you know is there. “Shoko, please get me Satoru.” Your words are clear as day, and that’s the first coherent thing you’ve said all day.

Shoko’s eyes dart to where she’s sure Satoru stands. “Do you see it now?” she mouths.

Satoru’s jaw stiffens, stomach now a mangled mess of anticipation and guilt. On the one hand, he’s relieved. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if you’d reacted the same way to Suguru’s scent. On the other hand, he knows what’s going to happen now. Not like he didn’t see this coming.

…

Though she didn’t have to, Shoko chose to make a nest of Satoru’s clothes for you in his own bed. “Thought I’d at least make the effort to help make it romantic, no?”

Except nothing about this is romantic. Jujutsu dorm walls thankfully aren’t thin, but thin enough for him to hear your cries from behind his door.

Satoru takes a second to collect himself, getting square with the fact that this isn’t how he wanted your first time to go. He can smell you from where he stands, forcibly reminding him for every second he delays that you’re in there, waiting for him.

He’s played your first time over and over in his head as he fucked his fist — almost every morning in the shower, once or twice in your room when you were out on a mission, and many, many times in the very bed you’re nestled now. Out of the hundreds of scenarios he’s made up of him making love to you in his head, he’s never once pictured this.

His friends have pestered him about this for so long, urging him to take the first step or else Suguru — and on some occasions, Shoko — won’t hesitate to whisk you off your feet. But he tells them he has his reasons for constantly holding off. He says it’s because you’re perfect for him, and so he wanted your first to be perfect — plain and simple. He says it so matter-of-factly, too. But now, to hell with the perfect scenario because as it turns out, it’s mother nature herself who decides to give him one crazy hell of a push to make a move.

Satoru enters his room. Greeted with the raw and unbound fragrance of your heat, his heart pounds in his chest. He coos upon seeing you hugging his pillow, all plump and ready for him. Suddenly, it registers in his head that he’s seeing you naked for the first time, lying in his bed. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says more to himself, trying to convince himself that this is real — that you’re real.

“‘M sorry, it hurts— hurts so bad, Satoru. ‘M sorry!” He’s sorry it has to be like this, too. But he’s not so sorry that you’d asked for him.

With dried up tears along your cheeks, and fresh ones in your eyes, your cried out voice croaks, “Satoru, help me please. I need you.” You roll on your belly, propping your forearms as you bury your face in his scent, whining into his pillow, back arching + ass perked up, as you shamelessly stroke your pussy to his face. “N-need you now, please, please, please?”

Fuck.

Even now, it melts his heart seeing you so full of want.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’m here aren’t I?”

Satoru doesn’t miss the way your hand grips the sheets as you watch him discard his clothes. He sees the absolute delight in your face, the flexing of your belly, the further bend of your back, the quicker strokes of your fingers around your clit. But it’s the sight of your nectar dripping out of you that finally makes him break.

With how hard he is and how much he wants to devour you like crazy, he could easily be mistaken for an alpha in a rut. He swears his chemical makeup has nothing to do with it. He just wants you that bad.

Suddenly, the space between you and him doesn’t exist. You moan out loud just by being touched by him. He engulfs you in his arms forcing you to sit up, hot skin against even hotter skin, your back pressed flush against his torso as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. And your slick — god, your honeyed slick — begins to coat his hard cock speared between your legs and along your puffy folds.

Fuck.

“Sweet angel.” His eyes roll back as he takes in all of your scent.

His cock twitches between your legs, pre-cum starting to drip off his tip. He feels a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach as soon as he gets into contact with your slick. Your touch is so fucking electric. One hand wraps around your stomach while the other reaches for your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh, feeling your thuds of a heartbeat beneath his palm. You smell so fucking good upclose, your scent keeps hooking and hooking him in, and taking care of you is all he cares about. That's all that matters. He’s holding you now and yet he’s unable to satiate this mad need to be closer to you. He needs to be closer. He needs to make love to you. Needs to be in you—

“S-Satoru.” You guide the hand on your breast, intertwining with his fingers, pressing harder, rougher, against your skin. “You feel so good, Satoru. Please move. N-need more.”

Satoru releases a deep groan in your ear when you bring your knees together, locking his cock between your legs as you begin to grind your pussy on his erection, nectar lubing your every sway.

“E-easy, eaaasy,” Satoru’s voice is low and breathy. He hisses with every roll of your hips, breath hitching as your pussy drags his foreskin back and forth, balls kissing the back of your thighs. Mind hazy with want, he presses his cheek on yours, planting open mouthed and sloppy kisses on the side of your face.

“Not so fast!” Satoru holds your hips in place when you start to pick up the pace, making you whine, “Wha–”

“Too fast, I’m sorry.” Satoru trails apologetic kisses along your jaw. “Not there- don’t want to cum there.”

He apologizes as a tinge of guilt prickles his throat seeing you so utterly vulnerable. Your eyes plead for him to fill you then and there but he needs this moment to last as long as possible, even if it means prolonging your agony.

“S-Satoru, can’t wait any longer!” You try to move your hips but they’re locked in place. 

“No.” He says, firmly, and it hurts to tell you that. “Not yet.” Tears well up in your eyes as your chest heaved at the height of your confusion. Your mouth opens, trying to find words, but before you get to complain, he gives you a soft, chaste kiss — your very first one, he realizes — and tells you, “Get down for me.”

And with tears in your eyes, you oblige. He supposes this is the work of the reemergence of your makeup and raging hormones, making you so pliant and submissive, you’re willing to do his bidding even when you’re on the verge of insanity — when, before this, you always had a stubbornness in you he’d always been fond of. But then again, at this very moment, you’re desperate. And you’re desperate for him.

“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re up to b-but please, don’t take long- oh!” Your protests are quickly replaced with cries as you feel a soft, wet muscle slide across your folds. He’s always had that habit of not letting you finish. To think it’s something he takes to bed with him makes your stomach coil. “Fuck!”

Hot breath fans your folds as he splits your slit open with his tongue, and all you can do is shudder in place, wallowing in the extreme pleasure that dozens of toys weren’t able to give you. You’re practically leaking on his face, honey dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose pressing into your ass.

His tongue squelches with every lick, twisting your core in knots with every line drawn. And then it’s as if Satoru’s lips are sealed around your clit, puckering and sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Satoru, oh god. ‘Toru, so good, ‘s so fucking good~” Your eyebrows furrow, lips pursing as he relentlessly flicks his tongue on your clit.

“Oh!” You scream when a honeyed digit enters your ass, thumb hooking and pressing hard against your g-spot, all while his tongue remains fixated on your clit. “Fuck- mmm!”

You can’t help but mewl and cuss into your first orgasm — the first one he granted you, that is — wave of pleasure washing across your body as he eats out your high. And while it’s a sensation that gives you a sense of satisfaction, you’re left wanting more. You’re left needing more.

“Please fill me- can’t wait any longer- please, alpha~”

Oh, now you’ve done it.

“Sorry, love.” Satoru pulls you back into his chest and cups your cheek, making you look over your shoulder and into his face. “Neither can I.”

“Sato- Oh!” Gagged by the feeling of friction in your aching walls, the very first one you had welcomed since your heat, you’re at a loss for words when his cock enters you, bottoming out straight away. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and he instinctively closes the gap, savoring your mouth, and with every click and swirl of your tongues, he thinks you are probably the softest, most delicate thing he’s ever tasted.

He knows he’s screwed, tasting you for the first time, knowing he’ll never want anything other than you, your lips, your pussy, this feeling ever again.

You feel as if every pump of his cock scratches that stubborn itch that’s spread across your pussy since your heat. And every satisfying ram of his hips kisses your cervix, bringing you closer and closer to your high, as if this — his cock, and the feeling of his body rocking your own — has been what’s missing in your life.

“Scream for me, angel,” Satoru grumbles against your ear as he feels himself nearing his own climax. Suddenly, his mouth is back on yours, kissing you, with you purring against his lips as he fucks you through your shared high.

“I–” When his pace comes to a full stop, you know what’s about to come. And he doesn’t know what to say. Shoko’s already briefed him on what’ll happen to an alpha who cums in an omega in heat, not that he doesn’t know what a knot is. He just doesn’t know what to expect. Still, he wants you to take it. Even now, he wants you to want it. But he studies that curious look on your face, and as he scrambles for words, it seems it’s your turn to finally shut him up.

“I love you, Satoru.”

Satoru chuckles. More to himself.

“I love you, too.” Satoru, with breaths uneven, relaxes his forehead against yours. Satoru steadies himself, and pretty soon, you collapse in his arms as his knot locks in your core.

...

"Hey," Satoru breaks the silence. "You know... taking my knot like that means you practically asked me to marry you."

"Shut up."

—

Shoko alternates between looking at you and flipping the pages of the report in her clipboard. It seems that you’re technically back to normal but she’s got that look in her face as if a couple of words are stuck behind her throat.

“It’s fine. Hit me with it,” you prompt. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re now a full-blown omega is what it is,” Shoko says without an ounce of concern in her voice. “But seeing as you’ve got… help now,” Shoko’s eyes dart to Satoru who’s standing in the corner, “there’s really not much to do about it.”

“Is that so?” You chuckle at the playful tension between Satoru and Shoko.

“You’re ‘help’, by the way,” Shoko addresses Satoru.

“A big one, too,” he adds.

“Keep it in your pants.” Shoko puts her clipboard aside and scratches her temple. “Still, it’s insane that this is what finally brought you two together.”

Shoko’s words put a longing, knowing smile to your face. "This silly guy waited too long."

“Hey, if that’s what it took. Who am I to complain?” Satoru shrugs, ego fluffed by the thought that you’re finally his. And the fact that he and you are the only active alpha and omega in the world? How special is that?

pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

One: Advent

The Potter's house on the first of December, after the Black Brothers move in, the found family has me weak so do with that what you will :)

Sirius could hear a commotion from downstairs, it was the chaos that had woken him up. But for once not in a cold sweat, fear crippling his every thought. He woke up to excited chatter downstairs, not muffled sobs or broken cries, pleas for it to stop. He couldn’t place why, after all it was an uneventful day as far as he was concerned. Yet the excited hollering was unmistakable.

He rubbed at his eyes and swung his legs out of bed, checking his calendar once more to ensure he hadn’t somehow missed a birthday. Shrugging he made his way a little down the hall and knocked on his brother’s door, not wanting him to miss any of the excitement.

Regulus opened it after a few ticks of the grand clock at the end of the corridor, “what’re you doing up so early?”

“There’s so much noise downstairs, can’t you hear it?”

“Of course I can.”

“So? Aren’t you curious?” Sirius pressed. He knew Reg hadn’t settled quite as easily as he had, after all James was his friend, but he wanted them to bond. He wanted the two most important people in his life to bond and love each other… or at least to talk for more than a millisecond a day. At this rate, he’d accept a vague conversation about the weather over the brief mutterings and glances he couldn’t figure out the reason for hiding.

“Not especially, no one’s dying, why should I be curious?”

“Reggie! You’re so dull, come on! Come down with me!”

The younger brother sighed but relented, grumbling some form of agreement before shutting his door and re-emerging a few moments later in a jumper that fell to his knees and a pair of fluffy socks. That was one thing Sirius had noticed, Reg had let himself relax with what he wore around the house, likely aided by Euphemia roaming around in her fluffy robe which was apparently inspired by a cat - it had ears, at least. The mixture of the shorts with the jumper fit for an arctic expedition was just so Reggie that Sirius didn’t bother questioning it. Apparently his legs never got cold. It was weird but hey, he was out of his room.

“Finally, you took forever.”

“I took less than two minutes, you’re so dramatic, Sirius.”

He shrugged and bounded the stairs, waiting at the bottom for his brother's more reserved footfall and sighing in a perhaps dramatic manner, “are you being this slow to annoy me?”

Regulus smiled and walked past him, “what was your first clue?”

The older boy groaned and followed him, watching with a slightly smaller smile as Reg’s barriers slowly came back up. The Potters were all sitting in the lounge, chatting, and James had a mug of hot chocolate which had seemingly calmed his excitement slightly. Slightly because he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“Pads! Regulus! Goodmorning!”

“What’s the occasion, Prongs?”

Euphemia smiled at him and shook her head fondly, “it’s the first of December, lovely.”

Sirius raised a confused eyebrow and watched his brother quietly walk to the other side of the room to settle in the chair which was mostly obscured from view, almost unnoticed by the others. “So?”

“So! We get our advent calendars! Come on, Padfoot, you have to know about advent calendars???”

“Uhm-”

“Oh my god, dad this is a tragedy! Mum!”

Fleamont laughed softly and reached into his pocket for the key to the big cabinet which sat in the corner of the room, “do you want to get them, Effie, love, or should I let that bundle of energy do it?”

“And bring the whole house cascading down around him?”

Sirius scanned his best friend again for some kind of clue but other than the broad smile and slightly sad eyes at his confusion, he found nothing of the sort. He chanced a glance at his brother and received merely a small shrug.

“Please? I’ve only knocked over the cabinet like once.”

“Once, he says.” She muttered with a slowly spreading smile before passing him the small brass key.

James beamed at her and flung his arms around her in a quick hug before he bounded up to the cabinet and unlocked the second draw down, apparently knowing the routine by now. The routine for what, Sirius still didn’t know. He pulled out a thin cardboard box that rattled? when he moved it and held it out to him. “Pads, it’s an advent calendar, it won’t explode, I promise. I tried it once and dad spent a week trying to get glitter out of the carpet.”

“Trying and failing,” Fleamont added with a fond exasperation, “if you look closely, there’s still flecks of glitter.”

Sirius smiled and took it, scanning it over, “there’s twenty-four?”

“Yeah! Like the lead up to Christmas! We all have one, mum always gets thorntons, dad is a galaxy man. I got you cadbury like me, since you always steal my chocolate anyway.”

He laughed softly and watched his best friend hand his parents their strange boxes, “so… it’s a countdown of chocolate?”

“Yes, dear.” Effie smiled at his still slightly befuddled expression and popped open her window marked with a small gold One, popping the chocolate into her mouth and nodding at him.

He grinned and scanned his eyes over the cardboard, searching for that One and grinning when he found it, a small italic 1 inside a candy cane. He watched his best friend and Fleamont find their respective boxes before uncovering the chocolate himself. Sirius didn’t think chocolate had ever been better than this, than the family who had invited him in without a thought. “Someone needs to tell Moony about this. He’d go mental.”

James snorted, “he probably already knows but why don’t you call him anyway?”

He blushed slightly at the sing-song tone and swatted him away as he walked into the kitchen where the phone was. Not that he was excited to talk to Remus, of course not, he was just… happy and Prongs was being ridiculous. It’s not like he liked Remus… maybe.

Regulus observed from his corner, as Euphemia and Fleamont started chattering about getting a move on breakfast, as his brother dialled the phone with a slightly flustered giggle. He was used to observing these moments, Mr and Mrs Potter didn’t seem to question that he was far more reserved than his brother, and usually let him decide how involved he’d be and once Sirius was assured he was safe, he let himself be dragged into the family. He didn’t mind being the observer, he was content with watching the dancing smiles and swatting hands which always landed softly, met with laughter and good hearted bickering.

Observing the family his brother had somehow found was probably his favourite thing to observe. Except Potter, James Potter who was currently walking towards him with his hands behind his back and a slightly unsure smile.

“Regulus?”

He looked up at him, as if he hadn’t been staring and raised his eyebrows in question, “yes?”

“I got you lindt, because, well, you have it quite a bit. And the picture was pretty too and-”

Reg cut him off with a slightly unsure quaver to his voice, one which was far softer than the brunette had heard him speak before, “you… you got me one?”

“Of course, Regulus, you’re part of the family, too, you know?”

“I- thank you.” He took the calendar from him, ignoring that his hands were shaking slightly.

“Don’t be silly, Reggie, it’s just some chocolate.”

What he didn’t know, Regulus supposed, was that it was far far more than chocolate. He didn’t say that though, he wouldn’t dare. Instead he merely smiled and inclined his head in a small nod, “well, thank you anyway.”

James shrugged and stepped back as if to move away and join the thrum of life that was merely a few feet away from them. And then he paused again, “do you want to help me with the lights? Dad said I can do them this year, the ones outside the front.”

“Oh, uhm, sure.”

“Great! We should get you a Christmas jumper for when we put up the tree tonight.”

Reg rolled his eyes with a smile, popping out his chocolate and placing it onto his tongue as he contemplated that, “I don’t do Christmas, Potter.”

“You’ll get there. You’d make a cute elf.”

He gaped at him as the brunette dodged his incredulous kick and gently placed down the calendar before bolting after the figuring retreating down the hallway, “take it back!”

“Nope! Cute elf!”

“Potter!”

James grinned at him and maybe it was the lights he had just bundled into his arms or maybe it was that damned smile but the holiday season was slowly seeming to be a little brighter. Even if he had to blame the cold for the pink tint to his cheeks and swat at the fool’s chest every time he said the same two blasted words, “cute elf.”

[sexy-adjacent]

Flirting With Your Sister

You’re back in Hawkins visiting your little brother, Dustin Henderson. You’ve been away at college, and haven’t been home for a couple years. However, you decided to move back home for a year before starting your master’s program. Your mom practically begged you to since she’ll be traveling a lot for her job the next several months, and wanted someone to be able to watch Dustin. You think Dustin is old enough not to need a babysitter, so you plan on just being the cool older sister.

One night, you’re home making dinner. Dustin is out with some of his friends and said he would probably be staying the night at Mike’s, so you’re looking forward to a relaxing night at home by yourself. However, as you’re wrapping up dinner, there’s a knock on the door. You open the door and you’re a little taken back by the handsome stranger at your door. His chocolate brown eyes gazed directly into yours. He has shoulder-length, brown curls, rings adorning most of his fingers, and a leather jacket with a denim vest over top. He’s not usually the kind of guy you’d find attractive, but there’s something about him that you find just delicious. 

Apparently you’ve been staring at him for a while because he awkwardly clears his throat and lets out a soft “hello?”

“Sorry! Hi! I’m Y/N." You say it so fast it almost sounds like one word. 

“Y/N, the older sister. It’s nice to meet you. Dustin’s told me lots about you.” 

“You know Dustin?” You ask, somewhat confused as to how this full grown (hot) man knows your teenage brother.

“Oh yeah, sorry. I’m Eddie. We’re friends from school. He’s also in my DnD club, Hellfire.”

“So you’re the famous Eddie? I’ve actually heard a lot about you, too. Dustin looks up to you a lot, which means he bores me with stories of you all the time.” You say, playfully. He smiles at this remark and you notice yourself getting a little weak at the knees. “So, anyway… Dustin’s not home and he told me he would likely be staying over at a friend’s house.” 

“That’s fine. I just lost some of my dice, and I wanted to ask if he’d seen them or maybe accidentally took them.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to come in and look around. His backpack is on the chair in the living room. Maybe he tossed them in there with his own stuff.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to bother you.”

“I’m not doing anything at the moment, and it’s just me here. I wouldn’t mind a little company,” you say with a smile. Truth is, you do mind. You were looking forward to a quiet night alone, but it’s not every day that such a good-looking guy shows up at your door, so you decide to take advantage of the situation. 

You lead Eddie to the living room and show him Dustin’s backpack. You then excuse yourself to go finish your dinner that you had momentarily forgotten about. You take a couple bites and then you’re interrupted again by a knock at the door. You go and look through the peephole. Your heart stops. It’s Jason Carver. He was a sophomore when you were a senior at Hawkins High a few years ago, but that didn’t stop him from asking you out. You obliged and went on one date with him. It was awful. Jason has the biggest ego out of anyone you’ve ever met. He talked about himself and about basketball the whole date. When he dropped you off, he went in for a kiss and you rejected him. This made him furious. He wasn’t used to not getting his way. The next week at school, he told everyone that he’d gotten to third base with you. You spent the rest of your senior year trying to dispel the rumors while Jason spent the rest of the year trying to get another date with you. Not only that, but Dustin’s told you that he’s been an asshole to him and his friends since Dustin started high school this year.

You’re guessing that he heard you’re back in town, and wants that second date he never got. You don’t really want to spend the next year dodging his advances, so you quickly conjure up a plan that hopefully gets Jason off your back for good. 

“Hey Eddie,” you whisper as you walk back to the living room. Eddie looks up from Dustin’s bag with a confused look. 

“Why are we whispering?” He whispers back.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Umm… sure?” he says. It’s more of a question, but you’ll take it. There’s another knock at the door. Jason must be getting impatient. 

“I don’t really have time to explain, but I might need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. I’ll give you the signal if I need you to come over.” You walk away before Eddie really has a chance to answer. 

You answer the door and Jason is standing there in his letterman jacket over a polo shirt. He’s smiling wide. Too bad he’s such a jerk, because he really is kind of good-looking. “Y/N! You are back!” It looks like he’s going in for a hug, but you take a step back, so he awkwardly lowers his arms back to his sides. You stand in awkward silence for what feels like several minutes before Jason finally speaks again. 

“I heard you were back in town, and I wanted to come and welcome you home.”

“Thanks,” you say flatly. Jason hardly notices that you are less than thrilled to see him. Classic narcissist. 

“I was also kind of wondering if maybe you’d want to go out on that second date we never got.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not really interested.”

“Why not?” Jason asks. You can tell that even this simple rejection has begun to anger him.

“I mean, I shouldn’t have to give you a reason. No means no. I know you’re not used to hearing no, but that’s no excuse to throw a tantrum.”

This really seemed to piss him off. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to talk to me that way. And I demand that you give a reason why you keep rejecting me. I don’t think you really have a reason, you just want to be a bitch.” 

“Reason #1: You just called me a bitch. Reason #2: You spread a rumor about me because you got pissed off that I wouldn’t kiss you. Reason #3: You’re a conceited jerk. Reason #4: You’re a bully to my brother and his friends. And reason #5…” You quickly glance at Eddie who is watching this unfold out of Jason’s view. You motion for him to come stand next to you. “Reason #5: I have a boyfriend.” As soon as you say it, Eddie comes into view and puts his arm around your shoulder. You feel a few butterflies in your stomach at this action. 

“This is your boyfriend?! You’re joking! How would you guys even get together?”

Eddie chimes in. “I’m friends with her brother who introduced us over the phone. After we were introduced we talked almost every single day, and then when she got back to town we decided to make it official.” You look at Eddie, impressed that he was able to come up with that on the spot. 

“Y/N, please tell me this is a joke. You cannot be dating Eddie “the freak” Munson!”

“Nope, not a joke. Eddie’s my boyfriend. The best boyfriend I’ve ever had, in fact.” Eddie is grinning at the fact that Jason is fuming at the two of you. “And might I add…” you lean closer to Eddie and whisper in his ear loud enough for Jason to hear, “that they don’t call him a freak for nothing. Isn’t that right, big boy?” You give his ear a quick little nibble and you can feel Eddie’s arm tense up around you.

Eddie turns to look at you. “Oh, baby. You are filthy!” There’s a hint of mischief in his eye that nearly makes you swoon. 

“Sick! You guys are sick!” Jason yelled as he backed away from the doorway. He then turned around and headed back to his car. You watched him drive away before closing the door, kind of in shock that your plan actually worked. 

Eddie was the first to speak after Jason stormed off. "So, you gonna tell me what that was all about?" 

You let out a little chuckle. "Uh, sure. I feel like I owe you that for coming to my rescue like you did." You see Eddie smile at this comment. You continue, "In a nutshell, I went on a date with Jason a few years ago, it went terribly, he tried to kiss me, I dodged the kiss, he got pissed, and then he told the whole school that we got to third base. I could never really escape the rumor, either. It affected what other people thought of me for the rest of the year, which is why I took off after graduation and haven't been back until now." 

“I’ve always known Carver was an asshole, but wow. This might take the cake.” Eddie says with a sympathetic look. 

“I’m mostly over the whole thing, but my skin still crawls every time I see him, so thanks again for helping me out. Hopefully he’ll leave me alone once and for all.”

“Yeah, hopefully. If not though… I’d be happy to be your boyfriend again.” Eddie says with a cheeky grin that makes you feel a little weak in the knees. “‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, your last line during our little roleplay was pretty hot.” 

You did your best to suppress a goofy grin, but you couldn’t help it. Feeling a little rush of confidence you reply. “Well I’m not gonna lie, I think you’re pretty hot.” 

Eddie’s grin grew even wider, if that was even possible. He didn’t say anything, but you caught his eyes starting to wander down your body. You started to get a little uncomfortable, so you quickly changed the subject. “Did you find your dice?”

“No, but that’s okay. I’ll check in with Dustin when I see him next and keep looking around my place, too.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Eddie continued. “Well, I better get going…”

You were eager to spend more time with him, though. You quickly interjected. “No!... I mean, I just finished making dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Oh, I could always eat. I don’t want to impose though.” 

“You wouldn’t be, honestly. In fact, you’d be doing me a favor. I don’t like being alone and I made a ridiculous amount of food.”

“Well, in that case, I’m at your service fair maiden,” Eddie says with a little bow. It was so goofy, so why did it make your heart skip a beat? 

Eddie follows you into the kitchen where you dish him a plate of spaghetti. You hand it to him and make your way over to the table where you already had a plate you were eating from. Eddie sits down next you and takes a bite of his food. 

“This is delicious!Are you, like, a chef, or something?” He asks with his mouth full of food as he wipes his bottom lip with the back of his hand.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “No, it’s just spaghetti and one of the only things I know how to make, so don’t get your hopes up for future meals.” 

“First of all, I don’t eat this fancy very often so I’m sure I’ll think anything you make is delicious. Second of all, you think we’ll continue to share meals?” You could tell by the glint in his eye that he was amused by the statement you’d made, which flusters you.

“Ummm… I mean, definitely not if you don’t want to, being as we just met and you don’t know me and I don’t know you but I guess you do hang out with my brother so we may or may not cross paths again. I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to the idea, but again, no pressure. Anyway, I’m rambling now and it’s getting awkward and you’re looking at me like I’m crazy or something so I’m just doing to stop talking right about now!” You say all of this in one breath, mortified that you couldn’t put together a coherent answer to Eddie’s simple albeit flirty question. 

He laughs. It’s gorgeous and yet you feel mortified that you embarrassed yourself. That is, until he speaks. 

“I don’t think you're crazy, and I would like to share more meals with you. Don’t feel pressured to cook for me though, I’m really good at ordering pizza. Or, we don’t have to have food. I’d hang out with you either way.” 

Eddie starts leaning closer. Your eyes dart down to his lips for a quick second. When you glance back up to meet his gaze, you notice that he’s even closer to you and he’s now stealing glances to your lips. 

Suddenly, you hear the front door swing open. “Y/N! I’m home!” 

You and Eddie fly apart, almost sitting at complete opposite ends of the table. Dustin calls for you again. 

“In here, Dusty!” You yell back.

Dustin rounds the corner and enters the kitchen. “Eddie? What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, he was just-” Eddie cuts you off. 

“I was just flirting with your sister.” 

You roll your eyes while trying to hide a smile creeping up on your lips. 

“No, he was looking for some dice.” 

“Oh right, that is what I was doing here. You haven’t seen them, have you, Dusty?”

Dustin cringes at Eddie’s use of the nickname. “No, I haven’t seen them. However, I do feel slightly uncomfortable hearing that you were flirting with my sister, even if it was just a joke.” 

“It was not at all a joke. Sorry, dude. Your sister’s cute and I think she likes me.” Eddie turns back to you and gives you a wink. He then stands up from the table and walks closer to Dustin. “Don’t worry, Dusty. Nothing happened… this time.” Dustin goes beat red. You can’t tell whether it’s from embarrassment or outrage. “Anyway, I better get going. It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope to see more of you.” Then he quickly headed out the front door. 

“I don’t like this, Y/N.” Dustin says once Eddie closes the door behind him. 

“Well that’s too damn bad, little brother. Stop having adorable friends and maybe I’ll stop flirting with them.” You say, then stick your tongue out at him. 

[onlylostphysics]

For the character meme: Ed! :D

:D!

favorite thing about them

oh god, everything. His theatricality, his natural brilliance, his showboating, his arms, his boredom, his playfulness, his legs in those breeches, his terrible coping mechanisms, his disney prince eyes, the way he has so many sides to him that flash depending on who he's with and what the situation needs, his love of fine food and clothes, his stupid frat boy schtick, the way he does his hair, the leather, his confidence, the way he doesn't like to try new things if he's not immediately great at them... he is a hot mess of contradictions and that makes him very compelling (also, he's hot).

least favorite thing about them

That time he made Fang put his dog down 😠 (I have thought about this A LOT because I don't like it!! and I want to reduce it!! and I think it is interesting that the policy Ed remembers is "no pets because they befoul the ship" but the rest of his crew give more weight to the "the love of a pet makes a man weak" thing, which Ed needs reminding of. Extrapolating from that, my headcanon is that someone tried to push back on the befouling thing once and Ed threw out ~love makes you weak~ because: a) he's Blackbeard and that's the sort of thing Blackbeard would say, and b) he's good at manipulating people and saying whatever needs to be said in the moment to get them to obey, and c) fuck you for arguing with me -- which doesn't make it better but it does make it less about the dog.)

favorite line

"Dickfuck, no it's not" lives rent free in my head, but shout out to "You wanted to be Blackbeard, this is what it's like" and "Science tells us all the useful organs are on the right side of the body, so I cleverly took the sword on the left."

brOTP

Ed & Lucius, especially when it's post-S1 fake-ghost Lucius who was enjoying haunting him but is now like, holy shit, you need help, let's get this bitch some therapy.

OTP

I am gone on Ed/Stede like I've never been gone on a pairing before.

nOTP

reciprocated Ed/Izzy (sorry)

random headcanon

It might be more word-of-god than headcanon, but I like the idea that Ed's got plenty of physical experience with sex but not much emotional experience. Which means every time with Stede, even when it's flaily and faily awkward too-many-knees sex, is still the best of his life because it's fun and safe and exciting all at once.

unpopular opinion

*kicks the hornets nest* There's a side of Ed that does enjoy cruelty and violence and making people scared of him (and part of his journey is going to be reconciling and balancing that with the equally real side of him that wants to be pampered and loved and treated gently.)

song i associate with them

always Grace Kelly by MIKA but a recent and very strong entry is Both by Todrick Hall

favorite picture of them

(he is SO PRETTY and I like wallowing in heartbreak)

✨️ character ask meme!

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary5

today was more or less boring compared to yesterday but really that just means it's a nice day inside.

but look at my knees! those are prints from the socks i was wearing yesterday, they were getting ground on the stage kind of so it left those marks on me, which is pretty fun and honestly not too painful, when i showered it only hurt a little, but the soreness everywhere else is kind of insane, my head feels so heavy, it makes me think of how babies can't support their own heads because their necks are so weak, and somehow my forearms have a soreness that i've never felt before, ever, i think.

today's arc is interesting, i woke up in basically extreme pain and very hungry, and during the morning my gf and i got in mild, i dunno ~thing~ which isn't an argument but us being mutually frustrated less at eachother and more because like, we're hungry and sore so we're on edge. it's the kind of thing i could forget about if i didn't already make a point of remembering that stuff so i can make sure it doesn't happen for those exact kind of reasons in the future. after that the whole day was mostly us doing our own thing, she made gyoza and i made ramen, right now there are dishes in the kitchen that i might do, but it's just the blender from a smoothie. i guess the arc is interesting because it's weird how days can have parts that disappear sort of, unless you keep it in the back of your head, and even then, all that really lingers is that it happened and that you don't want it to happen again but it's so not a big deal that it's like, i dunno, not hugely upsetting. maybe this also has to do with waking up pretty late today, it's 1 am now and it barely feels, idk, over, or whatever. i woke up at 1, which is stressful because i need to fix my sleep schedule for doing vocals this week, but i imagine i can.

speaking of music i mixed vocals a little differently on a song, so hopefully they'll come across a little better, and then i can be finished with this song soon enough when i get the levels all right, they do sound better now, just too loud currently in parts and too quiet in others. i also got more lyrics done which is exciting, and then i replaced a synth thing and layered it in another song and i just sounds way better, it was so unsatisfying to me prior that i was thinking i'd just trash the song.

it's weird doing this every day, not that i wanna stop, i guess i wish i were more forthcoming, but idk, i get hung up on writing out my day, so i can at least remember that better or know it better, or something. but idk, what is it about not being forthcoming that gets to me. idk, i wrote more today too, just a little but that's good, it's headway in figuring a relatively small part out anyways. anyways, i want to write faster, i guess i'll try to be faster right now and not think about what i'm saying, and just talk, to myself, about today or anything. anything is so broad, i'm freaked out by how little i have to say, i feel like i'm trying to make myself seem empty at myself a little and i don't know it, but i don't know what proves substance anyways, and i get in my own way because i feel like i have such little energy, which makes sense i guess, right now my girlfriend is staring at her computer writing something and today i took the trash out and didn't like being outside really but i need to go on more walks i think, but i feel so weird, i dunno, it's so hot, maybe that's become an excuse or something. and i need to talk to my mom but honestly i worry about her even wanting to talk to me. she seems short constantly now, i dunno why, i guess just misery of the regular sort, because of my stepdad. he makes her life sort of awful at home, he doesn't listen to anyone and he talks forever, he's basically trapped her there and i can't do anything but i feel like she thinks maybe i could do something, or maybe she wishes i could because i got out, but as far as she can tell i'm not trying and it's not like i'm supposed to but she wants me to so she could be free a little while or something and i think sometimes she really might decide to kill herself, because she did try before so it's not out of the question. that's not something i can even figure out how to help at this point outside of texting her sometimes but i don't want to be annoying. i also feel bad for my stepdad, like maybe he wants to talk to me too, but he goes on forever about the same things always. eventually, he'll end up bringing up how he almost went to the olympics as a swimmer or something. i don't want to be like that, i don't want to have nothing to talk about except everything that happened to me, i want to be alive right now, and in the future, but i don't even know if i am. i'm basically alive because i think i can finally be pretty now, is that all that possesses me or am i just saying that to be dramatic, or is that a stupid way to pose the question or whatever, i dunno, it doesn't matter or it matters a lot but i'm not ready to parse the fact that i'd ask myself if i'm being dramatic over all the other possibilities. but it's on my mind a lot i guess that i think i'm super histrionic and maybe i think i do everything to be looked at, because if you're looking then i'm like, validated in being where i am right now because there's eyes on me, but i always hate the eyes and i hate being looked at especially like that except sometimes i really like it because it's proof i'm x/y/z or anything else, like being pretty is the perfect example because if someone obviously is staring at me in that way and i have my ass out on purpose, it for some reason feels good to have male attention even though i hate them and that i can sort of sense what kind of porn they're putting me in as they stare (it's i guess really obvious or i feel like it is because they have to be able to tell right) and i dunno, whatever, it's dumb, it's so stupid to be tethered to the need to be wanted like i am, since at least one person really does want me all the time at least, it should be enough but it isn't, and there's never an enough, there's an infinite void when you're seeking attention or at least conceiving of yourself as seeking attention. it's so gross, i hate it, i want to be pretty and i want to feel it as true inside myself, so i don't need anyone else, but we always will need everyone else, i don't actually not want to need anyone, i like depending on others.

tumblr made me go to another text thingy. that's weird. i guess that thought can end there because it was making me feel like a hundred million maggots were all over me which is something i wanna learn how to draw cuz i actually feel that way always, in each way you could imagine it, the miserable/disgusting/erotic+sexy ways, which is probably pretty weird but i mean it earnestly, that kind of stuff has always been put together for me which makes me kind of a nightmare i guess but it's all i have had, it's like my special hole i get to live in, it makes me feel nice saying it, asserting it i guess. like yeah i am horrified always and that's found its way into every part of me and i'm so in love with it.

tumblr talking to me while i was writing, i guess talking this whole way with me cuz it always pops up to tell me it saved my fucking draft like thank you tumblr but you can probably do that and not say it right? or can i turn that off. idk i'm ssstupid like it says in my bio. for some reason elongating my s's makes me happy, it's a pleasure i feel in the seat of my chest, where my voice rattles when i sing sometimes, or the junction of my lungs/throat/ribcage and whatever cartilage and muscles there get wrapped up in the vibrating, my own bloody crossroads. anyways tumblr talking at me makes me think about how nerds from everywhere online come up with these weird sapir-whorf adjacent hypotheses about like, how certain website's cultures shape how you see the world and whatever, they give you a particular outlook that follows you everywhere, essentially inventing grounds for various kinds of digital nationalism. this is ugly and evil stuff i think, it's basically missing how these sites actually work and impress methods of engagement onto us all, and though these differ, they do tend towards similar kinds of content and have all been about accelerating towards those kinds of content. typically, it's always about anger/arguments reinforcing where you are but there's more, that's like, the boring thing, i just need to recall how i conceived of this the other day, it was only an inkling then, maybe a few sentences but a few sentences in your head is connected to like everything ever, or everything that birthed that handful of sentences/meaning/observation. i think what i'm thinking of in particular is twitter, twitter does engender a particular way of seeing/instrumentalizing the world around you to whatever ends that it basically deems most valuable. i guess i can leave thoughts have thought in a diary and return later, i just hope i do return, to this, i don't know why i'm feeling blocked off from the thought i had earlier, whatever, i'll think a little more about it, i should just relax more or something, i dunno why this matters so much to me either. or i know exactly why, i've lived online my whole life, none of these places are really actually cut off from one another, they feed eachother, especially now, reposting is necessary for all this stuff to work or for anyone to feel 'actualized' at least as actualized as you are intended to be by these systems which essentially govern our socialization, and so frustrated by whatever methods they're escaping by moving to the next site or whatever, they complain and react, and absorbing whatever drama cluster they're drawn to, which the content of doesn't matter, it's more the shape of the cluster and what it does, like, twitter controversy is the same in whatever circles, and so was tumblr drama last i remember it, it was all about a few people or a broader idea of the awful in the world rearing its head and you'd gawk, and flood to it in interest, it would fade, but i dunno, i don't care about these controversies that much, i think what's more interesting is the everyday use which involves these things as momentary interests you can gawk at, your morality next to naked people next to funny animals, the stream's always been the same it's just been getting refined, basically. there used to be a utopianism about all this access we have to eachother, it's sad to see people who were like that, and compare it to now, where these places we're essentially forced to, if we want to be in the broader world, because if we only go off to closed spaces where everything is curated, it's only that your stream is narrower (also it's important i think to note the supremacy of the image, especially the photo or the photographic ddrawing (of anime or whatever (obviously i know how i guess hypocritical i can come off pointing this supremacy out since i had 3 photos of myself in the last post (but also don't, because what i'm saying is that we're all victim to this and it's really awful how i feel like i need pictures of myself out there that i think look good as proof of prettiness--

-- + sacrifice to whatever/ whoever might see, and to the libidinal economy that governs the internet's image-sludge currents.)))) anyways asides aside (lol) i was talking about your stream growing narrower, it grows narrower and, was there an and, who knows, it does grow narrower and it prevents you from seeing outside your field of view, which is actually the addictive thing i think, about so many of these sites, you can see outside yourself and it will be fed to you in such a way that it seems strange/annoying or, rarely, kind of good so you decide you like it. it enforces an idea of identity that is about accrual, and what you cannot accrue you performatively burn, with great distance, a torch lit and tossed many miles to an unseen firepit.

this isn't the full articulation though, it's not close, it's not why i think these things are so interesting/frustrating. i guess the fact that this is unanswerable is why i've been approaching it for years. it begs you to look, dirty scopophiliac you are, and by looking / knowing, it (anything) becomes less dirty, dirty meaning alive, i think. you look at a horrible thing, and you know it is terrible, and you are excited by the awfulness, excited meaning agitated into some kind of activity, and becoming active, it's purified/sanctified. everything's been reduced into a kind of sanitary work/gesture, all images pass through and passed around lose meaning become less threatening or gain threat (so you know they are to be jettisoned) and all is defanged by what amounts to our complicity in a daily human tide whose goal is to alleviate boredom with structured programming pointed at random targets and developed by less random but nearly as equally numerous heads. it's interesting how much content is always downstream of a few people, too.

that can be talked about later i guess.

[yeyinde]

i am absolutely in love with all of this!!! it is so beautiful and perfectly captures everything i think about when i imagine Price in my head. This was intensely hot and I need a minute to cool off. It's perfectly smutty, sweet, and DEAR GOD JUST GIVE THIS MAN ALREADY.

A. Hair pulling?? I die. He is such an aftercare King, and I completely agree on him being antsy. It's why I see him as living in a big city since he can never relax/wants to be alone with his thoughts.

B.

John uses the same hands he’s drenched in blood to wring breathless, sobbing pleasure from your body, and that he can do that is something that he holds dear.

This was honestly so stunning to read. It's beautiful, and I can't express how much I adore the imagery.

C. I need 5-10 business days to process this. It was the hottest thing I've ever read, and I am weak.

D. And now I want to write first-time anal with Price 😳 

E, F, G: I agree with all of these! I have nothing to add except it was perfect!

H.

John is wonderfully hairy all over

OH YES HE IS.

I. This was so soft and sweet and AHHHH I love this so much!

The picture of you on your knees, his cock down your throat as he sits with you between his spread legs, is as appealing as the reverse, and he’d never make himself choose between one or the other. When he eats you out, his arms are wound around your thighs from underneath, pulling your pelvis in closer to his face as he buries his mouth and tongue and nose into your folds. When you finish on his lips, he will not stop. He wants to hear you wailing.

This

When John is needy and frantic because he tried to whet your appetite and got lost in his own want for you, you find it much easier to flip him over onto his back or press him down with a hand to his shoulder, and at that point he’d do just about anything you told him if only you’d let him have you. If you want to reap the benefits of him getting you back for it, you can bring him up to the razor’s edge of coming and then leave him there for you to indulge in later. Plan not to be able to walk after the next time he gets you into bed.

And this!!! The mental image of this alone is making me blush. OMG!!!

He’s only getting older. He’s gotten cranky about this several times.

At first I was laughing, and then:

You’ve reminded him more than once that he needs three squares and eight straights if he wants to actually have the energy to do what he wants to you, and neither are always readily available to him. He usually gathers you up into his arms when you say that, because in this big, horrible mess of a world he has a partner who treats him like the fragile human he feels he isn’t allowed to be.

I was crying!! This hit me! I loved it.

That’s a technique that fits within his tastes, and when you further inform him that butt plugs are great little tools to work up to anal sex, he gets on board pretty fast.

I completely agree with all of this! I see him as super traditional but once you open him up to certain ideas, he becomes quite devious. Likes to give you commands for when he's away, too. Which ones to use, and for how long. Expects videos to prove you listened.

V. I AM GOING TO DIE. GOD THIS WAS SOOO HOT!!!!!!

W. I laughed for an hour straight thinking about this. I love how you flesh out their relationship, and the awkwardness was so palpable. I live for this dynamic!!

X. 😳

Y & Z. Both of these were so perfect to me. I loved them to pieces and they completely captured the mental image of him in my head.

BABES!!! This was absolutely brilliant!!!!!!!! The fact that you dedicated this to me is so overwhelming - I am so blown away, and so underserving of something so lovely, and so incredibly thankful. I read this so many times - I absolutely adore this!!!! 🖤

NSFW Alphabet — Captain John Price

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mild daddy kink

Pairing: John Price x AFAB reader

Dedicated to @yeyinde who has been almost my sole inspiration for how down bad I am for this fucking man. (And because I know she’s working on her own version of this and I’m DYING for it.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Almost to a fault, John is both active and attentive. After he’s pulled away from you, breath coming out in heavy pants and hair mussed where you’d been running your hands through it (or pulling it—he really likes when you pull it), he’s already on his feet scrounging up a washcloth to clean up with, a sip of water for you both to get back some of that hydration that you’d sweated out, and would you like him to toss you your shirt, dove? He’s never really able to sit still on even the calmest of days, but all it takes to get him to lay back down with you is a sweet, soft plea to come hold you. John cannot deny you when you ask like that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn’t know if they’re his favorite, but John has a lot of appreciation for his hands. They’re weathered, scarred, and have carried out some of the most heinous acts a man can commit against another human being, but you also mewl and plead for those hands to touch you, to hold you tighter, to pin you down and mark you up. John uses the same hands he’s drenched in blood to wring breathless, sobbing pleasure from your body, and that he can do that is something that he holds dear. When it comes to your body, John loves your neck and your breasts. He has painted both with blooms of red and purple using his lips and teeth, and love to watch your breasts shake and bounce as he thrusts into you, one hand wrapped carefully but firmly around your throat.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Given the opportunity, John always prefers to come inside you. He’ll grab you in an iron grip, thrusting with a force that you’re certain will leave bruises, and bury himself to the hilt when he hits his peak, snarling into your skin as he rolls his hips against you to milk himself with your pussy. There is one exception though: if you’re taking him with your mouth, there’s nothing he likes more than to pull out and paint your jaw with his spend. Then he’ll yank you up, hands grabbing your face regardless of the mess, and kiss you messy and stupid.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to have your ass. Perhaps not the dirtiest of secrets, but he’s rather old-fashioned, and it feels dirty to him. Also, it feels unfair, since it’s an act he thinks only he’ll really be able to enjoy. You’ll have to be the one to bring it up, but you’ll get hints from him that he’s thinking about it—he’ll frame the little ring of muscle between his fingers when he spreads your cheeks as foreplay is heading rapidly toward the main event, or he’ll thumb your perineum when he’s plowing into you from behind, growling about how pretty your ass looks bouncing against him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

John has had few partners, but plenty of sexual encounters. He is not a man for casual sex—at least, not one-time flings—and prefers to dive deep into pleasure with people that he trusts. Figuring out what makes someone tick, what makes them lose every inhibition with him, is far more to his preference. He’s learned that to have sex means to learn about someone else’s body a little more every time it happens, and that sex really does only get better than even the best anonymous hookup.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Hands down, John likes to have you on your back with your knees hooked over his elbows. Any position, really, that he gets to spread you out and hold you open is his favorite, and he absolutely wants to see your face as he wrecks you. He consumes the expressions you make with a hungry, steely gaze, and he demands more often than not that you look him in the eye when you come on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

Humor is not really his thing, in the bedroom or out of it. That isn’t to say that sex with John is always serious and intense—he cares for you, deeply, and that includes your smile and your laughter. It is more accurate to say that John is looking for that lightness after the fact; after you’ve wailed and moaned and whimpered from the ecstasy he’s drawn out of you, he wants to make sure you’re grinning and saying how amazing that was once you’ve finished. You can tease him plenty about how into the act he gets, because he knows if he takes you to bed you won’t want to leave it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

John is wonderfully hairy all over, and when he has the time he keeps himself neat and groomed (he’s already maintaining the mutton chops, after all). His chest hair is dark and a little coarse, as is his pubic hair, which strains up his belly in a happy trail that can’t quite make it to his navel. His forearms, calves, and thighs are also generously dusted with the stuff, although years of tight military gear are starting to show their effect on how fast it grows. He’s not too worried about it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He can’t help but be at least a little romantic. You’re his, and his alone, and that’s a gift he is actively thankful for every day. He is not exactly prone to sweetness, but sex with John is always comfortable in that he is always paying attention to the little reactions you give when he touches you like this or thrusts into you like that. You find, even pretty early into the development of your sex life with him, that he’s as hungry for the way you respond to him as he is for the feel of your body in his hands.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You caught him with his hand around his cock once, at his desk on base and flushed red as he fisted himself in a tight grip. He’d called you there, in fact, and it had been at the beginning of your sexual relationship with him—he’d sounded out of breath and strained on the phone, and you’d hurried there to see what the problem was. As it had turned out, he’d started jacking off under the impression that you weren’t present, and then some background mental math had resolved itself to correct that assumption. It was the first time he’d bent you over his desk, but not the last.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

John truly does not like the word daddy, but that does not inhibit his enjoyment for the dynamic. He loves your acquiescence, loves the complete faith you put in him to take care of your needs, and even loves it when you give him the opportunity to lay down the law by being a brat. It’s half about the control—the heady opiate of power met with submission—and half about getting to give you what you desperately need from him. He loves to see you come absolutely unraveled, and loves to be the person you trust to get you there.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His office is a constant favorite. He doesn’t get to have you there as often as he likes, what with the international nature of his job, but every time the two of you have been within walking distance of it, he’s had you on his desk, on the floor, and across the couch against the wall at every opportunity. He’s a horrible tease about it, too—he’ll keep you speared on his cock for what feels like hours as you cling to your sanity, one eye on the locked deadbolt, your only barrier between bliss and humiliation, as John reminds every so often, “No, dove, you’re not allowed to come yet.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sometimes all he needs to see is the offset angle of the collar of your shirt to be ready to go. It makes him feel a little crazy, like being a randy twenty-something again with a cock that worked faster than his brain ever could, but that’s just the effect you have on him. More than once you’ve met him after your shower, skin still shimmering from the humidity, smelling fresh and hair a little damp, only to have him walk you back against a wall to work up a sweat and defeat the purpose of the bath entirely.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He does not want to actually humiliate you. Control is one thing—abuse is another. In the moment, he might growl about how needy you are, how perfect you look with that fucked-stupid expression on your face, but he will have a very, very hard time calling you a slut or a whore even if you want him to. Those are words, he was taught very early, that you do not call your partner, or anyone else. Period.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

John appreciates giving and receiving in perfect balance. The picture of you on your knees, his cock down your throat as he sits with you between his spread legs, is as appealing as the reverse, and he’d never make himself choose between one or the other. When he eats you out, his arms are wound around your thighs from underneath, pulling your pelvis in closer to his face as he buries his mouth and tongue and nose into your folds. When you finish on his lips, he will not stop. He wants to hear you wailing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

It all depends on what he’s trying to accomplish. If John is trying to get you to that place where words have stopped having any meaning and you are more an experience of pleasure than a person, he’s going slow, and he’s going hard. He wants to be as drunk on you as you are on him, too, and he’s had enough experience with the best Scotch he can afford to know that that dizzy, heady feeling belongs only to an endeavor in savoring it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are a tool in his arsenal that he uses to tease you, but he ends up teasing himself, too. That’s the point, of course, but sometimes it can backfire, and that turns into a rare occasion when John is not in control, is not trying to wring every drop of pleasure from you that you can stand. When John is needy and frantic because he tried to whet your appetite and got lost in his own want for you, you find it much easier to flip him over onto his back or press him down with a hand to his shoulder, and at that point he’d do just about anything you told him if only you’d let him have you. If you want to reap the benefits of him getting you back for it, you can bring him up to the razor’s edge of coming and then leave him there for you to indulge in later. Plan not to be able to walk after the next time he gets you into bed.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

John is perfectly willing to experiment with positions and sensation play, just as an example, but there are limits to what he’s willing risk. While the fantasy of the 141 watching as he fucks you dumb is a favorite of his, he’s not actually willing to get into a situation in which that might happen, both because you might not like it and because he needs to maintain a measure of decorum as commanding officer, no matter how unconventional his methods might be. He still thinks about it, though.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He’s only getting older. He’s gotten cranky about this several times. He can manage two rounds, three on a really good day, but he thinks he should be capable of more. He wants his body to obey his own command, and wants it to be available to you, in fact, whenever you want it. You’ve reminded him more than once that he needs three squares and eight straights if he wants to actually have the energy to do what he wants to you, and neither are always readily available to him. He usually gathers you up into his arms when you say that, because in this big, horrible mess of a world he has a partner who treats him like the fragile human he feels he isn’t allowed to be.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or on themself?)

John’s old-fashioned, and the wealth of toys available today frankly makes his head spin. He’ll feel a little intimidated, too, if you consider bringing a vibrator into the bedroom with him, because it will feel a little like a suggestion that he can’t please you with just his own body. Luckily, rather than get pissy, he will communicate this, and you get to tell him that the full idea was to let him edge you with the vibe for as long as the both of you could stand. That’s a technique that fits within his tastes, and when you further inform him that butt plugs are great little tools to work up to anal sex, he gets on board pretty fast.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If it isn’t clear by now—John is merciless. He plays the instrument of your body like a virtuoso, and only hears music in your begging and pleading. He’s never cruel and he never leaves you truly frustrated and unfulfilled, because that’s not who John is, but he’s going to keep your climax out of reach until he knows for certain that finally being able to come will wreck you. How is he being unfair, he asks, when he always gives you what you want in the end?

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Normally, sex with John is punctuated with growls, groans, deep snarls, and chesty rumbling. Keeping control of you also means keeping control of himself. But. When you catch him in those frantic moments, when his hunger for you far outstrips his desire to play those games of dominance and submission, you can hear him moan and whimper and almost weep when you ply his body with your hands and mouth, when you sink onto his cock at a pace leisurely and comfortable for you and agonizing for him. He will swear all colors of the rainbow, curse and praise you in the same breath, promise to get payback and promise you everything he owns if you would please, sweetheart, just please let him fuck you properly already.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He asked Kate once—ONCE—what he might be able to do, in her opinion as a woman, to take better “care” of you. She’d stared at him for a silent, awkward, infinite moment, and when she finally replied it was to address a completely different subject. He’d downed the remainder of scotch in his glass and asked the bartender for another. The best case scenario would have had Kate pretend to forget that he’d ever so much as thought to ask her, but no—later that night, she sent him a fucking Cosmopolitan listicle, not because she’s finally decided to be helpful but because she wants him to know: she remembers. She will always remember.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

John reaches about 6 inches fully erect, is uncircumcised, and is thicker toward the base of his cock. It’s an average length and shape, but he has never been, and never will be, an average man, not on the battlefield and not in the bedroom. His balls are a little larger than average, though, and they sit low and heavy. It’s actually rather fitting, for a captain who threatened to hunt a four-star general down.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You wouldn’t know it, because he keeps it under control as much as he does everything else, but John always wants you. There are hints of it—the intensity of his gaze, the low baritone his voice can reach when addressing you even in the company of others. The way he maneuvers himself into position at your side, not so close as to be unprofessional, but close enough to feel the energy radiating off of him in waves. You always get drunk on him, on what he gives you in bed, but sometimes it’s a surprise to be reminded that he’s every bit as intoxicated by you as you are by him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Part of the reason John gets up immediately to do the little chores of aftercare, at least sometimes, is to keep himself from falling straight to sleep. He isn’t always exhausted after he’s fucked your brains out, but the world is getting more complicated. His job is getting bloodier. Someone is always screwing over someone else, and he tasked himself a long time ago with fixing all of that. He has to be able to get up and do it. It’s why he’s honed the control he has over himself to such a sharp edge. It’s why, when he finally lets go and lets you take the reins, he’s never as mad or as frustrated about it afterwords as he is in the moment. But he really needs to be reminded that he’s allowed to rest. That he’s allowed to settle into the comfortable afterglow, to breathe in silence just for a little while. In the end, you have to be the one to ask him, wouldn’t you like to lay down with me, John? Wouldn’t you like to just hold each other, for a bit? And always, his answer is yes. When you ask like that, soft and sweet, he cannot deny you.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

Hey bestie can u make a eren x reader one shot where eren just won’t let the reader move on🙃

thank u anon for this lovely idea

scumbag!eren x crybaby!fem!reader

WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon, past toxic relationship, slut-shaming, possessive behavior, yandere tendencies,

WC: 1.8k

He pins your wrists against the dingy bathroom tiles with an unrelenting grip, and you swear you've never felt more claustrophobic in your life.

The dark-haired boy eyes the glitter on your cheekbones, the neon-colored eyeliner, the rogue on your lips, and the black satin of your mini dress exposing a substantial amount of plush thighs. He's never seen you like this-never allowed you like this before.

You almost feel like uncharted territory but nothing escapes his observant nature. From the tremble of your lips, and the water starting to collect in your lower lash lines, Eren knows this you. Maybe not who you were pretending to be in the strappy heels, low neckline, and the party-girl masquerade you put on in front of your shallow ditzy friends, but he knows who you really are. Vulnerable. Scared of your own shadow.

"E-eren,' You stammer, "Please let me go." You try not to think about the voice cracks, trying to sound as assertive as you could without meeting his eyes. Eren, of course, thinks you look like a baby mouse. Hopeless and trapped.

"Don’t you miss me?" He mummers into the nape of your neck. You have an explosive No prepared in the roof of your mouth, ready to sound out the single syllable, until his hand, adorned with chunky silver rings, covers your mouth, muffling your whimpers. You could taste the metal.

“It’s a rhetorical question.” He’s smirking, green eyes lit up dangerously under the too-white bright lights, “Let me talk okay? I just want you to listen.”

All you’ve ever been doing is letting him walk and talk over you. And then when you finally got the nerve to stand up for yourself-

“I haven’t seen you the past three months” his low voice interrupts your contemplation, “It’s like you’ve been ignoring me.” He finishes flatly, his thin lips stretched into a line. His multitude of ear piercings catches the light, glinting sharply.

It’s too overpowering, his close proximity after going cold turkey. His presence is like a drag of a cigarette after not smoking for months. Hurts your lungs but the remnants of what you used to feel with the sudden rush of nicotine bubbling up again. Because when all is said and done, you’re still deliriously attracted to him. And you hate yourself for it.

You try to focus on the other sensations, sensations that aren’t busy on the feel of his warm breath or his hands holding yours down. You can still hear the song playing from the club.

All my bitches feel like I dodged the county

Fucking with you feel like jail n——-

Yeah, it really did.

Changing tactics, he holds you by your neck instead, giving your aching wrists sweet relief but that relief is nothing compared to the panic of having his beefy hand on your thrumming pulse.

His grasp wasn’t tight. You could breathe, but it was the kind of tight that let you know he would go tighter if you didn’t listen properly. React properly.

“You’re fucking ignoring me again” he’s practically growling the words out, baring all teeth, “I know I’m pretty difficult to tune out, so I would like to know what the fuck you’re thinking about.”

His hand leaves your delicate throat- his knee between your thighs keeps you in place- to roam down the satin of your dress, the fabric clinging to every curve. You hate how scrutinizing his viridian eyes are, feeling a wave of insecurity wash over the previous hot-girl-summer confidence.

He hated how good you looked on the dance floor, laughing with your stupid friends like you had lost all your inhibitions. Hated that you looked so good, everyone could see it. Hated how you didn't notice his eyes boring holes into you. Do you remember the time how you used to be hyper-focused around him? Aware of every movement, aware of every tonal shift?

And now you didn't even look at him.

"Are you thinking of other guys? I saw you grinding on those men like a slut." He presses his body deeper, "Have you fucked any other guys since we broke up? You must have. I know how slutty your pussy is"

You bite down on his hand. Hard.

You're counting on his reflexes, for him to retract his hand and give you an opportunity to run to the door. But Eren has been fighting for years and predicts your maneuver. With a calculated sidestep, Eren lets go of his hand, before promptly slamming you against the bathroom wall again but this time front-first.

Clouds dance in your vision, and you're sure you would have fallen by now if not for him holding you up. Eren uses this newfound position to his advantage by groping your ass, rutting his dick against your backside.

Deciding to be petty, you let the spite-coated venom escape your pretty lips, "Yeah. I fucked so many boys, and they were so much better than y-"

Anger blinded him. Roughly, he turned you around to face him once more, forcing you to look up at the green-eyed monster. He flipped your dress up, nearly ripping it during the process, shoved your lacy panty aside, and plunged his fingers inside. He felt a visceral sense of validation course through him at finding wetness coating his slender fingers to your utter mortification.

"Liar. I know you haven't been fucking anyone else." His smile is all teeth, pearly white and sharp,

You gulp, feeling sweat beading down your neck and arousal pooling at the bottom of your stomach. Damn yourself.

"You don't know that."

He looks almost feral, green eyes in slits and hair all mussed up, falling out of his usual bun. The top few buttons of his black button-up are left unfastened giving you a gracious view of his smooth muscular chest, and the dangling silver cross-chain.

"No, I do. See a little birdie told me all you've been doing the past few months is crying yourself to sleep, and eating frozen meals. This is the first time you've been out since I broke up with you, huh?" Condescension drips with every word.

He thumbs away the tear falling down your cheek with a mocking kindness and adds, "There, there. Don't cry. Good thing I happened to be here tonight, right?"

You're full-blown crying now, too upset to care if you're smudging your make-up. This is the real you. This is how Eren remembers you.

"Awe, my precious little crybaby, don't worry. You came here tonight looking for dick? I'll give it to you. It's okay," He coos, breath tickling the shell of your sensitive ears. Well, every part of you felt sensitive right now.

You're rubbing your eyes, sniffling, "E-exactly. You b-broke up with me, so why are you here? Why can't you just let me be?"

The dark-haired boy sighs, and with an uncharacteristic softness, leans his head down to press his forehead against yours, and intertwines his hand with yours, noses almost touching.

"To be honest, it was just to teach you a lesson." A soft exhale, "I didn't think you'd actually stay broken up with me." He's crushing your fingers now, "Didn't think we'd be broken up with for real."

Your eyes flash with indignation, feeling your body surge with an emotion you couldn't qualify, "I don't care. Yeah, I was sad but god, you were a terrible boyfriend! I'm so much better off without you. All those lonely nights are still better than any night I've ever had with you!"

You're breathless by the time you're done.

"Done with your little monologue?"*

You can feel your shoulders shaking, and you almost want to laugh from the indecorousness of it all. How could he not care? Was this how little you mattered to him?

"I know you're lying because" Without any preamble, he shoves his fingers inside of you again, finding that spongy spot that made your knees weak, eliciting a soft moan from your downturned mouth, "You're wet. And you want me."

"In fact," an edge of excitement colors his voice, "I bet your insides are still molded to fit my dick."

It's hard to talk when one thumb is violently brushing over your clit, and his tongue is forced into your mouth, drowning any whines of protests. You close your eyes, focusing and unfocusing. A hand snakes up your dress to fondle your tits and tease your perky nipples.

It's just one sensation over another, and your sex-deprived body was welcoming all these feelings with open arms. Eren knows your body like it came with an instruction manual and that manual advised him to bite your earlobe, which was especially sensitive. He knew where on your collarbone you liked to be marked, how hard you wanted your nipples pinched, and how you could ride his face with complete abandon.

But right now, he didn't want to pleasure you. He's coaxed enough orgasms out of you throughout your relationship.

He unbuckles his belt and frees his long slender cock, the head a flushed angry red, dribbling with precum. He lines his full-mast cock to your entrance. Fully alert as to what was about to happen, pretty pleas of "no Eren, please don't, no" are falling out of your mouth, wide starlit eyes dotted with pearlescent tears. He kisses the top of your head like the way he always used to.

And then he thrusts himself inside. You give up so easily, he thinks. Do you even realize how you're swinging your hips on your own accord? How you're wrapping your lush legs around his waist to pull him deeper?

His pace is ruthless, making your head bob up and down. Moans and grunts drown out the music from the club. You're begging him to slow down.

"You're mine. Always mine. Always were. Can't fucking believe you really thought-" He doesn't even finish his thought because a violent shudder rips throughout his body.

Your nails are digging into his back, so sharp it could have been clawed. You could feel yourself right on the edge-

The door shakes to reveal a tall young man with slicked-back blond hair with a frat-boy laugh.

"Holy shit! Eren?!"

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkcufkcufckfuckfuckfuckfuc

Shame burns your face. You have no choice but to cover yourself behind Eren's broad frame. You're just hoping to every god he'll go away, and keep this to himself.

Your dark-haired ex-boyfriend turns around to face the blond, "A little busy here, Porco. Shut the door. I'm uh, getting reacquainted with someone."

"Goddamn. Is that ___" You don't even have to look at Porco to recognize how impressed he was.

"Get out Porco." Eren growls.

The door closes with a loud thud.

You're borderline hysterical at this point begging Eren to get out of you, but his grip on your hips is iron-tight.

Outside you hear stunned gasps, but one phrase stands out to your straining ears: "Yeah, I guess they're back together."

Eren kisses the top of your head once more, "After I fuck you, we'll go home together girlfriend."

----------

* {A/N}: This line "Done with your little monologue?" is inspired by this delicious fic by @hotwings0203.

[rebelwrites]

Mrs What?

Dominic Toretto x Reader

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Dominic Toretto Masterlist

This Months Writing

Requested by @pumpkin-spice-hate Can I get prompt 20. With Dominic Toretto please? “It’s us against the world.” Can I have Prompt 11 with Dominic Toretto? A game of truth or dare gets out of hand and Person A and Person B wind up getting married.

A/N: ngl this has taken me like two days to write and is probably my longest fic that’s a stand alone that I’ve done. We are just over 2k on this one.

Tonight was one of the rare nights that you were all together, things had been pretty quiet recently, and you weren't going to lie you missed the nights like this where everyone was chilling in the back garden, the bbq was on and the beers were flowing. There was only one thing missing though and that was you were single, and had been for a while now. No one was good enough, and you couldn’t help but compare them to Dom.

Your relationship with Dom was a tricky one, he had been your best friend for years, but over the last year or so things became flirty and on a handful of occasions when you had drank a bit too much ended up sleeping together. Everyone knew how you felt towards him but also knew that you didn’t have the balls to confess your feelings. So they let things be in hopes that one day you both would see sense.

“How's my favorite girl doing tonight,” Dom grinned, as he threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against his solid body. A body that always made you weak at the knees. Everytime he called you his favorite girl, your heart fluttered but you quickly shrugged it off because neither of you seemed to want to take the next step.

“I will be better once I have necked quite a few beers,” You laughed, looking up at him.

“Is that right?” He hummed, as a smirk graced his face, “Any particular reason you plan on getting shitfaced tonight?”

“No, no reason,” You shrugged, feeling your skin starting to heat up, as you knew he knew what you were wanting. “Just had a long week and what's better than drinking and hanging out with my favorite people.”

“Well you know where to find me, if you need anything,” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin, before he wandered off, leaving you in a bit of a frenzy.

If only you had the guts to come clean to him, letting him know that you wanted more. You didn’t want this weird ass friends with benefits when drunk relationship, you wanted to be his girl. But you doubt that would ever happen.

“I am not playing truth or dare,” You huffed, pulling the beer bottle to your lips, as you leant back against Dom. Once again you were sitting in your usual spot, between Dom’s legs. “You know that game is for horny teenagers, it sucks.”

“Or you are just scared that certain things may come to light,” Roman smirked, staring you right in the eyes.

“I suggest Rome if you don’t want this beer bottle shoving where the sun doesn’t shine then I would shut up,” You growled, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Got it,” He nodded, holding his hands up in surrender, “But we are playing this game so suck it up buttercup.”

Much to your annoyance the night went on, so did this god damn game of truth or dare, and so did the pile of empty bottles, meaning that tonight would end up going one way. Tangled in the sheets with Dom.

Every time it landed on you, you chose dare. You wasn’t going to confess to Dom over a stupid game. Your mind was racing, as Dom, had his hands resting on your shoulder, his fingers gently brushing against the back of your neck.

“Y/N, you are up kiddo,” Tej smirked, “So truth, which may I add you haven’t picked all night or dare.”

“Dare,” You nodded, taking a long sip of your beer, “You fuckers ain't going to get any truths out of me tonight,” You shrugged, with a slight slur to your words.

“Hmm lets see, I’m sure we can get a truth out of you even on a dare,” Tej winked, looking around the group, “I dare you to kiss someone that you have so many things that are unsaid to say to them.”

You knew what they were doing, they were giving you and Dom the push you needed, but you didn’t think it would work, if Dom was interested in anything more then surely he would be the one to initiate something, not keep dragging on a flirty friendship. Taking a deep breath, you downed the remainder of the beer, before tossing the bottle onto the ever growing pile.

“You know you are an asshole right?” You huffed, folding your arms across your chest.

“Just hurry up and do it woman, we ain't got all day.” Roman laughed.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you let your heart catch up with your head. This could be the push that you both needed to get your acts together. Pushing yourself to your feet, you wasted no time in spinning around, locking gaze with Dom. A flirty smile appeared on your face as you placed one leg either side of his body, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“There's so many things to say,” You whispered against his lips, “things I have kept hidden for a while.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond as you smashed your lips against his, as his hands found their way to your ass, as your lips worked in sync. This wasn’t the first time you and Dom had kissed but things sure as hell felt different, there was a lot more passion in this one kiss than ever before. Your stomach felt like it was about to explode as the sparks you felt caused the hairs on your skin to stand on end. You could have carried on kissing him forever but your lungs were starting to burn and you needed air, so reluctantly you pulled away, keeping your eyes closed as you rested your forehead against his.

“So I think we need to talk about a few things,” Dom hummed, against your lips, “I think we have both bottled things up for far too long now.”

“Do you want to go for a drive?” You whispered, finally letting your eyes open, staring into his brown eyes, “Get away from all these fuckers staring at us.”

“Come on then trouble,” Dom whispered, “With the amount we both have put away tonight I think a walk along the beach would be better.

That was the last thing you remembered of the night.

The sunlight that shone through the living room was blinding, why did no one think to close the goddamn blinds, your back was aching from sleeping on the sofa, curled up to Dom. Opening your eyes, you squinted, letting them adjust to the brightness of the room, a couple of the guys were awake and holding their head in their hands as the hangovers set in.

One thing that confused you was the fact you were now wearing a dress, you definitely wasn’t wearing a dress at the start of the night, so what the fuck happened after you kissed Dom around the fire?

It was too much to think about right now, your head was pounding, it felt like the room was spinning, and you were far to content tucked under Dom’s arms, so you nuzzled you face into his body and drifted back off to sleep in hopes that the hangover wouldn’t be so bad.

The sound of pots and pans being crashed around woke you up, groaning as you pulled your arm over your face, why were people being so loud? Going back to sleep did fuck up in heloing with the hangover and it currently felt like you had a baby elephant stomping on your head, and also you were now the only one on the sofa, at somepoint Dom had gotten off the sofa, more than likely for a piss.

“Morning sleepy,” He smiled, passing you a mug of freshly brewed coffee,moving your legs so he could sit down “How did you sleep?”

“Okay I think,” You half laughed, before taking a sip of coffee, “Hanging out of my arse though,”

“I think we all are feeling the effects from last night,” He nodded, “Do you remember last night at all because you passed out around 3am,”

“Honestly the last thing I remember is us going off for a walk, after that it's just blank.” You admitted, suddenly feeling a stinging on your finger causing you to look down at your hand, you cocked your brow at your hand as you saw the cling film wrapped around your ring finger, along with a cable tie that wasn’t fully tightened.

Slipping the cable tie off you placed it on your lap, before slowly unwrapping your finger to be met with the blank ink of the letters DT, now you were extremely confused, what the fuck happened last night and why couldn’t you remember anything. Looking over at Dom’s hand, to find he had the same just with your initials.

“Oh Mrs Toretto is finally awake,” Roman said with a childlike grin on his face.

“Urm excuse me,” You said not looking up from the black ink, “Mrs what?” You were in shock, there was no way that you and Dom got married last night was there? You tried your hardest to piece together anything from after your memory went but nothing was coming to mind.

“Mrs Toretto, seriously I think you're going deaf right now.” Roman laughed, leaning back against the other sofa.

“Do you really not remember last night?” Dom asked, rubbing his hand along your bare thigh, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I am not going to lie to you, I remember nothing after us going for a walk,” You whispered looking up at him. “Did we really get married?”

“Yeah we really did,” He nodded, pulling his phone out to show you the pictures that had been took the previous night. “It started off with a dare, at first you told Brian to fuck off, you wasn’t going to marry someone on a dare, but after a little while of us fooling around in the kitchen, I asked you and you said yes so we went off to find the nearest place that would do it.”

“Wow,” You mumbled, placing your hand on top of his.

“But if it isn’t something you want then we can go get it annulled, and I completely understand if that is what you want.” Dom sighed, dropping his gaze from you, he knew that it was too much when he asked you last night, feelings had only just been admitted and there he was blurting out the question whilst you were both drunk as fuck, neither of you had proper riings either, just some shitty cable ties and a tattoo.

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to say or think. This wasn’t how you had dreamt you would get married, you thought you would have a somewhat big day, involving the cars and your whole family. Right now you just need a little bit of space to process everything.

“I need a moment to myself,” You whispered, moving your legs off Dom’s lap, pushing yourself to your feet and slowly scurrying out of the room, as you left the living room you didn’t miss the look on Dom’s face, he looked broken.

Sitting on the decking, you placed a cigarette between your lips, lighting it whilst letting your gaze fall on the mountain of empty Corona bottles. Maybe you would remember something from the night before, even if it was a small thing at least it would be something.

Everything happened so fast, one moment Dom had no idea what you were feeling and the next you were his wife.

Half an hour had now passed and you were still sitting on the decking, trying to piece together the night before. You saw the hurt in Dom’s eyes when you walked out of the living room and that hurt you more than the hangover.

“What you thinking?” Dom asked, as he sat down next to you.

“Just how crazy the last 24 hours have been,” You breathed, “I never thought for a second I would end up married, like this time yesterday you didn’t even know my true feelings for you and now we are married.”

“Like I said we can get it annulled if you want,” Dom sighed, “I don’t want to force you into anything.”

“Who said I wanted to get it annulled?” You asked, looking up at him, taking your hand in his, “Yes it wasn’t how I had seen myself getting married but I can remember bits, I mean my memory is still pretty hazy but it’s something. And cable ties for rings, that's a new one on me,” You giggled, resting your head on Dom’s shoulder.

“Hey, it was all I had on me at the time,” He chuckled, kissing the top of your head, “It's just you and me against the world babygirl, I know we have done things completely different and back to front but we aren’t normal people, we do not play by the rules.”

“Yeah we have never played by the rules,” You giggled.

“Come on then Mrs Toretto,” Dom grinned, “lets go get some breakfast because I don’t know about you but I am starving”

@chibsytelford @phoenixhalliwell @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @withmyteeth @jessprins13 @rightwhereiwantyou @jasonbabymama @pumpkin-spice-hate @garbinge @zozebo @nightlywords7 @pancakeisreading

[donutloverxo]

NSFW alphabet | Chris Evans

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - This is written just for fun. I don't know Chris or what he likes lol. I also don't own the alphabet format.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Warnings - rpf, smut, daddy kink, d/s relationship, dom Chris, anal stuff, semi public sex, spanking, sex toys, praise kink.

Word count - 2.5k

A=Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Chris is clingy as fuck after sex. He’ll hold you close to his heart (you being the lil spoon of course) and not let go the entire night. With soft kisses on your face, hair and on any bruises he might have left on you. With some pillow talk about how his love for you can overwhelm him sometimes, that he can’t imagine not having you not that he gets to have a taste of you almost every night. Sometimes he likes to listen to you talk about your day, or share a deep secret you hadn’t told anyone else.

His clinginess is something you adore. Something which you would usually be fine with, how he just could not keep his hands off of you, but when you’re somewhere tropical and hot it becomes a bit of a problem.

You were visiting him while he was filming for red Sea diving resort, after seeing him in the beard and the longer hair you couldn’t help yourself and you just jumped on him. After some hot and sweaty sex, you had moved away from him a little, with your back to him you wiped the sheen off of your forehead with the back of your hand, trying to fan yourself with your own hand, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he had growled. Not wanting even an inch of distance between the two of you. You tried to protest because you needed to cool off but eventually gave in.

B=Body Part (Their favorite body part)

Everyone knows the answer to this. He likes your ass the most. It doesn’t matter if it’s a flat ass or a thick one he’ll love it the same because it’s a part of you. He likes to smack it, he likes looking at it, he may even like to fuck it. Some stretch marks would just be the cherry on top.

His next favorite would have to be your hips. He loves to see their silhouette through your yoga pants or jeans, or even a dress. After a night of some rough fucking they usually bear his handprints which he loves obviously because it’s almost like he branded you as his own.

C=Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)

It’s always a battle with the two of you when it comes to cumming. Because Chris likes to see your body covered in his seed, particularly your face, ass and breasts, and you like to have him do it inside you, be it your pussy or your mouth.

Which he doesn’t mind obviously, he likes the idea of his spend being in your tummy, but he also likes taking pictures of your ass covered with his spunk. You just look so pretty when he comes on your face🥺

D=Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Chris has fucked you in more bathrooms than you can remember. It’s become a thing or almost a ritual now. Whenever he takes you to an event or a party, or just a casual dinner at his family or friends house, you’ll end up on your knees in the bathroom with his dick in your mouth, or he’ll worship you and eat you out till you literally can’t even walk straight.

It started when you accompanied him to an important event, he was extremely anxious. And you felt helpless because you didn’t know how to make him feel better. But you did know one thing that always lifts his mood up. So you dragged him to the men’s room and sucked him off. He was much relaxed the rest for the evening thanks to you.

E= Experience (How experienced are they?)

VERY. He’s extremely experienced. He has a lot of knowledge and puts it to good use on you. Which can be a little daunting if you’re more on the inexperienced side but don’t ne afraid. He’ll train you really well, you just have to be a good girl and listen.

F= Favorite Position

His favorite position would be doggy style. Where he’s doing from behind, with you on your hands and knees, or with your head down and ass perched up to him because you never can stay up right when he’s doing you so well. He has full access to your ass, if you’re okay with it he would use his fingers on you, spank your ass. He loves to grab your hips or your ass and your breasts.

He’s also a huge fan of missionary. Because he can’t see your pretty face, or look into your eyes from behind. Most days he wants intimacy and to show you how much he loves you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Depends on his mood. Sometimes he’s a bit goofy, like talking in a comically exaggerated Boston accent when you told him you liked the sound of his voice and how his accent becomes more prominent when he is horny.

But most of the times, he’s in control. He has to maintain some composure so you wouldn’t question who’s really in charge or think that you could get away with anything. Because you know how to make him laugh, and if he let’s you do that he couldn’t keep a straight face while punishing you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Chris has dark Brown pubic hair, like that of his beard and the hair on his head.

Does anyone remember that term ‘manscaping'? Where dudes trim their pubic hair to make their dicks look bigger. Chris definitely does that. Although he doesn’t need to because like if he got any bigger he might split you in two.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Doesn’t matter if you’re making love, or fucking hard it will always be intimate and loving with Chris in one way or another.

If you feel needy, and like you want him to show you how much he loves you, you just have to sit on his lap, bat your lashes at him, show him your puppy eyes, and hump his leg a little. He’d get the sign and take you to bed, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, drawing it out for the both of you, his fingers laced with yours, pinned above your head. He’d feast on your breasts and nipples the whole time just so you could feel his love and need for days.

If you’re feeling particularly frisky, or in a mood to piss him off just so he could be rough with you without you having to ask, you can just give him attitude or roll your eyes a lot. He’ll spank your ass raw, or edge you for hours, or make you climax till it literally hurts, depends on his mood really, to teach you some manners. But since you like the punishment you never learn.

Even while he’s got you over his knee, you not wearing anything but the diamond necklace he gave you, your cheeks wet from crying for the past fifteen minutes, your ass on fire but you still had to take more from him. He tsked, reprimanding you for ruining his expensive dress pants with your slick, playing with your intimate lips, he’d say while stroking your head, “It’s okay, baby, daddy still loves you. Even when you get on my nerves.”

Even while fucking you like he hated you, he made you felt loved and as if you were the most precious person in the world.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When you started dating, Chris would often masturbate to the thought of you. But when you started sleeping together he never felt the need to, and you asked him not to do it anymore because you didn’t want him wasting his cummies.

Which might’ve been a huge mistake in hindsight because you revealed a weakness of yours. Now when he REALLY wants to punish you, he’d just tie you up jerk off his cock right before your eyes, “See this, sweetheart? I could be fucking your sweet pussy right now, and making you feel good too, but you had go and be a bad girl.” He’d come all over your face or breasts, and would of course make you come too if he feels you’ve learned your lesson.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Chris has a huge daddy kink. He doesn’t just like the title, he likes everything that comes along with it.

He likes that he has to take care of you, in and outside if the bedroom, being a daddy is a 24/7 job, he has to be considerate to you and grateful for all the trust and love you give him.

He also really likes pinning you down. Whether it be during play wrestling or during sex, it makes him feel strong, and it drives you crazy, absolutely feral for him.

L=Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Yeah you’ve had your share of sneaking off to do it during events but his favorite place to do it would be in the privacy of his own home, preferably his bed so that your dog won’t walk in on you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you simply say, “Screw me.” That would probably be more than enough to turn him on and fulfil your request.

But what grinds his gears is seeing you in tight clothing, or the kind of clothes that would show off your assets. If you’re a good mom to dodger, if you show an interest in the things he likes or do anything that would make his heart flutter and make him fall more in love with you.

N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never have proper public sex because that would probably interfere with his public image and work. Other than that he’s pretty open to most things.

He also wouldn’t like to invite anyone else to your bedroom or to share you. It is a nice fantasy for him but way too risky.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both giving and receiving equally. He likes having you on your back where he can see your face while he explores your intimate walls with his tongue, but he also likes to have you ride his face. You were apprehensive to at first, but with some convincing you agreed.

Sixtynine is another one of his favorites. He never actually had to ask for it. You were sitting on his face, holding onto his stomach and screaming when you felt your orgasm approaching, he pushed your head just a little, you got the hint, and started working on his cock, which was painfully hard.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

It would usually depend on what kinda day it is and how you’re both feeling. But most of the time he is usually slow but at the same time rough. Where his thrusts are drawn out but also impactful.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Chris loves quickies. Bending you over the kitchen counter, a quick session in the afternoon on the couch when things got a little too heated while cuddling, in his trailor while he’s on a break, in the shower where he can make you dirty before cleaning you up. You made it.

But he wouldn’t prefer them over proper sex ever. Usually he likes to take his time with you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

He’s game to experiment to a certain extent. Even if he’s skeptical about something he’d keep an open mind and give it a shot for you.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

He’s a fit and motivated man so he can last for a long time and go for many rounds. It’s more likely for you to be tired and tapped out than for him.

If it was a long day on set, and if he’s a little exhausted then he may not be able to go more than once. But will make up for it when he can.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You both own a variety of butt plugs and vibrators, silky ties, blindfolds, handcuffs that Chris likes to use on you. You even bought a ball gag asking him to put it on you, which was the only time you ever used it because Chris liked to hear your voice and for you to call him daddy or say his name. You couldn’t do it with your mouth full.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chris teases you a lot, but he would be a MASSIVE tease if he was a little more patient. He knows the effect he has on you. How you can’t take your eyes off him when he wears a t-shirt that’s a bit too tight and shows off his arms, how you can’t help but grab his butt sometimes and feel him up. When you bite your lip or look away when he catches you staring. If you get caught, be prepared because he will only do it more just to egg you on.

His touches a bit too light, he’d bring you to the edge and leave you just there. But fortunately it won’t last long because usually he’s the one who ends up getting riled up.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s loud alright. And he isn’t ashamed of it. He would never try to hide how good you make him feel, or miss an opportunity to call you a good girl and praise your gorgeous body. There will be lots of grunting and groaning and moaning and you revel in every second of it.

X = X-Ray (Let s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s pretty big. Much bigger than average. He looked pretty average when he wasn’t hard, you let that fool you into thinking you could take him pretty easily, he wasn’t that much bigger than anyone else you’d had sex with right?

Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw him hard, his dick hard and thick and a blush pink, two thick running on the sides of it.

He assured you that he would make it fit and that you had nothing to be worried about.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty high. Higher than most people at least. You call him your horndog, but like in a nice way, because he always wants it. Even if you spent an entire night screaming his name and being used and stretched in ways that made your pussy as well as your body sore, he would still ask for more the very next morning. He’d respect you if you say no and back off immediately but he’s up for it whenever you want.

ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he has things on his mind, and if you fall asleep sooner than usual then he’d be up a while. But most of the times he falls asleep quickly after.

[rizubaby]

Polyamory | Mondo, Leon, Shuichi & Rantaro.

genre ; nsfw headcanons.

request ; some NSFW headcanons for Mondo & Leon and Shuichi & Rantaro in a polyamorous relationship with the reader.

tags ; gn!reader, boyfriend(s) experience, polyamory, mentions of jealousy/slight competition, rough sex, praising, degradation, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of sex toys, vulgar language.

note ; since the request didn't specify, I went with a gender neutral reader to make it inclusive for all. Hope that's ok! Also, AHHH I had so much fun writing this!! I immediately got some inspiration for Mondo and Leon, so I couldn't wait to start writing! In any case, I did my very best and I hope you like it. ♡

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

Mondo and Leon

Honestly, being in a polyamorous relationship with these two is so chaotic omg

I mean, they love each other A LOT, but there's some unspoken rivalry between the two of them

They love you most of all, so they'll do anything to get your love and affection

It just so happens that these two can get a little jealous fairly easily, even of each other (guys, you're boyfriends. Come ON)

Both of them are show-offs, especially Leon. So when you spend some quality time with him or show him some love he'll tease the hell out of Mondo, and it pisses him off so much lmao (because he wants some love too!)

This happens a lot, mind you, but it almost always ends up with you guys having sex again lol

Even so, you're very close and in a wonderful and loving relationship

Leon's love language is quality time (as you might've guessed), and Mondo's is definitely physical touch. The guy is all over you every chance he gets

He likes slapping your ass the most hehe

Oh, and the sex is GREAT. You have nothing to complain about in that regard let me tell you-

While you do have sex just one on one with either one of them, you definitely have threesomes the most, duh

They're both very rough when they want to be, and it is so hot, but they also balance each other out wonderfully

When Leon's slowly making his way inside you (which can be quite painful sometimes), Mondo's always hushing you and giving you soft kisses all over to soothe you

Or when Mondo's mercilessly ramming into you from behind while he's pulling your hair, Leon's underneath you either playing with your nipples or caressing your stomach and planting hickeys everywhere

Like I said, b a l a n c e

They love penetrating you both at once, though it doesn't happen very often (since they're like,, literally ripping you in half)

Ooooh, blowjobs too! Imagine sucking one off while you're stroking the other, you're all hot messes by the end of it

They're both very lust-filled individuals, so there's usually not a ton of foreplay before the main course

BUT IT'S A FUCKING BUFFET

Funnily enough, the slight competition these two have doesn't translate to bedroom activities, as they're too focused on making you feel good and giving you tons of orgasms (which usually ends with them accidentally overstimulating you lol)

Leon likes to watch a lot too; while Mondo's eating you out or fucking you hard, he likes to stroke himself and watch as you drown in the feeling of pure extacy

Seriously, the faces and sounds you make is enough to make the both of them cum instantly

He likes to get himself so worked up, so when it's finally his turn he can go all out and it feels fucking amazing

Mondo loooooooves making out with you. Yeah, it's that simple

The feeling of your soft lips on his, your tongue, the soft whimpers you let out while you're kissing, fuck

When making love with you, he'll drunkily plant sloppy kisses all over you and cover your entire body in hickeys

Lots of biting and dirty talk too

"F-Fuck, you feel so damn good baby... You ready to cum for me?"

THE MOANS THESE DUDES PRODUCE ARE TOP TIER

Like seriously, you'll get weak to your knees in an instant

Also, Leon likes to cum on your face or chest area the most, while Mondo prefers cumming inside :)

Mondo is actually really good at aftercare, he's so caring and gentle (especially after some wild ass sex)

He takes good care of you and asks you every 2 seconds what you want/need

Leon likes to lay there for a little bit and recover for a bit next to you, gently caressing your face and praising you

When everybody has rested for a bit, you'll shower or bathe together (and probably fall asleep on the couch afterwards)

Rantaro and Shuichi

Such good boyfriends, awe

The amount of sappy shit these two do and say on the daily is almost overwhelming

They're like, so in love with you and with each other,, I'm soft

Shuichi is the type to take care of you a lot and helps you out with everything, be it housework, cooking (oh, you love cooking together!) or anything else

Rantaro is the type of guy to show up randomly after work with flowers for the both of you, he's so sweet

Their love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time, respectively

They both are very big on words of affirmation too; they want you to feel loved and appreciated

SUCH GOOD BOYFRIENDS OMGGHFHDSJF

Just like Mondo and Leon, they balance each other out amazingly, it's literally heaven on earth

Shuichi is very much a switch (we know this), and Rantaro is such a great soft dom

When it comes to sex, all you really do is have threesomes because you all enjoy it the most with all three of you and it wouldn't feel as good with one of you not present

Sex is often very romantic and sensual, but there's plenty of room for rough fucking as well

Shuichi definitely loves to praise you and be praised, his words are so kind and loving

"I love you so much sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this..."

Rantaro loves praising too, but when he's in the mood for some really hardcore sex, he really gets off on degrading you (but like, in a sexy way, not a mean way)

"Who are my little naughty sluts, hm~?"

Rantaro has a really broad spectrum of kinks, he's into a lot of things

Whatever you're into, he's ready to go

He owns a few toys, so if you're comfortable with that he'll add some extra spice in the mix every now and then

(So watch out for being tied up or having a vibrator stimulate you until the batteries run out)

Though the sex on it's own with these two is already fucking incredible

Shuichi is such a pleaser. He'll do anything for you; eat you out, caress you, kiss you, edge you, etc

Overstimulating you is secretly something they both love to do, so be prepared for that

again, the SOUNDS THESE TWO MAKE-- *faints*

Rantaro's raspy grunts and Shuichi's soft moans are so fucking good together, my god

You always always ALWAYS have at least three orgasms when you have sex with these two, because they just love seeing you writhe and squirm afterwards

Rantaro loves cumming inside your mouth. God he's so naughty we love to see it

Shuichi doesn't really mind where he cums, the sight of you enjoying his seed anywhere is already enough for him and makes him weak to his knees

Aftercare is so wonderful with these two, omg

You'll all be snuggled up against each other and kissing each other lovingly after another intense lovemaking session

They'll keep telling you how much they love you and that you did very well, you mean so so much to them

Rantaro usually takes care of you and Shuichi after a particularly rough session, getting some towels and a damp cloth for any scratches/bruises/etc.

I mean, those rings are bound to leave some marks, especially when he's been very rough

He'll get you some water too (because hydration is important!) and then come back to cuddle up next to you again, slowly drifting asleep in each other's arms.

[schweidens]

Mammon NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mammon’s a softie - he definitely wants his partner to feel comfortable after sex and he’ll cater to their needs

Honestly, he hasn’t had much experience with a long term partner, so he isn’t super familiar with the concept of aftercare. But worry not, he’s quick to learn. He’ll prioritise cleaning you off and offer to run you a hot bath and remove the sheets, and tend to any wounds you might’ve sustained if the two of you were extra freaky that night

Once all that is done, he’ll dive right back in bed with you, peppering you with kisses and cuddling you till the next morning

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Mammon loves his abs - he’s worked hard for it and he knows that they look good. He’ll get particularly blushy if you comment on how muscular and toned they are

You hands are his favourite body part of yours. Not only does he love them when they’re wrapped around his hard cock or when they’re pulling his hair and marking his back, he also just cherishes how your hands touch him so delicately; how your fingers lightly brushes upon his at any given chance, and how your hands just fit in his so perfectly

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a really big load and his cum is extremely thick and creamy. It’s slightly bitter but you still swallow every timr

Mammon loves cumming all over your face. As the avatar of pride, it’s no surprise that he receives pleasure in marking you. Seeing you with his load all over your face allows Mammon to relish in the face that you’re his and only his

He’s also a big fan of cumming inside. Mammon loves how you trust him enough to let him fill you up, and just the thought of you filled up to the brim with his cum gets him going for another round

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The two of you attempted to fuck in Lucifer’s room once while he was off meeting Diavolo. Unfortunately, Lucifer returned sooner than expected, and almost caught you in the middle of the act. Mammon got a beating and a lecture, and you were given a disappointed sigh

He’s also too scared to admit that he’s very much into sensory deprivation. Mammon loves the thought of being tied up, blindfolded, and a gag in his mouth, with a plug up his ass and a vibe on his cock

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s a demon, and having lived for thousands of years before, he knows what’s he’s doing

Mammon has had his fair share of sexual encounters with witches and succubi and his body count is definitely high

That being said, he knows how things work and he knows how to please. You cum every single time you have sex with him

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mammon’s a big fan of cowgirl, he finds it so unbelievably hot to see you bouncing on his cock on top of him, with full view of your face and your tits. He also loves it when you’re in control, and this position grants you that

He also loves missionary because again, he loves seeing your face when you have sex. He could cum just from looking at your lewd expressions. Missionary also allows him to me a tad more romantic and intimate, so when you’re having a more vanilla session, Mammon can hold your hand while the two of you are chest to chest as he thrusts into you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s occasionally goofy. Cracks a joke here and there so the two of you can laugh while you hold a lighthearted conversation as you fuck

However, if the two of you are having jealous, rough sex or passionate, intimate sex, Mammon prefers to remain more serious in the moment and focus on pleasuring the two of you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He does take care of his pubes but it isn’t like he’s completely shaved clean down there. Trims it occasionally so there isn’t a bush, and is overall pretty well groomed. He doesn’t really have much of an opinion on it, so if you want him to grow it out or shave it all off, he’ll do it

The carpet most definitely matches the drapes. Yup, white pubic hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

We all know that Mammon’s a touchstarved baby — years and years of taunts and insults from his brother really does damage, so it would only make sense that he would crave loving, intimate sex

Lots of sensual kissing, murmurs of i-love-yous, handholding, and praises thrown here and there. Passionate fucking and slow thrusts till the two of your both cum together

He’s a romantic boy deep down. If you were to ever surprise him with candles and roses and lingerie he’d break down in tears

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Mammon jerked off a lot more before the two of you got together. He feels extremely guilty for doing so. But he can’t help thinking about your pretty face when he’s stroking his cock. Almost always ends up pulling out his DDD to look at a picture of you while he’s masturbating

He doesn’t really masturbate that much anymore after getting together, with an exception of mutual masturbation, which he thoroughly enjoys. He finds it so hot to jerk off while watching you touch yourself right in front of him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. Be sure to tell him how well he’s fucking you, how good his cock feels, how much you love him.

Mammon also loves overstimulation — jerk him off while pegging him and he’ll become a sobbing mess. He’s also a fan of over stimulating you, and will aim to make you cum multiple times during foreplay

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The two of you have had sex in virtually every spot in his room. Across the pool table, in the car, on his bed, you name it. Mammon’s a bit more traditional, he loves doing it on the bed the most. No risks of banging his head on the car window or whacking your shin on the side of the pool table

Outside of his room, he’s also done it in numerous locations in the House of Lamentation. His personal favourite is the planetarium, since the two of you almost got caught by Satan while doing it in the library

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A simple touch on certain sensitive spots can easily turn Mammon into a flustered, blushing mess. Run your hand up his thighs or give his butt a firm grab and he’s already semi hard

Dirty talk can easily get him going. Whisper a few lewd sentences into his ear and he’s instantly turned on. He’s also easily motivated by sexts and nudes, and will reciprocate the favour by sending back a nude of his own

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Mammon is not into being degraded. He’s already experienced enough with his brothers’ constant insults so insulting him bed would be an instant turn off.

He’s also not a fan of anything that involves pain. He doesn’t want to see you hurting because of him, no matter if you ask him to

Mammon’s also not into the idea of threesomes. He doesn’t want to share his partner, plain and simple.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a huge fan of both. Loves to feel his cock in your mouth, with your tongue swirling around his tip, and always comes extra quickly when receiving a blowjob

Mammon loves how you taste and indulges himself in eating you out. He won’t hesitate to ask you to ride his face, and his tongue is skilful enough to make you cum a couple times during foreplay

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the situation. If he’s feeling particularly emotional or romantic that day, he prefers to do it slow and sensual with maximum intimacy between the two of you

On special occasions — such as your first time, your anniversary, your birthday — Mammon will usually opt to keep the pace slow and sensual

If he’s jealous or angry, he will not hesitate to be rough. Expect him to be thrusting into you at a rapid speed with occasional spanks here and there. He’ll also go rough if you ask him to

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mammon’s not the biggest fan of quickies since he wants to be able to enjoy being intimate with you without a time constraint

However, if he’s particularly frustrated or horny, he won’t hesitate to pull you in a spare closet for a couple of minutes to have a quickie

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mammon’s always up to experiment with different kinks, as long as they’re not outrageously weird. He’ll try almost anything once, especially if it’s something you’re into

He’s not one for risks, usually, with an exception of public sex. The idea of being caught excites him, so he’s more than willing to fuck you in a semi public area

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s a demon, so it’s obvious that his stamina exceeds those of humans. Mammon can go for a good five rounds, given that there are small breaks in between to let him get down from his high first

Since his stamina is considerably better than yours, he’ll usually let you decide how many rounds you’ll be having

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Mammon himself doesn’t own any toys. Poor boy is too embarrassed to walk into a sex shop himself, and doesn’t dare ordering them via Akuzon in case Levi accidentally finds them.

However, he’s more than open to experiment with sex toys with you. Mammon loves using a vibrator on you, and also loves when you use it on him. He’s also open to you using a strap-on on him. Once he gets over the initial embarrassment, he’ll be more than willing for you to peg him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you’re having jealous sex or angry sex, Mammon does not hold back on the teasing. He’ll fuck you senseless till you’re approaching your climax, and then stop completely. Mammon will edge you multiple times until you’re on your knees begging for his cock

However, he’s usually weak to you and he’ll easily give in to you pleas for him to fuck you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mammon’s shy and ultimately always tries to hide his moans but it never turns out that way. He’ll try to bury his face in your neck to mask out his lewd sounds to no avail

Over time, he becomes extremely vocal during sex, unafraid of voicing out how good it feels to have his cock ramming through your sopping heat

He mostly lets out low, breathy moans and groans, but when you’re dimming him, he’ll release the prettiest, high-pitches whines you’ll ever hear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mammon once decided to use ‘Lucifer’ as his safeword. It obviously worked and instantly turned the both of you off, but it was difficult to even look at Lucifer in the eye in the passing week

He’s a huge fan of lingerie and will not hesitate to use his precious Goldie in order to buy you more expensive pieces. They turn him on to no end, especially black, lacy lingerie

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mammon’s quite big, at 8.5 inches erect. His cock is nice and girthy, particularly thick around the middle. There’s a bulgy vein down the side that rubs your walls oh so perfectly every time he thrusts into you. All in all, he has the perfect dick

Mammon also has a bubble butt, and he loves it when you smack the globes of his ass. Instant turn on.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mammon doesn’t like admitting it, but he has an extremely high libido. He’ll be more than willing to fuck you multiple times a day, and he cannot go three days without having sex with you

Sex with Mammon is pretty routinely and occurs several times a week, or even more if you’ve been purposely teasing him throughout the day

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He gets pretty sleeping after cumming, but he makes sure to never fall asleep before you. Mammon will make sure that he’s done aftercare properly before sliding into bed beside you and holding you close till he falls asleep

It brings him joy to be able to fall asleep with you in his arms after sex, and he loves the sheer intimacy of it all

[jamilelucato]

The Duff  || Fred Weasley

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (any house)

summary: your life became too stressing lately, and Fred Weasley, although generally very annoying, manages to distract you just enough when he stops talking.

A/N: completely based on the book The Duff. Like completely. So reader may have some issues with her appearance. Sorry about my other fics! It’s just that, when an idea pops, I have to write. It’s a big fic. (feel like it’s one of my brightest works)

words: + 11k

warnings: insinuations and mentions of sex; body insecurities; sick father, etc

Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series

You couldn't understand what could be the fun in going to Three Broomsticks to party. The place is one of the oldest bars in Hogwarts, but not long ago, Madam Rosmerta decided to add a dance floor in one of the darkest sides of the pub, and she got one of those muggle music machines. It was very nice if your thing was dancing in sweat and rubbing your body in people.

Easy to say it was most definitely not your thing.

"Okay, that's it for you," said Madam Rosmerta, taking your mug away. It once was filled with butterbeer, but the barmaid seemed to think you had gotten it filled way too many times for a night.

"Oh, come on," you complained, "there's no alcohol on those."

"I know. But it has sugar, and you had one too many," Rosmerta said, ignoring your pout and walking away from your side of the counter so she could serve other costumers.

Your brain fought a battle to decide if it was worth contesting and explaining that not offering you more butterbeer was causing the barmaid to lose money when the stool next to you cried with the weight that was jumping on it.

"Good evening, y/n," said the boy who now sat next to you.

It was inevitable when your eyes rolled just by smelling his cologne. There was no need for you even to turn to know who it was. Only one boy in the whole Hogwarts was confident enough to wear such cheap cologne as if it was holy water.

"Get the hell away, Weasley," you cried, wishing, profoundly, to have another butterbeer with you.

Madam Rosmerta noticed the new client sitting close to the counter, and she quickly came back to serve him.

"Fred Weasley," she greeted him with her playful smile. She knew the Hogwarts teenage boys only flirted with her in hopes of a discount, but she enjoyed it, considering it rather fun. "What can I get you?"

"My usual butterbeer, Ro," he said, charming her with his smirk. She chuckled, while he passed her a coin.

"If you're getting him one, you're getting me one too," you warned the barmaid, raising a brow. Your serious approach worked because, with a sigh, she walked back with two drinks.

You tossed her your coin.

"That is officially your last one, young lady, so you better enjoy it," she threatened before leaving and playing with her hair solemnly for Fred to see.

He was still smiling when you decided to look at him. He was a bastard, but, boy, was he handsome.

"You have five seconds to disappear from in front of me now that you have your drink," you warned. Even though Fred's eyes followed the back of Rosmerta, yours was still staring at him. Maybe the amount of disgust you felt for him could pass on with a look.

"Chill, would you?" Fred took a sip from his mug, supporting his arms on the counter, finally looking at you. "If you're so bothered, the dance floor awaits."

You chuckled, frowning right after. "Look, Weasley, don't you have any other girl to fuss around?"

He smirked, thinking you were falling for his game. "Do you have friends you'd like to suggest?" he played, raising his brows. "Is Jess still single?"

"I'd be dead if I let you stay even one meter close to my friends, do you hear me? I don't want them catching any diseases," you shivered just with the thought of how many girls (and STDs) this boy before you might have encountered.

"So they are here," his eyes narrowed as if he was scanning the dance floor, searching for your girls.

"Go away, Fred," you sighed, tired of that conversation. You took one sip of your mug, but the butterbeer was no longer enough to keep your mind away from Fred Weasley's affairs. "And stay away from Jess and Casey."

"Oh, y/n, just put a good word for me, please. I mean, it is your job," Fred leaned in, closer to you and his scent attacked your nostrils again, making you lean back.

"It's not my job to help you, Weasley."

"Well, as their duff, I think it is," he drank from his mug, ignoring your confused look.

"Duff?"

Asking him what the word meant called his attention back to you, but he seemed surprised you hadn't heard about it yet. "You know, designated ugly fat friend," he replied, making a peculiar gesture with his neck as he spoke the last term.

You couldn't possibly have heard him right. "Excuse me??"

"Look, I don't mean to offend," he shrugged his broad shoulders, a gift from all his years playing Quidditch.

He noticed how fast your expression was changing.

"It's not like you're an ogre or anything, but in comparison…" his eyes wandered back to the dance floor, this time yours followed, seeing Jess and Casey — your longest-time best friends — dancing with some other students. "Think about it. Why do they bring you here if you don't dance?"

"Shut it, Weasley. They bring me here because I'm their friend; stop with your nonsense," your mind was working incredibly hard to stop you from believing that you were the ugly friend. Because that could not be the truth. Especially if everyone already knew and the one to tell you about it had to be the most annoying Gryffindor.

Fred had the nerve to reach over and pat your knee, but you jerked away from him. "Look," he said, "you have hot friends… really hot friends."

All the butterbeer you had drunk was starting to make you sick. Perhaps Rosmerta had been right, but if you had to bet in a guilt part, you'd bet on the ginger.

"The point is, in a group of friends, there's always a weak link, a Duff. And girls respond well to guys who associate with their Duffs."

"Where are you getting this info? The Quibbler?" you never meant to offend the Lovegoods, but Fred Weasley was speaking rubbish at this point.

"Don't be bitter," Fred pressed his lips together, pausing. "What I'm saying is girls find it sexy when lads show some sensitivity and socialize with the Duff. So, please, help me here, and just pretend to enjoy our talk."

There it was, in front of you, the living, redheaded proof that stupidity is capable of making people persevere for years. You already knew that Fred was a womanizing asshole, but it was unexpected to find out how worthless as a human being he is, too. Pretty faces definitely aren't everything.

With one swift motion, you jumped to your feet and flung the contents of your mug in Fred's direction.

The remaining butterbeer flew all over him, splattering his striped polo collar shirt. The liquid got his ginger hair wet entirely, which surprised you because, usually, you wouldn't have such great aim.

His face burned with anger, and his chiselled mandible clenched angrily. "What was that for?" he snapped, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"What do you think it was for?" you snapped.

"I have no possible idea."

Madam Rosmerta appeared again, giving Fred a white cloth to dry himself, but it wasn't enough. Part of you wanted to be mad at the waitress for helping Fred, but you knew she just didn't want him to ask her to take you out.

"If you think I'm letting one of my friends leave this place with you, Weasley, you're very, very wrong, " you spluttered, staring at him with fire in your eyes. "You're a shallow jackass, and I hope that we never cross paths again."

The stupid muggle music played so loud that no one but Rosmerta overheard you, and she probably found you awsome. She loved some teenage drama.

You grabbed your friends as quickly as you could. They were about protest all the way to the secret passageway back to Hogwarts, so you decided it was best to explain what was happening.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked. Her once perfect dark hair was now wet — part of you wondered if the sweat even belonged to her. For such a smart Ravenclaw, you expected more of her.

"Let's get back to school; I just can't stand to be in this hellhole for one more second, " you said, dragging their reluctant bodies along behind you.

"Why are we leaving so early? It's only, like, nine-fifteen," Jess asked, frowning a bit, looking at you with her sad big blue eyes. Her Hufflepuff charm was about to work on you when you remembered why you were living.

"I got into an argument with someone, " you said, and Jess puppy eyes quickly disappeared, opening the place for her angry face to emerge. "I threw my Coke on him, and I didn't want to stick around for his response."

"Who?" Casey asked. You'd been dreading that question because you knew the reaction you'd get.

"Fred Weasley." two girly sighs followed your answer. "The guy is a man-whore. I can't stand him. He sleeps with everything that moves, and his brain is located in his pants—which means it's microscopic."

"I doubt that, " Casey said with another sigh.

"He's a jerk," you said, hoping your voice sounded like it was final. The tunnel back to Hogwarts seemed endless.

"That's not true," Jessica inserted. "Katie Bell told me he talked to her when she was alone at the Yule Ball. She was with Angelina and Alicia, and she said he just came up and made conversation, really friendly."

That made sense. Katie was definitely the Duff if she was out with Angelina and Alicia. And you knew for a fact that Angelina left with Fred that night.

"He's charming, " Casey said. "Give him some credit." Her smile slowly faded when she remembered that you threw at him your beer. "But what the hell did he do to you tonight, huh?" Now she sounded concerned. Took her long enough.

You sighed, noticing that saying something would only make their worry and you really wanted to avoid their pity. "Nothing, " you lied, "Fred just pisses me off."

Duff. The word bounced around in your mind as you three reached Hogwarts. When you took a last look at your friends before each parted to your houses, Fred's statement that you were the unattractive, undesirable tagalong seemed to be confirmed.

Jessica's perfect hourglass body and big brown eyes. Casey's athlete's features and impeccable skin. You definitely weren't like them.

"Well, see you tomorrow for the feast?" Jess asked the two of you.

You and Casey shared tired smiles. Although Casey would've like to stay a little longer at the Three Broomsticks, she welcomed extra sleeping hours. Her Quidditch player schedule didn't leave her much time to rest.

"See you," you stated, walking away slowly, letting your feet lead the way to your dorm where you'd try extra hard to forget the whole Duff thing.

 -

You picked your blanket up to your chin, not wanting to get out of bed so soon, even though you could very much get late for Snape's class.

Fred Weasley words were hunting you like a ghost. They shouldn't be, because you sure didn't care about his opinion. But the courage he had called you that disgusting abbreviation and how you seemed to find the one out from every single group of friends you walked past.

It had been a week and a half, so why did his words bother you? You were brilliant and a good witch, always there for your friends. Thus, who cared if you were the Duff?

If you were charming, you'd have to deal with lads like Weasley hitting on you. Ugh! That could be a Duff benefit, right? Being unattractive didn't have to suck.

Damn Fred Weasley! You couldn't believe he managed to pack your head with such superficial bullshit. Getting out of bed with a jump, you were committed.

You wouldn't think about Duffs ever again.

-

Thursdays were homework day, at least for you and your best friends.

When classes were over, the three of you would meet at the library for a long late afternoon, reading through books and doing assignments. And, of course, spilling some tea with whispers.

That afternoon was being way bored than you expected. It was like Jess and Casey interrupted your reading all the time to tell you something new, but that day they seemed to have nothing to say.

And when I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Suspicious.

You stared at them, who pretended they hadn't been facing you all along and turned back to their essays.

"Okay, what is it? You two are awfully quiet," you whispered, leaning closer to them, scared the librarian could hear you.

They exchanged looks before, sighing, Jess gave up on her silent treatment.

"Remember when we planned on going to Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" she pouted, trying to work her big eyes on you.

"You two planned, you mean. I never agreed on it."

"We kinda find dates to go with us," said Casey, ignoring your comment on the matter.

You stared at your two best friends, holding yourself to not laugh.

"Thankfully. I never said I wanted to go," you pointed out with a smile, turning back to your book.

Jessica didn't seem satisfied with you looking away just yet.

"We can find you a date," Jess suggested.

You chuckled. "Alright," you spat — the possibility sounded ridiculous; principally when Fred's words still echoed in the corner of your mind.

"y/n, you have to come," Casey's tone was more serious. "You never go out unless we force you. So, if you don't want a date for yourself, you are thrid-wheeling."

"Not in Askaban, I am not!" you protested, raising your voice way too much but thankfully nobody was around.

Jess tried to work her puppy eyes again. "Please," she sobbed. "If you don't come, I'll feel guilty. Do you want me to ditch Cormac?"

"You are going with Cormac??" you asked, genuinely concerned because he was younger than you, but then you recalled he wasn't younger than her.

"Just show up," said Casey, not really allowing you to object. "I'll pay you a butterbeer."

Her offer was very, very tempting. You had no idea if one could become addicted to butterbeer since yours never had alcohol, but you're getting closer to that.

"But I'll only stay 'till nine," you informed.

The two girls smiled, and Jess had to hold herself from clapping in excitement.

"That'll be enough," said Casey.

 -

"Is your father okay?" Casey asked you as soon as Jess left, and she had the open opportunity to corner you.

She was the only one in the school that you were brave enough to confess what was happening to your father. He had been recently attacked by some Death Eaters, and the Cruciatus curse left him with severe brain damaged.

It happened during the summer, before the start of your seventh year, so you had a couple of weeks to recover from that news before going back to school.

But when your mom's first letter arrived, saying your father was getting more insane with time, no amount of preparation was enough to hold back your tears as you ran out of the Great Hall.

You were able to lie to Jess, but with Casey, you weren't so lucky. Besides, her mom worked at St. Mungo's, so she already knew about your dad way before you told her.

It had been two months since you've been ignoring your mom's letters, all of them. You are too scared to read what they've got to say, and she doesn't let you go back home anyways.

You wanted to be with him, your father, hold his hand, make him better. But your mom was firm on her decision about you graduating Hogwarts.

So, when you stared at Casey's beautiful face, you had no idea what to answer.

"He can't get better," you said, in tone way harsher than you were planning. Who knew that not speaking about a matter would make you feel more painful towards it?

Casey gulped — she was always like that: she would touch the wound, but she had no idea what to do about it later.

"Do you want me to write to my m..."

"No," you quickly answered, not even letting her finish. "I just need to graduate — then I'll deal with my dad."

"It will take longer while 'till graduation, y/n," Casey pointed out. She knew you were convincing yourself it was just a couple more months, but that was a terrible lie you no longer could satisfy yourself with.

Casey wanted to do something, but taking you out was all you allowed the girls to do to you. You hated the new club atmosphere of Three Broomsticks, but you had to admit, it was pretty distracting.

"Promise I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Promise," you said, before leaving your best friend alone in the hallway.

 -

Snape's latest assignment stood before you, with a lot of notes from the Professor, pointing out all of your mistakes.

And there were a lot of them.

When class ended, you walked up to the Professor, gulping and shaking. You knew he didn't dislike you, but you were never too careful with Severus Snape.

"Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes?" he turned to face you; his black robe swirled with his movement.

"I just want to know if this essay was, hm, a big part of this year's grade?" you asked, avoiding looking in his dark eyes. "If so, can I do something else to improve my grade?"

He swallowed before answering, his serious tone implicating he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"You used to be my best student, Miss y/l/n, but this year you turned into the worse," he said, pausing in that terrible way only he knew. If your last year's grade hadn't been an Outstanding, I would have written you off my class by now."

You stared at Snape, unsure of what to do next and terrified of the man before you. He never treated you that way.

"Sorry to bother, Professor," you said, leaving right away, knowing very well that he had just ruined your rest of the day, including the night with your girls.

But what would you tell them? They would say that Snape was always like that. And even Casey, who was bloody smart, didn't have classes with Snape anymore. She would say for you to drop it too.

Your mind led your feet to the Moaning Myrtle's abandoned bathroom. There, your cry could be confused with hers by those who passed by. Thus, no one would disturb you.

The ghost wasn't even startled when she heard you come in, crying, and throw yourself on the floor near the sinks. Myrtle has seen you there since the school year started when you read your mother's first letter.

You usually went there at night, when you were sure you wouldn't see anyone. But after years of trusting Professor Snape — and believing that he would never mistreat you — what you heard today was the culmination.

When you decided you had cried enough, you headed out of the bathroom, holding your Potions (terrible) essay closer to your chest. You walked around the castle, but, perhaps, your eyes lost contact with your brain — the next thing you knew, you ran smack into Fred Weasley.

As if I needed more reasons for wanting to die.

You stumbled backwards, and your essay slipped from your arms, heading straight to the floor.

The ginger boy grasped you by both shoulders, his big hands catching you before you had the chance to slip over your own feet.

"Watch it," he said, steadying you.

You two were standing way too close to each other, and once again, you could smell his cheap cologne, this time it seemed to spread all over your body. Bloody hell, am I gonna smell like Weasley now? You shivered with disgust, but he misread it.

"Trouble standing up?" he joked, looking down at you with a cocky smirk.

He was really tall — you'd forgotten that, sitting next to him at the Three Broomsticks that night.

"Do I make you weak in the knees?"

Ignoring his stupid question, you knelt down to get the essay, and he did the same, grabbing it first. You forgot how to breathe for a second, hoping he wouldn't try to read it — and notice all the corrections Snape had made with permanent ink.

However, as soon as he grabbed it, he was handing it over to you.

You took it and brought it back closer to your chest, stepping away from him and his stupid perfume and stupid touch that sent weird and uncomfortable chills through your spine.

You were starting to walk away, leaving him behind when you heard:

"Thank you, Weasley," he attempted to copy your accent. "See you around, Weasley."

But you rolled your eyes and didn't even venture to look at him again.

-

How you managed to get out of your dorm and show up was all Jess and Casey's fault. If they hadn't been talking about you going out all week, and then Jess almost crying for you to appear, you would've rather very much stayed in bed.

You drummed your fingers on the wooden surface of the bar, your mind far away from the muggle music and your very dance-pants friends.

Your mind was tricking you in remembering about your father, something you were really trying to push away. Why hadn't you insisted on staying with Dad? Why hadn't you read mom's letters?

You kept imagining your dad, wallowing in his misery… alone. You wondered if at least your mom would visit him at St. Mungos. They were never the clingy type of couple, but maybe now she could be more sentimental.

But neither you were sentimental. So why now? Why care so much for your dad when he was never that much of an extraordinary parent?

"Evenin', Duffy."

Why did that nitwit have to sit next to you?

"Go away, Fred," you scolded, looking down at your fingers, playing with your empty mug.

"I can't, " he said. "First of all, the only reason you're here's that I taught you and your friends how to scape Hogwarts," you rolled your eyes while he continued, "besides, I'm not one to give up easily. I am set to snog one of your friends," he shrugged as if he was the biggest gentleman on Earth.

"Then go talk to the one," you suggested, not even turning to see his face.

"I would, but Fred Weasley doesn't chase girls. They chase him."

His sentence stayed in the air around as for a second before you burst in laughter. He couldn't be sober to say something like that. You faced him, finally, and confirmed — he very much had just arrived, so he wasn't drunk. He was just stupid.

Handsome, but stupid.

"Til they come to me, you get the honour of my company," he said, and then he took your mug away from your restless fingers. "Lucky for me, it doesn't look like you're armed with a beverage tonight."

You awaited for his laugh, but it never came.

"What is it with you today?"

"Already told you I'm not in the mood, Weasley," you reminded him.

"What's wrong?"

"Go...away," you warned, slowly.

You no longer good handle the tension burning inside you, it had to be released in some way, and it needed to be right then. But you didn't want to cry, not in front of a bunch of students partying, and there was no way you were going to vent with the dimwitted next to you, and punching someone would just get Rosmerta disappointed.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Fred asked, touching your shoulders carefully. He was forcing you to face him, even though he was being too gentle for his usual. "y/n?" 

Then it was like your systems had stopped working — like a magic spell went wrong. Your only excuse is that you were under an unbelievable amount of stress, and you detected an exit.

You needed a distraction, and your chance was staring at you with sparkly eyes. Regret was the last thing you were thinking about.

An opportunity sat on the barstool beside you, and you lunged at it, literally.

You kissed Fred Weasley.

You grabbed him by polo neck of his red t-shirt, pulling him closer and locking your lips on his. He froze at first, but it didn't take him more than three seconds to understand what was happening, and the hand once on your shoulder was now on you cheeks.

Fred returned your urge, biting your lower lip, making his way inside your mouth with his tongue. Your hands left his neck and went to his hair, surprised to find soft hair.

His hands flew to your sides and pulled you toward him as if his hair was the secret to his horniness. As you wrapped your fingers in the strands of red hair, his fingertips dug into your waist.

It worked better than punching someone would have. Not only did it help you release the tension, but it distracted you. It's hard to think about your dad when you're making out with somebody.

He leaned into me, and I hauled at him so hard that Fred nearly fell off his bar stool. At that moment, both just couldn't get close enough to each other. Your separate seats seemed like they were miles apart.

Nothing existed, but the physical connection — there were no emotions in the way. It was amazing not to think. Nothing! Nothing… until he screwed it up.

His hand slid up from your waist, lingering along your back, and came to a stop around your boobs. Everything flooded back, and you suddenly remembered who had his lips on yours.

As fast as you jumped on him, you leaned away, taking your hands from his hair and shoving him away.

His hands dropped, one landing on your knee, as he pulled away. He looked astonished but weirdly pleased.

"Wow, Duff, that was—", but he never finished. You were already gone, running out of the bar and rushing to get to the secret passageway.

You didn't look back. If Fred followed, once you got to Hogwarts, he turned around.

When you reached your dorm and jumped on the bed, your heartbeat was impossible to keep track. You told yourself it was because of the run back to the school, but your mind was still playing flashes of the snogging session that had just happened.

It wasn't fair to remember his touch and how out of limits he was —good kisser, but still a jerk.

You didn't want to admit it, but you were madder at yourself than at him.

 -

Two days.

That was the amount of time you managed to stay away from Fred Weasley since the little "incident".

One thing was for sure: it had numbed completely any stress your father situation was afflicting him. It had even made you forget about your recent bad grades.

Now, every time you got distracted, the only thought that filled your mind was a non-stop replay of the kiss you and Fred shared. It made you feel weirdly sick in the stomach, and you swore you could feel his disgusting touch as if it dirtied your body forever.

Jess and Casey didn't even bother arguing with you about leaving early that night — they felt guilty because they left you alone at the counter. Of course, you didn't tell them about the whole Weasley situation, but, even though Jess seemed clueless, Casey noticed your change in action.

How defensive you were towards their questions, more than usual. How you avoided spending too much time at the Great Hall.

So, when she purposely asked you to watch her Quidditch practice, you knew she was testing you. Perhaps Casey thought something worse was happening to your dad and if that was her bet, you wouldn't be the one to make her see the other side of the coin.

"Came to watch me play?" an annoying voice asked, calling your attention to your left where Fred Weasley stood flying up in his broom. His torso was tilted towards you, who was sitting in the stands.

One look was all you took for your mind to fill with disgusting memories, and your stomach was killing you once again. You faced back the field, where Casey was supposed to be practising, but, apparently, the thing was over because she and her teammates were nowhere to be found.

That explains the Gryffindor in his robes, you thought, sighing and gathering your things before getting up.

Fred was still staring at you, analyzing, expecting.

"I'm not here for you, Weasley," you spat.

Your temper surprised him, but he managed to recover before you could notice.

"What a pity," he sighed, letting the corner of his lips turn up. "I thought you wanted a second dose of fun."

You stared at him, with your angry issues burning up. If before kissing him he already had his ways of pissing you off, now it was like he was power was ten times stronger.

Your first thought was to hex him right there and then, but he wasn't worth that much worry.

"That wasn't fun, Weasley," you decided to state the obvious; something Fred seemed to have been having trouble understanding.

"You seemed very entertained twirling your fingers in my hair," he smirked, holding a chuckle while your eyes widened and you closed your fists.

"That was a mistake; I wasn't in my right mind," you said, clenching your teeth in rage. That boy was driving you crazy.

From behind him, you recognized Casey, walking on the field, already out of her Quidditch robes and holding her broom with just one hand. You knew that was your way out.

"Fine, blame it on the butterbeer," he sighed, "if it's what makes you sleep at night."

"What makes you think, Weasley," you paused, stepping closer to the end of the stands and closer to the ginger, "that I think about you at night?" you raised your tone involuntarily, letting your emotions get the best of you.

"Your body language, for one, Duff," Fred smirked again, feeling his win just because you were getting out of control.

Last time you were raged like that you had kissed him, so perhaps it could happen again.

But the nickname set you back. You were still bitter, but now you remembered why — it was because of that shallow nickname and that stupid boy.

You turned around and stepped away, to the end of the stands. You needed to get out of there as fast as you could.

"See you around too, Duff," you heard Fred shouted, but you didn't dare look back.

Casey met you at the end of the stairs, where a bunch of Gryffindors were crossing paths with the Ravenclaws leaving.

"Was that Fred Weasley? Talking to you?" was the first thing Casey asked when you were close to her enough to hear.

"Yep," you sighed, still tense because of your conversation.

"Godric! Is he hot in his Quidditch uniform!" she gasped, but different from you, she had that romantic, girly look on her face again. It made you wanna vomit.

"Please, Cass, you can find someone hotter than him," you protested, frowning.

"Someone hotter doesn't take Fred's hotness away," she argued, raising a brow towards you. She was messing with you, of course, but knowing it didn't make it easier. She didn't know about the kiss, so for all purposes' sake, she still thought you would never even touch him.

"Can't you just pine over — hmm, I don't — George Weasley, his twin?" you said, sarcastically. "If you think Fred's hot, George is too, and I'm pretty sure he's a better person."

"Too vanilla," she replied as if it proved her point.

"How would you know?" you asked, but couldn't help but burst in laughter with her, both very sure this conversation wasn't going anywhere.

Casey was right again. Not about George being vanilla — that you couldn't be sure, being that you had never talked to the chap. You couldn't manage to say more than three words to George, his presence always made you kinda weak in the knees.

But George didn't know about it, and neither did your best friends, and you intend in leaving thing at that. George was kind of your platonic crush, it was healthy to have one (probably), and he was never cross that line.

Funny, huh, how George made you feel starstruck, and Fred made you wanna kill yourself.

The thing Casey was right was about Fred being hot and charming. He was appearing more times than often in your mind, and for the rest of the week, he no longer popped as a replay of a kiss. Fred was appearing in your mind as new sexy scenarios, things a deep part of you wanted to experiment. And apparently, with him. Yikes.

You tried to convince yourself that those scenarios were with George (had happened before) but, at this point, you knew how to differentiate the two very well. And, deep down, you knew who was the ginger biting your neck and intertwining his legs in yours.

And that infuriated your guts.

 -

"You did that for what?"

Your question echoed to the Great Hall, with a dozen of heads turning to what the little show you were putting on.

It was not your intention to make a scene, but, at that moment, you were more enraged than you'd ever been your whole life. Casey was your best friend, and you knew sometimes she was bold for the greater good, but you doubted that doing what she did was for the greater good.

Because you were feeling like shit.

She had intercepted your owl with your mom's letter about your father's condition. Casey had observed that you were ignoring your mom's messages — last night she went to your dorm room with Jess for a girls night, and ended up finding accidentally a box packed with the parchments unopen.

So she planned on getting your owl before it dropped its letter over you and she managed to sit next to you and starting reading it aloud, without telling you what she was reading.

It was only when she got to the second line of the thing — "they say they are doing everything they can and they don't want to raise our hopes, because his chance of recovery is almost none"— that you realized that it was your mom's words.

You got so angry as never before, shouting at Casey to shut up, and without overthinking, you cast a fire spell on the thing. Thankfully she dropped the parchment before it burned her hands, but that doesn't mean that she didn't get angry at you too.

Jess watched and came closer, trying to find words to say, but she didn't know what was happening and she didn't want to side with anyone.

You felt the urge to cry, but, not in hell, you were doing it in front of the whole school. You gathered your bag and ran out of that place, not looking back — even though Casey was screaming "I'm sorry", and Jessica was asking you to wait.

"Hey, wait up," a voice called, this time it didn't belong to a girl.

You froze at your spot, your feet slowly turning to face the boy following you in the empty hallway. Traitors, you wanted to say to your feet.

"Not now, Weasley," you said, trying hard to look away, but once his dark eyes met yours, you just couldn't bring yourself to walk away.

"Then, when? You need to talk," he pointed out, taking his hands out of his pockets, not yet breaking the eye contact. It was like he knew that he looking at you was the only thing keeping you there.

"You heard the show, huh."

"Just saw you, angrily walking away," he said while you nervously grabbed your bag's handle. "Thankfully, there was no butterbeer in your hands."

His attempt to joke went not as smoothly as he expected. You faced your shoes, biting your lip with the stupid idea that popped in your mind. You knew what you planned wasn't right.

But when he stepped towards you, it felt natural.

"Just shut up, Weasley," you said, before getting on your tiptoes and leaning in to kiss him.

He was surprised, again, but this time he was quick to respond and somehow smarter — he grabbed your waist and guided you to a door that only he knew existed in that hallway.

It was a broom closet, probably the brooms first-years use to train flying.

This time there was no inhibition. Fred's mouth in yours was not going to be enough to forget you fighting with Casey and your mom's words about your dad. You needed more. Thankfully, Fred Weasley was more than pleased to serve, fastly taking your white shirt off while you unbuttoned his pants.

"Are you sure of this, Duff?" he asked before pulling your black skirt up.

"I said shut up, Weasley," you reminded him, in a bossy tone. And in case he tried to open his mouth again, you locked it with yours.

 -

Things were worse than ever before.

After Casey's episode, you hadn't talked to her ever since. She tried, the first few days, but she saw you were ignoring her and with time, she gave up. Jess attempted to convince you to talk to Casey, and for that, you started ignoring Jess too.

Your grades weren't getting better any time soon — Professor Snape was now no longer the only one complaining to you about it. Thankfully, the other Professors were more understanding about it than Severus — the school knew about your father situation.

Oh, yeah. About your parents: since Casey attempt to read you a letter, you haven't touched one yet. And you weren't going to do it anytime soon.

The only person you were hanging out with — by Merlin, you never thought that would happen — was Fred Weasley.

It was easygoing with him because there wasn't much talking to do. He knew better than to ask you anything related to your personal life — even though he tried, a lot.

You two would meet primarily at the Room of Requirement — it usually provided a bed for you, so that was more comfortable than any broom closet. If he ever attempted to make conversation, you'd shut him up with your lips and locking your fingers in his hair — that was his soft spot for sure.

You noticed he was trying to be your friend, more than just a hookup because he was lately scheduling your meetings in places where more people were around — therefore you couldn't just kiss him.

Today, you two were meeting after his Quidditch practice. In his defence, you had indeed mentioned how hot after-trainings sex could be, and that was, probably, where he got the idea.

You were waiting for him in the ground leaned in the entrance to the stairs to the stands, laughing with yourself, because, not long ago, when he mentioned you waiting for him at the Quidditch field, you thought the idea was absurd.

"There he is," you said, placing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, walking side by side with a just showered Fred Weasley.

"You came."

"You said for me to come," you replied, tilting your head towards him and chuckling. It wasn't like you and any other places to be, but he didn't need to know.

"Hey, Fred, what are we..." started George, rushing to Fred's side and gasping at the notice of you. "Oh, hey, y/n."

So nice to have a Weasley calling you by your name instead of the stupid "duff" thing Fred seemed to love.

But that was George — the George Weasley — and all you managed to do was blush and nervously say hello back.

"Well, brother, got do something with y/n first, but, later, we can..."

"— don't bother with me! I'm sure we can hang out the three of us," you interrupted Fred, glad this time you didn't stutter.

Fred practically spat out a laugh, looking at you like you were crazy. "We? With my own twin?"

You pushed Fred by the shoulder, disgusted by the bullshit he had suggested.

"We can change our plans," you elaborated. "That's what I meant, Fred."

George's eyes went from you to Fred, not sure of what to say next. He didn't know what was going on between the two of you — you'd threatened Fred that you'd kill the whole Weasley family if he decided to say something.

"Are you sure? Fred and I can do the prank later."

"It's a prank? Then count me in!" you smiled, pushing Fred's shoulder again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

There was one exact reason why Fred didn't tell you — it's because you weren't interested, especially in personal stuff and principally in pranks.

"Wow, y/n, I reckon I've never seen you so excited," George commented, smiling.

The three of you started walking away from the Quidditch field while Fred mumbled something about him being the reason for your excitement — for that you replied with pinching his left arm.

-

You had never laughed so hard in your life. Fred, George and you were sitting on the floor of the empty library, leaning your backs against a dusty shelf in the dark corner of the room.

"Did you see his face?" George giggled, placing a hand over his chest where his heart was beating extra fast.

All of the hearts there were beating fast.

It was almost midnight, and by the school rules, you three should be in bed, but the amount of enthusiasm you were feeling was convincing you being a reckless student wasn't so bad.

You were sitting in the middle of the twins, your hands tossed on the floor — the left one just a couple of centimetres away from Fred's. He was watching you, paying very close attention at how the red slowly painted your face back, since it had been white because of all the running from Filch to not get caught.

"Thanks for tagging me along," you said, with a small smile, looking at George.

"Anytime," George said, thinking it was the right thing to do. "You're fun to be around. I see why you wanted to hang out with her, Freddie."

You would've teased Fred about the silly nickname if it wasn't gonna ruin the beautiful moment you and George were having.

Fred watched his twin and you, giggling with each other, talking about random funny stuff related to Argo Filch, but he couldn't hear the conversation quite well. He could only focus on how you were leaning towards George, and how, involuntarily, your hand ran away from his.

"Well, chaps, I've gotta keep going," George announced, getting up and shaking the dust out of his clothes. You pouted, saddened by the departure of your favourite twin.

Fred didn't even breathe, scared that would make his brother want to stay. It wasn't like he was addicted to you — Godric, no! — but he was really looking forward to spending some time with you. Just with you.

"So soon?" you replied, noticing that one prank and you now could speak perfectly well with George. You had no idea why it became uncomplicated, but spending time with him only made you notice what you already knew — he's very different from Fred. "See you later, then."

"See ya," George then turned around and walked out of the library, making sure he wasn't being heard.

As soon as George was away, Fred turned to you, using his hand to bring you face towards him. You allowed it, not really having much choice when he touched you like that.

"Why did want to prank with us?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

You shrugged, saying nothing. But something in your expression — maybe the quick thought of George — gave you away.

"George," Fred sighed, surprisingly angry, but not enough for you to notice. His hand fell from your face to his side. "You like him."

"Puff! What? No. What?"

Yeah, your reaction wasn't the best. But Fred shrugged, letting his jealous side hide and acting like a jerk because it was so much easier than caring.

"Are you only with me because I look like him?" he asked, making sure his tone sounded like he was playing with you instead of really curious.

"No!" you replied, faster than you expected. "First of all, I'm not with you. Secondly, no, Freddie," — you used the nickname to mess with him — "I didn't pick you because of George. I picked you because you were there."

Fred stayed in silence, absorbing your answer.

You were suddenly lost in your thoughts, remembering that first kiss not so long ago. And then you remembered all of those lonely nights at the Three Broomsticks, where your only companies were Rosmerta and... Fred.

"You are always there."

"Yeah," Fred sighed, not sure of what you meant with that. However, he was still in jerk mode, and for that, his hand flew back to touch you, this time choosing more sensitive regions, like your belly, particularly, above the waistband of your jeans, a place that Fred had already learned to be one of your weak spots. "So, is now when you're doing what we had scheduled to do?"

You turned to face him, making it easier for him to reach your abdomen.

"Do you only think about that?"

He pretended to be thoughtful.

"Yes."

 -

It came as a hell of a surprise when you were called to the Headmaster's office. You had been doing nothing — aside from escapades with Fred, and trying to get back to your studies, you haven't been doing much — so you didn't stall to see why they needed you.

You were even more surprised when the person awaiting fro you in the office was your mom.

"Hi, sweetie," she tried to smile but failed.

You didn't move since you opened the door and saw her, because her visit probably meant something you didn't want to be true.

"Is he dead?"

"What, sweetie? What did you say?" she asked.

"Dad. Is he...?" you whispered again, not brave enough to say it too loud.

"Oh, Merlin, no! That's why I'm here, actually. He called for you yesterday," she explained, stepping closer to you since you haven't been moving. "I sent you a letter, but you didn't reply, and I was so anxious..."

"Father called me? He said my name?" you were shocked because last time you saw him, he had no idea who you were.

"Yes, sweetie. I guess he remembers you," she smiled. "And me," she added.

"Can I see him?" you were fighting tears at this point.

"Of course, sweetie! That's why I'm here," she smiled, and opened her arms, knowing very well that all you wanted to do was bury your face on her chest, just like when you were little and scared. But this time, all you felt was happiness.

 -

Returning to Hogwarts was hard. Not because you were sad — Merlin, that had been your best weekend ever! You father was almost completely recovered, although now and then he was saying some gibberish.

It was hard to come back because you wished you'd stayed longer with your dad, but your mom knew you needed to finish your school year before anything else.

A conversation that you had with your father kept replaying in your mind since you walked in the school. It was before you left when he encouraged you to enjoy your life because he wished he had enjoyed his more — especially when he thought he was dying, having Death Eaters play with his mind.

So when you saw George in the hallway, you knew you had to do something about your whole starstruck situation.

"Hey!" you called him.

"Hi, y/n," he faced you, a smile appearing in his lips. "Haven't seen you all weekend."

"I had to be away. Dad's stuff," you really didn't want to tell him about it right there. "Anyway... I don't know how to say this, but I've been feeling incredibly confident lately, so here it goes... Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You had no idea how you manage to say it. Perhaps pranking someone together does change a person, but while you waited for his reply, George didn't seem so hard to talk to.

"You want to go out... with me?" he played with his hair while saying it.

"Yep," you gulped, suddenly regretting you recently discovered confidence.

"Okay," he frowned for a second before smiling lightly. "Three Broomsticks, Wednesday?"

"Perfect. See you there?"

He shook his head in response, then turned and walked away. You stayed there, expecting a wave of happiness to come, but it never did. That's odd, you thought, before heading to your dorm, which, weirdly enough, you had missed.

When you pushed the door open, you saw the two figures sitting on your bed, as if they had been waiting for you for a long time. Jess and Casey looked at you as you walked n, with sympathetic smiles on their faces.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked, but you weren't mad. Just curious.

You had missed them too.

"I'm here to apologize. Should've done it sooner, but you didn't allow me," said Casey, getting up and stepping closer to you. "I now know your father is better, but you were right, that letter could have something horrible written on it and had no right reading it."

You stared at her, unconsciously reaching for her hand, anxious to meet her hot touch again. You were still happy, of course, but that talk made you bit sentimental.

"I'm sorry, y/n," she said, allowing you to hug her and hugging you back in the way only she knew how. Jess jumped out of bed and embraced the two of you; although you couldn't see her face, you'd bet she was smiling and crying at the same time.

The three of you stayed like that for a while.

"But, thank Merlin, he's okay now," Casey continued, slowly pulling away from the group hug.

"How do you..."

"Fred told us," said Jess, sitting back on your bed and suggesting you two did the same.

"Fred? Fred Weasley? How did he know?" you were completely startled.

"He asked about you. The three of us were confused because, well, he was right, nobody had seen you," Jess explained. "Long story short, McGonagall told him about your dad, and he told us."

You gulped, taking in that new information. Fred worried about you, that was new. Well, you did leave with no warning, but for a not-a-friend with benefits, you never consider he would care if you disappeared.

"Did he say anything else?" you rounded, suddenly worried he could have told them about your little escapades.

"Should him? Your father is okay, right?" Casey entered a worried-mom mood, and Jess seemed to be concerned too.

"My father is getting better, yes," you replied, but now it was too late. They were curious, you sighed, knowing very well that, as your best friends, they had all the right to know what was going on. "I may — or may not — have started a no-strings-attached relationship with Fred Weasley."

"You did what??" Casey widened her eyes towards you.

You spend half an hour explaining to the girls what was going on in your sex life, and they were good listeners, never interrupting unless you paused. You missed those girly talks so much that you wondered how you managed to spend weeks not talking to them.

"Wait. But your date for Wednesday is George?" asked Jess, clearly confused with the end of your story.

"I never had the guts before," you said, remembering how only the idea of asking George out would've made you weak in the knees a year ago.

"But you like Fred," she stated, convinced she was correct.

"What? No. Why did you...? Merlin, no," you rambled. You thought you had made it clear that being around Fred longer than necessary made your stomach sick and everything.

Jess and Casey exchanged looks as if they knew something you didn't.

"Fred's repugnant. He still calls me Duff, can you believe it? I mean, 'hello, honey, if I'm such the disgusting, ugly friend, why do you sleep with me?' " you said, laughing with yourself, imagining you facing Fred and telling him that. But the girls kept with their suspicious stares. "I did explain what is Duff, right?"

"You did," said Casey.

"Still not convinced you don't like Fred, though," added Jess, raising a brow towards you.

"I don't! Besides, now, I don't need him. I'm going on a date with his brother, and my father is fine. I have no worries," you reminded them, getting up from your bed. "Well, maybe one problem. I still need better grades."

"That I can help," said Casey, allowing her nerdy Ravenclaw shine.

 -

You tried to corner Fred the whole Tuesday, but he seemed to be nowhere to be found, until after dinner, when you approached him when he was leaving. Thankfully, he was alone.

"So you are back," he said, looking you up and down in that way that only he knew. You looked around the hallway, scared that students leaving the Great Hall could hear you two talking, so you gesticulated for him to follow you to the broom closet — coincidently, where it all started was going to be its end too.

"Fred, we need to talk," you said, closing the door behind you and trying to find the light switch.

"You finally realized?" he sounded hopeful, with a playful smile on his lips.

"Realized what?"

He was set back with your response. Fred was thinking of something else when he asked you that, but he wasn't going to let you win. Although you really didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

"Realized you can't live without me."

"HA! Very funny, Weasley," you said, rolling your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, expecting you to do what you generally did in that closet, and, even though, his perfume made you lose your senses for a second (that didn't use to happen before, did it?).

"Well, I brought you here because... You see, we aren't doing this anymore," you swallowed after saying it — it was as if a knife was held in your neck.

He leaned in, looking down at you. His playful smile was long gone.

"You want to do it the right way. I get it," he said, pressing his lips together for a pause. "We could just jump to the fun part."

"Fun part? There isn't a...", but you weren't able to finish. His lips met yours mid-phrase, and as usual, you couldn't care about anything else but his lips.

What was the thing I need to tell him? Never mind now.

Your hands were playing with his hair, but something was different this time. There was still an urge — one that shouldn't be there, giving that you had no problems to forget right now — but you two were acting slowly, appreciating every touch.

When with Fred, you never felt ashamed of your body, but somehow this time you were very self-conscious, afraid that he wouldn't like you. Which was stupid — he had been... with you for too long to now started caring about your form.

What you didn't know what was that, if anything, he was finding you even more beautiful tonight, with the weak light of the closet highlighting every gorgeous curve of your body.

While you two undressed (with his lips away from yours), you were able to remember you shouldn't be there, snogging him and well, about to do other things with him. You had gone there to end this thing.

You sighed, too perplexed at the view of the ginger boy's body. The light was also highlighting his best spots.

A good-bye, you concluded with yourself. You were allowing yourself one last night, before staying away from Fred.

And if it was going to be a good-bye, you were sure you wanted to make it the best yet.

 -

When you asked George out, he had been puzzled, and really scared of what to do next.

You had never jumbled him with Fred before — and after spending so much time with his twin doing Merlin knows what he expected you to never do it.

He thought it was rather cute that you took the first step and asked Fred out. Well, you did confuse the twin, but George assumed you probably were too nervous with your own feelings.

So using his best "hey, brother, this is gonna sound funny" voice, he went to find Fred to tell him that he had a date with the girl he had pining over for the last month.

George had never seen Fred say no to other girls, neither had George seen Fred stay in the castle for a Friday night, then a skip a Hogsmeade trip. You had changed Fred, even though George was sure Fred had not noticed it yet.

"What is it, George?" Fred asked, anxious to leave and meet you, no matter where you could be. He had heard that you had just got back in the castle and he just... he wanted to make sure you were alright.

"y/n, she... well," George nervously giggled. "She mixed us. She thought I was you."

"Really?" Fred was not expecting at this stage for you to mix him with his brother.

"Yeah, and hm, this is funny," George gulped before continuing. "I think she asked you out. On a date."

"She what??"

"Yeah, I guess she was on a rush, because of her father, and she said something about feeling confident," George went on. "Anyway, I said yes because I knew you'd have said yes. It's Wednesday. At the Three Broomsticks."

Fred stared at his brother as if he had solved all the problems in the world.

"She really did that?"

George shook his head yes and pointed out: "Don't mention she mixed us. It will probably make her feel worse."

"Are you sure she thought you were me?" Fred asked, overthinking it.

"Well, of course. Why else would y/n ask me out?"

-

You had to borrow a foundation from Jess (your skin tones were not so similar, but it was enough) because on the last night, Fred had exaggerated a little.

He never left a mark on his body, but yesterday he had overcome himself. As the brush rubbed the foundation on your neck, you remembered the night before.

 "You are mine, Duff," he said, between one hickey and another. "Just mine."

 Unintentionally, you lost yourself in thought, your mind continuing its replay from the night before, as you brushed your sensitive skin.

 "Only I can make you feel this way; only my touch makes you shiver," whispered Fred, and incredibly, it was true. But he was Fred, and it couldn't go on.

So when it was over, and you both were too tired, you got dressed and stared at him, knowing what was coming next.

"Thank you, Fred, seriously. For everything," he watched you as you gulped nervously. "But this really can't go on. I have a date tomorrow."

"I know."

You were about to leave, but you immediately turned, facing him with wide eyes.

"You asked George out. I know," he seemed sad. And you have never seen Fred sad before. You wanted to do something, but what could you do really?

"Fred, I..."

"Look, you had your good-bye, y/n. You can get out now," Fred said. "Go hide. It's what you do, right?"

"Hey, don't turn this on me!"

"Somehow, this is my fault?" Fred asked while putting on his pants. Although angry, he didn't seem scary. "What you want me to do, y/n? I'm the jackass womanizer, aren't I? Go get the better twin."

"Fred Weasley!" you shouted his name, trying to shut him up. "We were never a couple; don't act as if you care now! Don't act like you're jealous!"

"Why? Because I can't be jealous of you? I can't care about you?" he shouted back.

"Care about me? You call me Duff, Weasley. All the damn time! How am I supposed to know you care about me if you keep reminding me how ugly, fat and disgusting I am?"

Silence fell upon the two of you.

That was the knife in your neck all along. The stupid nickname, it all came back to it. Fred had no idea how much power that nickname had over you.

"I never meant it that way, y/n," he said, gulping slowly.

"No?" you asked sarcastically. "Really? I remember you telling me I have hotter friends."

"But that was before!" he protested.

"Before what?" you asked, but his reply never came. The words he couldn't say died in his chest — buried forever. "See you around, Weasley, " you said, before opening the door and leaving, without looking back.

 You shook your head, slowly coming back to reality. The hickeys were enough hidden. It didn't look perfect, but the Three Broomsticks had terrible lighting, so it would be okay.

You wanted to stay in, curled up in bed, playing in repeat your good-bye, and blame yourself for that sadness in your chest, but you were too embarrassed to dump George.

The place was crowded — Hogwarts older students were practically all there, having the time of their lives on the dance floor. You wished George could never find you, so you went to the counter to hide behind a mug of butterbeer.

"Hey there, pretty," said Madam Rosmerta, who have missed you all those nights without you. "Butterbeer?"

"You know it," you said, about to throw her a coin when someone pressed a hand on your shoulder.

"Make it two," he said, and he didn't even need to speak to you know who it was. That cheap perfume was going to be the death of you. "It's on me," he told you, tossing his own coin to Rosmerta who disappeared to get the mugs.

"He's not coming," he added a second later, hating the silence around you two.

"I figured it. When I saw you," you explained, gulping.

Rosmerta brought two mugs back, and both of you took a sip from it, unsure of what to say next.

It wasn't like you two fought last night because you hated each other. In fact, it was probably the complete opposite, but both looked like stupid cowards, afraid of your own feelings.

"Look, I..." he started, but you interrupted him, placing your hand on his arm over the counter.

"Let me say this first," you said, locking your eyes on his. "I shouldn't have asked your twin out. Even if we were just friends; what I did was a jerk move."

"You liked him first," Fred pointed out, trying to defend you from yourself.

You chuckled. "Oh, Merlin, no. I thought he had a pretty face," you explained, tilting your head towards him, and he understood your joke right away, joining in the laughter. "And he seemed like a nice guy. Like, huh, I thought he could treat me nicely," you looked away from his big eyes, facing the shelves with liquor.

"But?"

"What?" you asked him, turning to face him once again.

"I feel like there was a 'but'."

You smiled.

"But you also have a pretty face, and recently, you've come to treat me nice too," you said, and he pressed his lips together while slowly shaking his head up and down. "Well, actually, if it's just between you and me, your face is prettier."

He raised his brows. "Is it?"

"And your body too," you added, just to make him smile.

"Is mine bigger?" he asked, back to his normal joker self.

You pushed him lightly by the shoulder, not hard enough for him to fall off the stool.

"Never saw his, sorry," you decided to tease, and you both giggled.

"I'm sorry. About the Duff thing and all," he said, swallowing. "I kept the nickname because I thought it was cute. If I knew it bothered you so much, I'd have stopped. And I wouldn't have used it during sex."

"I'm okay with it now, I guess," you said. "It wasn't that bad hearing it during sex if I'm honest."

You tilted your head to the left, biting your tongue to not laugh because it was not funny. But Fred just had a way to ease your mood.

You thought silence was going to hunt you two again when Fred spoke.

"Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?" he smirked, placing his hands on your knees, relaxing you even more.

"Maybe," you chuckled. "Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," he said, surprising you. "I have feelings for you."

"Well, I have feelings for you too, Freddie," you smiled, passing your fingers through his strong arms.

"You're not gonna forget that nickname, are you?" he faced away while asking.

"Nope."

"Fine by me, Duff," he replied, messing with you too. He then leaned closer, pressing his lips on yours, and it didn't take long for his hands to find your waist and bring you as closer to him as the stools allowed.

"But we are going slower this time, Weasley," you warned, parting your lips for just a second.

He smiled in the kiss.

"It's always better that way," he replied, probably remembering the soft, slow sex from last night because you were sure remembering that too.

You slapped his arm just strong enough for him to pout, but you kept kissing him anyway. When you two kissed, nothing else mattered— it was only the two of you in the world.

[alreadyblondenow]

Angeled | Lee Taeyong (TEASER)

Mafia!Taeyong x Nurse!Reader  

▸ TOO MUCH FLUFF, TOO MUCH SMUT, TOO MUCH ANGST ▸ Strangers to lovers, Mafia au ▸ A fic out of nowhere by B

Summary: A young mafia boss turned his back to his old life when he experienced the calmness that peace brings when you came and saved his life on that stormy night. You and Lee Taeyong fell in love deeply without you knowing that you're sharing a bed with a dangerous man who is hated by many people. Little did he know, you are hiding a secret from him too. One that will break his heart in the future. 

Warnings: Smut on smut on smut. The reader has heart disease so if you are uncomfortable with it, please click away. Mentions of: bruises, wounds, blood, guns, hospitals, drugs, alcohol, blood money, murders, and medications. Unprotected sex, nipple play, handjob, rough sex and intimate sex, oral sex female and male receiving, Somnophilia (with consent of course), heavy and mature themes. serious character death. SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!!!! A/N: Pure fiction. Now that I already finished my back to back smut fic for Jaehyun, it’s time for me to write a back to back smut fic for my number one man. So if you loved Sweet, you’ll love this too. Read Sweet here! Also idk if ‘Angeled’ is a word HAHAHA

“Tae, are you okay?” You heard loud thumps from the bathroom while Taeyong is having a shower.

“I am, but can you help me? I slipped” he groaned loudly. He doesn’t sound fine so you made your way towards the bathroom and slightly opened the door.

“Are you hurt?” you asked.

“A bit and, I’m naked too. But I badly need help if that's fine” you entered your bathroom and saw him in the tub with the shower on.

“Of course it's fine” you said as you enter and turned the shower off, making your clothes wet and your nipples visible through the fabric. He hurt his back but nothing seems to be serious, you checked his forehead and the cut on the side of his eyebrow is kind of deep, and it's bleeding badly so you cleaned it immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m not usually this weak” he admitted and let out a frustrated sigh.

“You got shot and stabbed two times, of course, you’re weak. And don’t worry, the cut on your eyebrow won't ruin your handsome face” you tried to cheer him up which is successful.

“You think I’m handsome?” he was teasing you but he’s blushing so much. You nod and helped him get up, trying not to look at his big cock, but too late. You already had a peek. “It’s alright to look, your nipples are exposed too and I’m sorry- I can’t stop myself from looking” You let out a nervous laugh before you leave him and let him finish his shower, you told him to be extra careful and you will wait for him outside the bathroom.

And while you’re preparing the stuff you need for Taeyong’s wounds, his warm hands startled you when you felt him touch you by the waist. You turned around and saw Taeyong with only a shower towel wrapped around his waist, looking so handsome and hot with his wet hair and great body. “Sit here,” you said and pat the edge of your bed.

First, you tended to his fresh bruise by his eyebrows, and you didn’t miss the way he looks at you. You pretend that you see nothing and continue doing your job but deep inside your heart is beating so fast that your hands are starting to shake. He let out a soft giggle when he saw your hand and caught your wrist, making you let go of the used cotton.

By this time, your heart is beating faster than earlier. But when he kissed your cold palm, in a matter of seconds a warm feeling scattered around your body and it brought you great calm. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me” he says and made your hand rest on his shoulder while he boldly proceeds to unbutton your soaked dress shirt. He was quiet for a few seconds and reached for your hand again only to kiss it and ask for your permission.

“Can I?” he was talking about removing your shorts and exposing more of yourself to him. You’re not stupid, you know exactly what will happen if you say yes. And quite frankly, you wanted it to happen as much as he does. So you nod calmly and watch him remove your thin shorts.

His hand moved immediately from below your knee, all the way to your waist, and give your ass a gentle squeeze. It was not too long before he finally continued and remove your panties, letting it fall on your ankles. And lastly, your dress shirt, which swiftly falls down from your arms and made you fully exposed to him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop and I’ll stop” he says when he pulls you closer to him without any warning and made you sit on his lap. His kisses on your body were tickling you, but there is a slight hint of roughness already because you feel his teeth brushing on your skin and his grip on your body becomes tighter. He pushed you on the mattress and grab hold of both of your legs, spreading them to his likeness and massaging your wet slit with his right hand. Lips locking finally, bodies to bodies, and slowly with all his strength he’s finally on top of you, comfortable in between your legs. Grinding his semi-hard cock on your wet slit while his hands roam freely around your body.

You exchange moans and catch each other’s breath with every kiss, stopping both of your worlds when he finally lined his cock on your hole and push in slowly, only to pull out and thrust a little bit harder this time. Taeyong did not hesitate to be rough and showed you how he usually fuck. "Tell me how it feels, hmm? Tell me” he commands with a hoarse voice as he rolls his hips deliciously, sharp, and deep, making you both moan so good.

“Good- ah!” He went a little bit faster while he pins both of your legs on the mattress and kisses your neck. “Fuck Taeyong what do you want me to say” you moan out, clawing his back but careful enough not to touch his bruises because you know his whole body still hurts right now. But he doesn’t care because this has been the best sex he had in a long time.

“Does this hurt?” He gave you a sharp piercing thrust that dragged your body near your headboard, his thrust was so rough that you needed to grab hold of your board instead of his body. It’s like he hasn’t had sex for years and now he’s pouring everything to you, and it hurts so good.

In no time, you started to clench and unclench around his cock. He was busy sucking your boobs and kneading them when he felt it and it made him crazy. “Pill?” he asked quickly, you can only nod and let go of your headboard and hug him again. You wanted to feel his body shiver and hear him moan closely while he cums, little did you know he wanted the same thing too. So he tightens his embrace and kissed you while he holds you by the waist tightly for he’s about to shoot his cum.

He groaned near your ear while giving you sharp thrusts and fucking you through your orgasm. Sucking and biting your right nipple as he shivers on top of you and continues to shoot his cum inside you while moaning, “Oh- ohhh” over and over again.

“Tae. I need uhm- I need you to get off, uhhh. I need water. I’ll be quick-“ you croak. Completely out of breath but you have to keep breathing.

“Y-yeah sure,” you pushed him to the mattress and off of you, quickly you made your way to the kitchen with heavy breaths. Reaching for your medication and drinking it in secret while waiting for its effect before you go back. That was close, you thought. He can’t know that you have heart disease.

With weak legs and a pale face, you went back to your bedroom, but Taeyong came out of nowhere and scoop you off the ground, and carried you bridal style back to your room. Which reminds you... he’s married.

He was all smiles and giggles with a soft cock as he puts you down the mattress and started kissing your body again. “I’m a terrible person” you said and turned your back from him, covering your face with your arm and trying your breathing exercises without him knowing.

“What? No- you’re literally an angel. Because of you, I’m still alive” he protests, making you face him and intertwine his fingers with yours. “What’s wrong?” he kisses your hands. Again. Something that makes your heart soft in an instant.

“You’re married. I found this in your pocket the night you... well, you literally fell into my arms” you reached for your drawer and showed him the thick and gold ring. Both of you stared at its beauty before you hand it to him.

“Well, I hate to break it to you but it’s not a wedding ring” he snorted and kissed your chest, trying to put you in the mood again. “Keep that ring, that’s important” he added and helped you put the ring back to the drawer.

Now that you're that he's not married and you're not fucking someone else's husband, you showered him with deep and lustful kisses. Tongue sucking and lip biting lustful kisses that made you both horny. “Okay, okay. I believe you, but I can’t go again” you said, slightly pushing him away with your hand on his chest. Thankfully he respects what you want and covers your body with your thick duvet.

“Can I at least keep you close?” He asks with a hopeful tone.

“You can,” you said with a smile that changed the mood and you invited him under the covers. His skin is cold, rough in some parts because of all the scars and bruises, but his whole being is beautiful. Oh you wanted to ask him why does he have a lot of scars, but you would rather not.  

“By the way, are you okay? Was I too rough and that’s the reason why you can’t go again?” He asks with a soft tone while his fingers dance around your skin and go wherever it pleases.

The thing is, you’re not a liar but you can’t tell him about your condition. Maybe someday, but for now, you believe that he will see you as a weak person if he knew the truth. And you don’t want that to happen. So you don’t have a choice but to lie. “Yes, you roughed me up. Why though? Were you stressed?”

“I’m sorry, it won't happen again- I got carried away,” he said sincerely.

“No, it's fine. I needed it too, and it felt good” you pulled him closer and cup his cheek, “you were great” you said shyly, avoiding his eyes because you just said he fucked you good. He let out a laugh and wrapped both of his arms around you, trying to hide his blush and his big smile.

What happened between you and Taeyong on this beautiful afternoon is a clear explanation that you like each other. And if love grows between you two, Taeyong will not hesitate to embrace this second life. Although he is not worthy of a peaceful and quiet life, he knew that well, but when it comes to you he can’t help but be selfish.

[intheticklecloset]

Wild Card (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: Bakugou is determined to make sure his 3am encounter with Shinsou is kept on the down low, but when he finds out Denki has already told some of their friends about it, he can't hold back his frustration.

A/N: I wanted to write a fic in which Bakugou tickled Denki, and it lined up perfectly with the events from "A Trick of the Light," so this is the result! Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,948

~~~

“Yo, Baku-bro,” Kaminari greeted enthusiastically as he and Shinsou entered the 1-A dorms together. “You up for some Mario Kart?”

Bakugou scoffed. “You up to losing?” Then he turned, saw the purple-haired boy with his friend, and froze. It had been a week since their 3am meeting in the kitchen, and neither of them had spoken since. He frowned. “What are you doing here, mind-reader?”

Shinsou’s eyes hardened but his face remained stoic. “I believe I’ve already informed you that I’m not a mind reader, and that I have friends here in these dorms.” He waved a hand at Kaminari. “Case in point.”

“I’ll go let Midoriya know we’re here,” Denki said, taking off down the hall after removing his shoes. “Be right back.”

Then Bakugou and Shinsou were alone together for the first time since the incident.

Bakugou glared. “How many people have you told?”

“Told what, exactly?” Shinsou asked coolly, staying right where he was. “That you mistook me for Midoriya? I told him and Kaminari about our encounter last weekend.”

“No one else?”

“I have no reason to tell anyone else about it.”

Bakugou grit his teeth, then let out a hissing sigh. “Look. I know we’re not friends, and that’s fine by me. I couldn’t care less. But I don’t want you going around telling a bunch of extras that I’m…” he trailed off, cleared his throat. “So what do I have to do to convince you to keep it quiet?”

Shinsou quirked a brow. “That you’re what?”

“You know what.”

“I already told you I’ve told Kaminari and Midoriya about what happened, but beyond them, I have no reason or desire to tell anyone else. I found it amusing, but little more. It clearly bothers you, though.”

“I’ve got a reputation.”

“For being a jerk all the time? I’m well aware of your reputation.”

Bakugou shot to his feet, striding toward the taller student with purpose. He stopped a few feet away. “I don’t want the whole school knowing I’m…I’m…that I’m ticklish, okay?” He finally spat, clenching his fists. “So what do I have to do?”

Shinsou blinked. “That’s what you’re worried about? That I’ll tell everyone you have a very common weakness?” He smirked. “Perhaps you’re not as much of a bad boy as they say you are.”

“Shut up, all right? Look, I just don’t need anyone else to know. It makes me sick enough as it is that you know. So what do I have to do? Name your price, mind-reader.”

“Stop calling me mind-reader, for one.” Shinsou’s voice grew hard.

“Fine. What else?”

The purple-haired boy considered him for a moment. “How about this – I’ll promise not to tell anyone your little secret if you promise to do me a favor in return whenever I ask for one. Whenever I want you to do something, you do it, no questions asked. Sound fair?”

Bakugou hated to admit that he was relieved. He nodded. “Fine.” He held out his hand, and Shinsou took it.

That’s the exact moment Denki returned with Deku in tow. The blonde’s eyes lit up. “Hey! Are you two friends now?”

“Shut up, dunce,” Bakugou spat, ripping his hand away. “We’re not friends.”

“Definitely not friends,” Shinsou agreed. The two of them shared a hard stare.

Deku could feel the tension between them and did his best to cut through it by asking brightly, “So, who wants to play Mario Kart?”

*

That was one problem taken care of. Keeping Shinsou quiet had been Bakugou’s biggest concern, since he wasn’t and had no desire to be on friendly terms with the extra from 1-C. That just left Deku and Kaminari. He knew Deku wouldn’t go around telling everyone about it; despite their rivalry, he could trust him to keep his secret. Kaminari, however, was a wild card he didn’t want to risk.

So that night after Shinsou had gone home, Bakugou dragged the electric hero outside into the dusk and said, “Listen up, dunce. I know he told you about what happened last week, but you are not to tell anyone else about it. Got it?”

For a moment Denki looked confused, but then he looked worried. “Wait…you mean mistaking Shinsou for Midoriya? But I’ve already—” He slapped a hand over his mouth.

Bakugou’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“No, no, it’s not what you think! I haven’t told everybody – just a couple of our friends!”

“Which ones?”

“J-Just from our group! You know – Kiri, Sero, and Mina. And…and Ojiro. But that’s it, I swear!”

Bakugou gripped his shirt collar. “I’m going to kill you.”

Denki panicked. “B-But they’re our friends! You know they won’t tell anyone!”

“No, I don’t know that.”

“Come on, man. Can’t you trust us with this by now?” Kaminari sounded sincere, and it gave Bakugou pause. “I mean…aside from that one time we went too far, we’ve never betrayed you, have we? We’ve always kept it just between us. No one else. They won’t tell, and I only told them in the first place because they already know.” The sparky blonde offered a nervous smile and patted Bakugou’s arm. “It’s all right, dude. We’ve got your back.”

Bakugou gripped him even tighter and snarled, “What about Ojiro?”

“O-Oh, that? W-Well, um, I only told him because he’s friends with Shinsou. He won’t tell either, I promise!”

“You can’t make promises on someone else’s behalf, idiot.” He shoved the electric hero away and turned on his heel. “Now I have go to shut someone else up.”

“Wait, no!” Denki cried, bolting to stand in front of him. “D-Don’t hurt him, Bakugou. He doesn’t know you like the rest of us. He might take it too personally – l-let me talk to him instead.”

“You better make sure he doesn’t tell anyone else I’m ticklish, dunce face, or I will actually kill you.”

Kami frowned, confused. “That you’re…? Oh, no, Ojiro doesn’t know Shinsou tickled you back. I just told him that you got confused and tickled Shinsou thinking it was Midoriya. That’s all.”

Bakugou grabbed him by the shirt collar again and yelled, “You made me freak out over nothing?!”

At this point, Denki just had to laugh. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous or he thought the whole situation was being blown out of proportion, but either way it was the wrong reaction, because he suddenly found himself shoved to the ground so hard he nearly had the wind knocked out of him. “Gah! Hey, take it easy, man!”

“You’re laughing at me now?” Bakugou growled, snatching up both of his wrists and pinning them tightly. “I’ll give you something to laugh about, dunce face.”

Denki shrieked. “NO!! No, wahahahahahahahahait! Plehehehehehease!”

“If you think it’s so funny, then go ahead and laugh.” Bakugou squeezed up and down his side, expertly keeping up when his fellow blonde tried to twist away. “Laugh it up, Denki – go on, get it all out of your system.”

“Stahahahahahahahahap!” Denki pleaded, giggling crazily and squirming on the ground. “Plehehehehease, I’m sohohohohohohorry, I didn’t mehehehehean to lahahahahahaugh!”

“Sure.”

“Plehehehehehease, I cahahahahan’t – dohohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me, plehehehease! I’ll tahahahahahalk to him! I’ll tehehehehehell him not to tehehehehell anyone else!”

“Oh, I know you will. But I’ve got some serious frustration to take out first, and since you so willingly walked right into this, I’m going to take my time.” Denki squealed when Bakugou forced him to roll onto his back and then straddled him, grabbing onto his ribs and kneading deeply. “Tickle, tickle, moron.”

“Plehehehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahaha!” The electric blonde giggled so hard he almost couldn’t breathe, gasping for air between bouts desperately, pushing at his attacker’s hands uselessly. “Nohohohohohohohoho! Plehehehehease, it tihihihihihihickles so much!”

“Jeez, sparky, you’re more ticklish than Deku is.”

“I knohohohohohohohow! Stahahahahahahahap! Plehehehehehease, Bahahahakugou!”

“Hmm.” Bakugou ignored his pleading, scribbling up and down his torso from his underarms to his hips, searching for a hot spot of some kind. While he got crazed giggling and breathy laughter, nothing really stood out to him as being a potential death spot. He squeezed the blonde’s thighs, earning a sharp squeal, then reached behind him to squeeze his knees.

“NO!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Denki’s begging came out in full-force, as did his fighting spirit. He shoved at Bakugou desperately, managing to dislodge him slightly. “No, not there! Not there! Please!”

Bakugou paused, staring at him. Denki stared back desperately. For a moment neither of them moved. Then the two of them started a wrestling match that lasted a couple of minutes before Bakugou finally managed to shove his electric friend face-first into the grass, quickly moving to straddle his calves and scratch at the exposed undersides of his knees.

Denki exploded. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” He pounded the ground, ripping up blades of grass in his fruitless attempts to get away. “NONONONO NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“Dang, you are more ticklish than Deku!” Bakugou laughed wickedly, scribbling over his knee pits and along the sides of his knees relentlessly. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“SHUT UP, BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKUGOU!! OH MY GOHOHOHOHOHOHOD STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP ALREADYEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

“What’s the matter? Can’t take it?” That’s when Bakugou noticed the sparks in the air around them. “Whoa.”

Kaminari was wheezing, he was laughing so hard. He grasped desperately for some kind of purchase. “I’M GOHOHOHOHOHOHONNA – I’M GONNA BLOHOHOHOHOHOHOW A FUHUHUHUSE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Bakugou smirked. He had to see this. “You think I care about that? Think again, dunce.” He switched from scribbling to kneading, just to see what would happen. “Go on. Electrify me if you want to get away. Do it. I dare you.”

Denki shrieked in distress, laughing so hard he was losing control of his quirk, but Bakugou wasn’t letting up, wasn’t letting him breathe, wasn’t letting him hold back—

“AAAAGH!!” Bakugou yelled as an incredibly strong shock of pain shot up his arms, forcing him to freeze up and fall over, letting Denki go whether he wanted to or not. He curled up as the pain receded, groaning. Wow. He wasn’t kidding about that blowing a fuse thing. That hurt!

The atomic blonde pushed himself up to his hands and knees, looking at where Denki still lay on the grass, and instantly felt a pang of guilt for having pushed him so far. Idiot, he chastised himself, crawling over to his friend. You got so upset when they pushed your boundaries and now you go and do the same thing?

“Hey, Denki,” he said, gently nudging his friend’s shoulder. “You all right?”

Giggling breathlessly into the grass, the only response he got was a muffled, “Whey.”

Oh, no. Bakugou rolled him over onto his back, seeing the dazed look and loopy smile on Kami’s face and groaning again. “Oh, great. Now you’re even dumber than usual.” He poked Denki’s belly, surprised when his fellow blonde burst into a long giggle fit from just the one touch. “Dude, did you get even more ticklish after that?” He poked him again, getting the same reaction.

“Whehehehehehehey,” Denki giggled, batting at his hand half-heartedly, rolling onto his side.

Bakugou stared, smirked, and grabbed his ribs, enjoying the squealing giggles he got for his efforts. “You’re ridiculous. Come on.” He pulled his friend into a sitting position, then helped him get to his feet, walking him back toward the dorms. “Let’s get you to bed, dunce face.”

*

When Kaminari woke the next morning, dazed and confused, he sat up in bed and was startled when something fell from his forehead to his pillow. He picked up the sticky note and read his angry friend’s scrawling handwriting: Tell Ojiro to shut his trap, or I’ll tickle you stupid again.

Denki grinned, shook his head, then got up to do exactly that.

[mamamittens]

Okay roast before bedtime!

The Minister of Flour himself!

Katakuri

Okay, so there's... A lot going on here. Almost too much really. But that's okay, we can take it one step at a time!

First step is vibe!

I feel like he needs more piercings. Not because I feel anything for that one way or the other but the lack of overt body modification really doesn't mesh well with this hardcore Hot Topic Goth All Grown Up and In A Biker Gang look he's got going on. I mean, sure he's got that tattoo but it's pretty tame all things considered.

Ironically he looks like he is both really secure in his masculinity but also weak AF about it. (A lot of OP men need therapy for toxic masculinity including Katakuri ISTG) Like, he's spent too much time investing in Cool Dude Vibes to be actually secure and straight like he's trying to look like. Not that he'd SAY any of that cause real men don't need to announce their dick size but his low rise jeans don't leave much room for anything to begin with.

He's just... Got too many spikes and studied belts for the complete lack of rockstar hair or piercings. Also idk why he's wearing spurs cause.... Actually... Has... Has anyone ever seen horses in OP??? Why does he have spurs??? It's like his whole outfit says "Rebel Biker Outside the Law" but his little pointy boots is just "Y'all 🤠" On a steel horse I ride, cause I'm wanted, wanted~ dead or a-live~

And then his weird scarf muffler thing says he gets aggressively cold like???? He could--stick with me now--but he could just wear a bandana over his mouth. Like, I GET why he hides it but seriously... This could not have been the only option? And it is so aggressively massive too like??? What is that??? A nesting scarf? Shit, a/b/o fics write themselves these days ig.

Now onto that tattoo... I don't... Hate it, but it IS kind of weird like, how far down do they go? In a non sexy way, honestly how far do they go??? I can't imagine they go down his whole ass leg and cup his ass and half his balls so what's the deal??? Whyyyyyyy are they the way that they are? And so asymmetrical, which also isn't a bad thing but it is weird. He's so anal about his appearance and just does that??? Wack.

Another question, how did he get them? I know he's got a thing about literally never being seen laying down so did he... Make the tattoo artist get a ladder? The arm is doable by sitting but the lines on his chest go too far down to do comfortably even if they straddled him--which should be way worse than folks seeing him lay down btw, why do OP men have such weird hills they'd die on??

And finally, what's the deal with the spikes? Man makes mochi and sees the future but somehow gains literally anything by adding random spikes to his ensemble? Can he even really kick people right??? He's super tall so itd be more like me kicking over a leaf with shit on it than anything else. Imagine him dropping a card and having to impale the ground because he's got spiky kneecaps. Why is there an infinity belt on his thigh above a Special Pink/White knee cap? What is he trying to contain here?!

He's just... A really weird dude that needs to chill out istfg.