#also two more followers and i have 3k... omg........

[star-mail]

BINGLIUSHEN 🔥

"i don't thinkest thoust two... should be Aparte. Instead, thou shouldst be... togethere. ... with me." - Rouxls Kaard

i know ive been absent,,, ive been moving apartments,,, and im about to be absent again. *slides this across the table*

[invincibledc]

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

𝟑𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

🃏

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄🃏

~

˚　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★synopsis: when a simple medieval jester shows up to Gotham, stirring the curious minds of certain boys of a bat colony. What could ever go on with this child’s life.

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★genre: oneshot special

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★note: thanks for 3K followers!!

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ word count: 1,296

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★info: Taking after the inspiration of joker and Harley Quinn, aesthetic wise. They loathe that man even after the inspiration. They always loved circuses, watching the old flying graysons clips their families use to record. Their age and genders are unknown despite their small frame which makes them confused a child. People think they work joker, forcing Batman to put them on his charts. They can never caught due to always being sneaky and playful. Someone who is some random person that helps crimes and wear a medieval jest costume that is either monochrome for night stealths but is bright and happy colors for random day shenanigans. The jester, who people can’t tell if they’re a girl, or a boy. They seem genderless, they also seem skinny as well with how the sleeves of their so called costume is loose, covering their hand.

The small child, their thin body covered by the baggy medieval jester clothing. They looked around the dark city with wide and curious eyes. Walking around, the small child couldn’t help but look through alleys, ignoring the strange looks of the people in boxes and the folks giving them dirty looks.

The jester moves past a fallen man, maybe the man was just tired. The clown child looks around to see a small cardboard box. Going towards it, the child places it over the man. Walking off with more confidence in their step. “Hey kid!” a man bellowed, catching the small child’s attention, they've been picked up like a scrawny cat.

“Who do you think you are walking around this alley in that tacky colors of yours.” the man gruffed, shaking the mute child who just stared at the man with wide undisturbed eyes.

Not getting an answer, the man got angry, throwing the child. Usually, a person would expect the child to just fall harshly, but this wasn't a normal kid. The jester had landed on their feet gracefully as if defying gravity.

The child dusted themself off, keeping eyes on the big angry man. The jester moves back from the big man who pulled out a butterfly knife, not wasting time, the jester then moves forward.

The jingles of the bells on their hat and shoes jangled loudly. The small clown child jumped into the air, midway they did a triple spin kick. The man was hit on his face and the back of his head, knocking him out.

The child could only hum, taking the butterfly knife from the man and politely placing it onto the man’s chest before bouncing from the brick walls of the tight space.

The small child flipped themselves onto a fire escape before climbing onto another brick wall of a complex apartment. Climbing their way to the roof, they met Red Hood who just stared at them with two batburgers.

The juicy smell of the burger made the thin child’s stomach growl.

“You’re starving aren't you kid? I ain't here to harm you, only to get to know you.” those seem to be working as the small child with a painted face, a painted mask to hide their past forward towards the red hooded male.

But as if sensing something, the child did a spinning roundhouse kick towards a male with a fringe. “Wow! Fast reflexes!” Red Robin tries to capture the child who only stares at him and then looks back at Red Hood who sighs, knowing how this may go. The child stays still, that was before the child ran off the roof. The two male’s eyes widen.

“Kid no!” “Omg!?”

The two red vigilantes look over the roof to see nobody, no child, no jester. Completely gone.

“Dang… guess we have to try another night,” Tim says to Jason who nodded. As much as he wanted to, his older brother's instincts were taking over.

Their small frame irks him.

☆

Huddled in a cardboard box, the small child smelled of sweet cotton candy, reminiscent of treats from a bustling circus. But at this moment, they were just a lonely figure, aching for warmth and belonging. Denied entry anywhere, the child was mistaken for a goon of the Joker—certainly a mislabeling, but one that weighed heavy on their small shoulders.

Clenching their tiny fist, determination ignited within them. Despite their appearance, they felt an unwavering drive to help others. Emerging from the confines of the box, a small smile crept onto their painted lips, signaling the start of a journey to reclaim a piece of Gotham City.

Their first mission? Defend the local bakery. With a fierce resolve, they startled the shop owner, earning themselves some fresh bread and a handful of delectable cupcakes. The baker, initially stern, soon softened, watching the child devour the treats with wide eyes. As crumbs coated the child’s face like powdered sugar, the baker’s heart ached with a mix of pity and tenderness.

"Sweetie, slow down before you choke, okay?" she urged, her voice tinged with concern. The child nodded, ignoring the messy mouthful of crumbled icing. But when the baker reached out, accidentally swiping away some of the child’s carefully applied makeup, panic surged through the tiny form. Memories of shattered dishes flashed in their mind, and a soft whimper escaped their lips as fear took hold.

“Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?!” The baker knelt, startled by the child's distress. Without knowing what else to do, she rushed to the back, returning with a puff of white powder, gently reapplying it to the child’s face. “There!” she declared, relief washing over her as the child slowly regained composure.

After the brief episode, the baker escorted the little jester out of the shop, handing over a bag filled with bagels and a few sweets—a meager feast, but a feast nonetheless. The child bowed deeply, their gratitude palpable, before scampering off with the jingling bells of their hat and shoes echoing behind them.

As they munched on the chewy bagels, savoring their hard-earned treasure, the joy was short-lived. Suddenly, strong hands gripped the child from behind, hoisting them up into the air. A man dressed in a striking blue-black uniform, with neat hair and charming dimples, faced them.

“Sorry, little guy, I’ll buy you food,” he said, a playful smirk on his face as he swung away with a grappling hook toward the rooftops. “But first, you’ve got to answer a few questions.”

The child stood frozen, wide-eyed, staring up at Nightwing. Suddenly, a thick cloud of gas—sweet as cotton candy—erupted from their suit. Nightwing instinctively covered his nose, shocked, yet he tightened his grip on the thin child. But in a split second, the little figure slipped through his fingers like a ghost.

With an agile burst of movement, the child took off, already anticipating their escape route. Nightwing recognized the sugary scent of the gas instantly, letting go of his nose. He dashed after the child, who skidded across the rooftop. As Nightwing closed in, they turned, flashing a daring look before launching themselves into the air, landing gracefully on him. It was as if he were nothing more than a springboard for their acrobatics. But as he turned to catch them, the child vanished like smoke.

Frustrated, Nightwing pressed the comms hidden in his ear. “They’ve disappeared. Robin, you’re up.”

Meanwhile, Robin was perched nearby, eyes sharp and ready. He smirked as he spotted the child darting his way. The moment was electric. Robin charged forward, but the quick-witted jester used the boy as a launchpad, vaulting over him with effortless grace while tugging him down in a whimsical twist. As the jester sped off, the child playfully slapped Robin’s cape, leaving him exasperated. “Ugh!” he exclaimed, determination igniting as he sprinted after them, refusing to give up.

But the chase took a tense turn when the jester led the way into a dead end. “Nowhere to run! We know you work for the Joker!” Robin shouted, planting his feet firmly. The child turned, their expression still as blank as before, and exhaled slowly, as if time itself had slowed.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wall erupted between them. Robin reflexively hurled a Batarang, but the jester countered with a Joker card, flinging it at the boy. The card began to beep ominously, its sound a countdown. Robin’s heart sank as he realized the jester was escaping through a vent, glitter exploding in the air around the child, painting the scene with chaos and wonder.

Once again, the elusive jester slipped through their fingers, leaving Bruce grappling with questions. How could such playful devices aid them? The clock was ticking. They had to catch them before it was too late.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

omg girl pretty please was perfect, need a part two with more spice

here it is, with a lot more spice, so be warned! 🔞

pretty please | pablo gavi [part 2]

🧁 synopsis: Pablo and you decide to turn your friendly casual hook-ups into a "no-strings-attached" arrangement – it sounds like the perfect plan: easy, fun, and uncomplicated. If only he weren’t so annoyingly impossible. tags: friends with benefits, banter, dirty talking, smut. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 3k words)

you can read the first part here

Your friends are spilling out of cars, shouting directions, arguing about who almost missed the turn, and debating who owes who gas money. You climb out of the backseat of your friend’s car, smoothing down your dress as you walk toward the restaurant.

Pablo is leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed like he’s trying to blend in. But the second you step out, his eyes lock on you, and he starts making a beeline straight for you.

“Hey, what’s with the dress?” he asks, his voice sharp enough to cut through the parking lot noise.

You blink at him, playing dumb. “What about it?”

He stops just short of crowding you, his eyes dragging over the vintage Versace. His expression gives away nothing, but you can tell he’s trying not to combust. He knows exactly what you’re doing, but you also try to keep your expression neutral, as if you’re completely oblivious to how short, how tight, and how ridiculous this dress is.

You borrowed it from your mom without asking. She would absolutely kill you if she knew, but as long as there aren’t any pictures, you figure you’re safe.

“You know exactly what about it.”

“No, I don’t.” You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “You have something against fashion, Pablito?”

His jaw tightens, and you swear he mutters something under his breath. You’re having too much fun to care.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, twirling the hem of the dress between your fingers. “You don’t think it’s cute?”

“Cute?” He scoffs, looking around to make sure none of your friends are within earshot. “It’s... distracting.”

None of your friends know what the two of you do behind closed doors. To everyone else, you’re just two close friends, which makes it even funnier when they try to set you up.

It’s become a running joke between you and Gavi, the two of you playing along just enough to make them think they’re onto something.

You can’t help but grin. “Distracting for who?”

“For me,” he hisses, glaring at you like it’s your fault.

“Oh, well, I didn’t realize I had to run my wardrobe choices by you.” You shrug, pretending to think. “Maybe next time I’ll wear something really distracting.”

“Don’t even –”

“Come on, Pablito,” you cut him off, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the entrance. “People are waiting, and you’re being weird. Let’s go.”

His steps falter, but he follows, muttering as he lets you pull him along. “I’m not being weird.”

“Relax,” you say, turning to flash him a grin. “If it’s really bothering you, maybe you should sit on the other side of the table.”

He stops walking, staring at you like you’ve just personally challenged him to a duel. “Not a chance.”

“Suit yourself,” you sing, swinging open the restaurant door. Behind you, you hear him mutter something unintelligible – probably about how impossible you are – but he’s already following you in, like he always does.

part 2

Your group takes up the long table near the back and dinner starts out fine. Pablo, for reasons only he knows, has stationed himself at the far end of the table, so far away from you it feels intentional.

You figure it probably is.

It’s almost impressive, the way he’s managed to talk and gesture like everything’s normal, all while sneaking glances at you every few seconds. You know because you’ve been doing the exact same thing – watching him out of the corner of your eye as he fidgets with his glass, rubs the back of his neck, and very clearly struggles to keep his attention on the conversation in front of him.

You’re not trying to make things harder for him. Well... not exactly. Teasing him is fun, and you didn’t realize that was part of the deal when you started this whole “friends with benefits” arrangement. Apparently, it is, and it’s working better than you could’ve imagined.

The dress helps, of course.

By the time your friends start debating dessert orders, you notice Pablo’s grip on his fork is a little too tight. His jaw keeps ticking, and his eyes haven’t left you in what feels like minutes.

Then, out of nowhere, he blurts, “Oh, we need to go.”

The entire table falls silent, everyone looking at him in confusion.

“What?” one of your friends asks.

Pablo’s eyes are glued to you, panic flickering in them like he didn’t think this through. “We have that... thing,” he says, gulping hard. “With your brother.”

You nearly choke on your drink. His eyebrows are doing that wild thing they do when he’s embarrassed, and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing on the spot.

“Right,” you say smoothly, nodding. “Thanks for reminding me, Pablito.” You grab your bag, standing up with practiced calm. “Sorry, guys, we’re leaving. Can’t be late.”

Your friends barely react. You and Pablo leaving early isn’t exactly unusual – you’ve been practically glued at the hip since you met.

You pay your share of the check, wave goodbye, and make it all the way to his car before the composure you’ve been holding onto snaps.

As soon as the doors shut, you burst out laughing.

“With my brother?” you wheeze, clutching your stomach. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Pablo glares at you, his ears turning pink. “Don’t.” His voice is low, trying for roughness, but it only makes you laugh harder.

“Oh my God, you looked like you were going to pass out.”

“I said don’t.” He leans back in his seat, covering his face with his hands, but you can see the faintest hint of a grin breaking through. “I can’t believe you did that.” 

You blink at him, “Did what?”

He scoffs before turning to glare at you. “You spent the entire dinner giving me that look.”

“What look?” you ask, trying not to grin.

His jaw tightens, and for a second, he looks like he regrets saying anything. But then he mutters, “The look you have when you want to... you know.”

You burst out laughing, loud and uncontrollable as his ears turn pink.

“You’re insane!” you manage between laughs. “That’s totally a projection. You were the one who kept looking over at me.”

“Whatever,” he snaps, looking back at the road as he starts the car. “I’m taking you to mine.”

You’re still grinning, leaning your head back against the seat. “And what are we doing at your place, Pablo?”

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, and the smirk creeping onto his face says it all. “I don’t know,” he says casually, his tone a perfect imitation of innocence. “Play video games, maybe. That’s what we do, right?”

“Right,” you say, biting your lip to hold back another laugh. 

He’s not saying what he really wants, but he doesn’t have to. And the way his hand taps restlessly on the steering wheel tells you he’s not going to hold out much longer.

part 3

His bedroom door clicks shut behind you, and before you can even process what’s happening, Pablo is dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” you blurt out, genuinely taken aback.

He doesn’t answer right away, his hands already gliding down the sides of your thighs. His head tilts up briefly and you can see the faint flush creeping over his face. It’s not shame, it’s desire.

You’re tempted to say something snarky, to keep up the teasing game you started at dinner, but the way he looks at you – half-lidded, feverish – makes the words catch in your throat.

When his lips press against the curve of your leg, just above your knee, you feel your breath hitch. He trails soft kisses down, his touch so careful it sends shivers up your spine. 

“Pablo,” you say again, but this time it comes out quieter.

Still, he doesn’t respond, his hands sliding down to your ankles. When he finally reaches your feet, he pauses, looking up at you as if asking for permission – or maybe just enjoying the way you’re completely at his mercy.

“You’re so dramatic,” you mutter, trying to sound unaffected.

He smirks, the flush deepening on his cheeks as he carefully slides one of your heels off, then the other. “And you’re a brat,” he says, like it’s a compliment.

You’d almost feel bad for teasing him earlier. Almost.

But the way he’s looking at you now? Yeah, you don’t feel sorry at all.

Gavi stands up and you raise an eyebrow at him when he takes you completely by surprise. Before you can react, he hooks an arm around your waist and manhandles you up like you weigh nothing.

“Pablo!” you yelp, your legs kicking lightly in protest as he hauls you toward the bed.

“What?” he says, laughing as he effortlessly shifts you in his arms. 

“Put me down!” you demand, though the smile on your face betrays your annoyance.

“Okay,” he says, plopping you unceremoniously onto the mattress. You bounce once and he doesn’t follow immediately. Instead, he steps back, his dark eyes scanning over you. His head tilts slightly, his brow furrowing.

“You’re… hot,” he says finally.

You blink up at him, “You’re only noticing now?”

He moves closer, his hands skimming over the fabric of your dress. His fingers linger at the hem, then drift to the exposed skin of your thighs, your shoulders, the back of your neck – everywhere the dress doesn’t cover.

“No, I’m serious,” he says, his voice lower now, his focus entirely on you.

Before you can respond, his hands slide up to cup your face, holding you firmly, like he needs you to hear him. His thumbs brush against your cheekbones.

“You look really fucking hot right now,” he says, and there’s nothing teasing about the way he says it. 

You open your mouth to reply, but the words won’t come. You’re too distracted by the way he’s looking at you. So you don’t even think about it – you just grab his shirt and pull him down, kissing him hard. The kind of kiss that friends definitely shouldn’t be sharing. It’s reckless, fueled by everything he’s made you feel tonight, by all the times he’s told you not to overthink this, not to complicate things.

But this? This is the definition of complicated, and you don’t care.

At first, he freezes, like the force of your kiss has stunned him. Then his hands tighten on your face, and he kisses you back even harder.

His lips move against yours with a kind of desperation that makes your head spin, and his fingers slide into your hair, anchoring you to him. 

When he finally breaks the kiss, his hands are still cradling your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks like he can’t quite let go. His gaze drops, taking in every inch of you, and when he looks back up, there’s a determined gleam in his eyes.

“I’m not even taking the dress off,” he says, his voice low and sure as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

You giggle, shaking your head at him. “We can’t! My mom would kill me if I screwed up this dress.”

But Gavi just shakes his head, completely unfazed. “I’ll buy her another one.”

His shirt is off now, tossed somewhere behind him, and you’re caught between laughing at his confidence and being completely swept up in it.

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hands find your waist again, pulling you closer as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin.

You shake your head again, but this time it’s less about disbelief and more about the fact that you’re already giving in. 

He slides your lacy underwear off with deliberate care, and when he notices they match the color of your dress, he pauses for a beat, his eyes lingering. The corner of his mouth twitches before he does something you don’t expect – he places them right next to your face, on the pillow you’re lying on, his grip on them firm.

You laugh, the sound bubbling out. “You’re so weird.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, but he doesn’t let it slide. “Stop calling me weird,” he mutters, biting your ear in retaliation before trailing down to your neck.

You shiver under his attention, but then he pulls back to focus on his next task – taking off his pants with a kind of urgency that’s kind of endearing. When he’s finally stripped nude, he stands in front of you, hands on his hips like he’s waiting for a round of applause.

“Tell me I’m hot,” he demands.

You shake your head, biting back another laugh. “What? No way.”

“Why not?” he asks, feigning offense as he moves closer. “Come on, say it.”

He leans in, peppering kisses across your cheek and jaw, his persistence both ridiculous and charming.

“You think your annoying best friend is hot, don’t you?” he whispers into your ear, his tone dropping just enough to make your pulse race. “And you want to sleep with me, don’t you?”

“Stop projecting your feelings onto me,” you argue, but your voice is breathy, already undone by his proximity. Your words would be more effective if you weren’t already moaning under his touch, two of his fingers going in and out inside of you, the softest sounds escaping you as his lips find yours again.

The room is filled with your unsteady breaths and the sounds you can’t quite keep contained, each one louder than the last. But then, out of nowhere, Gavi stills completely, his movements halting. He grabs your chin, tilting your face toward his. His expression is serious, annoyingly composed.

“I’m not letting you finish until you tell me I’m hot,” he says, like this is a perfectly reasonable demand to make at a time like this.

You glare at him, every nerve in your body screaming at the unfairness of it all. But it’s too late for you – you’ve already given up.

“You’re hot, okay?” you snap, your voice desperate and unfiltered. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever been with, so please, please just fuck me.”

For a second, he looks almost touched. And then, to your complete horror, he has the audacity to laugh.

“Jesus! Calm down, I’ll do it,” he says, his grin breaking through his mock seriousness.

You see red, slapping his hand away from your chin in pure frustration. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but before you can say more, he’s fingering you again, his hands steady and assured, and everything else fades away.

His hands and lips and teeth start exploring every inch of you with a passion that feels almost primal. He’s relentless, his mouth all over your skin, lingering on the parts of you he knows will make your breath hitch. The delicate fabric of your dress shifts under his hands, pushed and pulled as he reveals more of you, your breasts, your cunt, as he eats you out with a feral hunger.

You cum twice, his name falling from your lips. By the time he finally lifts his head from between your legs, his smile is smug, proud.

“I’ll give you what you asked for now,” he says, “What you begged me for.”

“Shut up,” you snap, your voice unsteady.

He laughs, brushing a strand of damp hair from your face. “You’re so mean to me,” he murmurs, shifting you gently to your side. His voice softens further as he positions himself behind you. “I always give you what you want, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes, your tone sharp even as your breath hitches. “Hurry up with the condom.”

“Do you want to put it on?”

“Yes…” you mutter, your fingers brushing against his as you take it from him.

When he finally enters you, it’s consciously slow, his lips pressing softly to your shoulder, shushing you as your breathing grows uneven again. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice soothing as his pace quickens, the rhythm you find together is absolutely perfect.

As you sense him nearing his peak, you lean back slightly, your voice quiet but sure. “Cum in my mouth.”

Pablo groans loudly, a mix of gritted words spilling out. “Fuck, fuck.” He pulls away quickly, his breathing ragged. “That’s what you wanted all night, wasn’t it?” He’s breathless, his words edged with laughter. “You wanted to taste, wanted to – fuck, to eat my cum, fuck – nasty girl.”

He’s hasty and shaky now, completely lost in pleasure as his member fits perfectly in your mouth. He closes his eyes, moaning loudly as he finishes. In his hurry, he becomes careless, and a few drops land on your face, his eyes widen. Then, without missing a beat, he leans in to clean it off, his tongue brushing over your skin with an exaggerated gentleness that makes you giggle.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, but he shushes you, his focus entirely on his task.

“Fixing my mess,” he mutters, his lips trailing up to yours. He kisses you fiercely, sucking your tongue. It’s messy and uncoordinated, full of laughter and half-mumbled complaints.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes rake over you, and he groans dramatically. “Mierda, I’m hard again.”

You laugh, pushing at his chest. “You’re too horny!”

“Me?” he scoffs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you down effortlessly. “You came three times, and I didn’t hear you complaining then.”

You roll your eyes, already teasing him with your touch, one hand on his erect member, caressing him. “I’m tired now,” you say, your voice playful even as you keep up your antics.

“Tired?” he repeats, “No, no way. Give me another one.”

You stretch out lazily on the bed, making yourself comfortable. “Fine,” you say with a grin. “But I’m not doing any work this time. You’re on top.”

Gavi groans again, rolling his eyes. But the smile on his face says he’s more than ready to oblige.

[charles-simmons-fanfiction]

A cup of hot coffee - Paul Bäumer / Female Reader

Description: Paul was caught stealing from the farm, again. Fortunately, the daughter of the farmer sympathized with him. [fluff, slight angst, oneshot, 3k words]

Omg, this is literally so self indulgent. Just saying but I only watched the 2022 movie, so I'm sorry if this isn't accurate to the book or to the other movie. Might also not be the most historically accurate thing either, bc I think the famers probably wouldn't speak his language, but hey, this is a tumblr fic.

Hope you enjoy it and pls let me know if you do, it always means a lot! <3

Part I

Paul was almost reaching another egg when he heard the door opening. He turned around instantly. Before he even saw a person, he saw the rifle.

No words came out of his mouth as his eyes widened and he raised his hands to the air, dropping the egg. It broke on the floor. He gulped.

"Don't do any movement, or I will shoot" It was too dark to see who was talking, but the voice was of a woman. On one hand, that probably made it easier to escape. On the other hand, Paul hadn't seen a woman in months and was caught off guard.

"Do you have any weapons with you?" Her tone was firm and she had the rifle pointed at him. He shook his head no. "I don't believe you"

Paul sensed he had no choice. "I have a knife."

"Throw it on the ground, away from you"

He did as she said and looked at her again. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he started to see who was at the door. She was no older than nineteen.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Paul Bäumer" He kept his voice steady, but low. "I apologize, ma'am. I am very hungry"

"Bäumer, you'll get to live another day" She didn't lower the gun, just stepped away from the door. He hesitated, only walking towards it when he was sure she wouldn't shoot. She stopped him just before he could leave, "You're very lucky you didn't wake up my dad. Don't come back again if you care about your life," and stepped back again.

He nodded in silence and left. As soon as he was outside, he sprinted away, with just one egg on his pocket and a rumbling stomach.

---

That was at least three weeks ago and the soldier had, in fact, not come back. Or at least you didn't notice if he did.

Your dad was in the nearest city, and probably would only be back by tomorrow. There were more chores to do than usual, but you didn't mind. Your day had already been quite productive, so you calmly folded the laundry while you waited for the water to boil for coffee.

Then the dog started barking and you heard a loud thud. You quickly grabbed the rifle and ran outside. The barn's door was slightly open.

"Who's there?" You asked, raising your voice as you entered the barn.

You found a soldier, getting up from the floor, his uniform stained in blood.

"Don't shoot!" He was quick to ask, raising his hands. For a moment you were confused, until you finally recognized him as the same soldier from before. He looked like he had been to hell and back, and he probably did.

His eyes found yours and you were left speechless. His whole face was covered in dust, mud and dry blood.

"Are you alright??" The soldier stared at you in confusion, not quite sure what to answer to that. Giving it a second thought, it was actually a pretty stupid question, so you didn't expect an answer. "You're Bäumer or something, right? I had told you not to come back."

"I deeply apologize, ma'am" His voice was shaky, although he managed to keep a collected posture. You should probably just shoot him, that was the smartest and safest thing to do at the moment. Still, you couldn't get yourself to pull the trigger. You sighed.

If you weren't going to shoot him, you should at least just tell him to leave, but if he had come back once, he'd do it again. There was a moment of tense silence between the two.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"What?"

You lowered the rifle and gestured for him to follow you. Every part of you was telling you that was a terrible idea. Letting a man, more specifically a soldier, into your house while you were alone was, at the very least, completely reckless. But there was also another part of you that felt terribly bad for the guy.

He didn't move for a few instants. "C'mon," you rushed him and he started walking, glancing at the weapon in your hand, which you made sure to keep close to you even after you entered the kitchen, holding the door open for him.

You simply gestured at a chair for him to sit down and started to make coffee for both of you. The two remained in silence, and you would make sure to keep him in your sight. It was hard not to notice how much he was shaking. At first you wondered if it was out of fear or something, then you came to the conclusion he was just freezing. Now, giving it more attention, his lips seemed to be already slightly purple.

"Do they not give you food over there in the trenches?" You broke the ice.

"They do, but rarely enough for everyone"

You nodded. "Tell me, how old even are you, Private Bäumer? You're a Private, right?"

"Yes, I am," he quickly said. "And I'm seventeen."

"Pretty much my age," you thought, but didn’t say out loud. You took his cup of coffee and handed it him.

At first he didn't drink it. He held the cup with his two hands, feeling the heat of it. Then slowly took a sip. You could swear his eyes were teary.

"Thank you, ma'am." His voice was sheepish, shaky almost.

"You're welcome. I'll get us some bread too" You looked for it as you spoke, then shared some with him.

The soldier was fast to eat it. He didn't seem to be lying about not having enough food. You took your time as you drank your coffee, trying not to feel pity towards him.

He looked out the window, and sighed.

"I should go back now, before it starts to get dark," Bäumer downs the rest of the coffee. "Thank you, again. I owe you a lot for this"

"If you want to thank me, then don't come back"

He nodded. "You won't be seeing me again"

There was both a huge sense of relief in hearing that and a slight disappointment. It was easier if he actually didn't come back though.

Private Bäumer got up and stared at you for a few instants. "Have a good day, ma'am."

"You too." The words were merely something polite to speak and you knew it, although you wish he could actually have a good day. He didn't look like he had had any it's been long time.

You opened the door for him and gave him a small smile. He smiled back, the tears now not so visible on his face, and you thought that maybe you wouldn't regret any of this at all.

"Before I leave, what's your name? Since you know mine"

You silently considered on whether you should answer it or not, then spoke. "My name's y/n"

Part II

The next time Paul saw you, he didn’t plan on trying to steal from you or anything. He wasn't even sure what he was doing. All he knew is that he couldn't sleep even if he wanted to, and for some reason he wanted to see you again.

As much as he loved his friends, he missed talking to someone outside of all the war. He missed feeling like just another guy instead of a soldier. And he missed talking to girls too.

So he was walking towards the farm, knowing that it was a terrible idea.

"She didn't shoot me the last two times," he thought. "Maybe third time will be the one."

On the way there, he almost stepped on a beautiful white flower. Barely noticeable in the snow. Paul stopped and knelled next to it, then carefully picked it. "I could give it to her as a way of saying 'thank you for the coffee'," he considered, "or at least as a 'sorry, I'm here again.'"

"I'm definitely getting shot" was his final conclusion as he kept walking anyway.

Then he saw you, and Christ, he needed to pull his shit together. He instantly felt anxious. It was embarrassing, really. "It's just a girl existing, chill."

Paul took a deep breath, looked around, and walked up to you.

"Good afternoon"

You screamed and turned around, pointing the shovel in your hands towards him. When you saw it was him again, you almost yelled, but was interrupted by the voice of an old man coming from inside the house.

"You okay??"

"Yes, dad. The dog sneaked up on me!" You yelled back with the best excuse you could think of.

"Sorry, I didn't think this through" Paul tries to apologize, but is cut off by you pushing him to the barn.

You close the door behind both of you and when you looked at him again you could swear you had never hated a soldier this much. "What are you doing here?? I was nice for not shooting you dead and you can't keep a promise to simply not come back?!"

Paul opened his mouth to defend himself, and closed it again. He probably looked like a kid being yelled at and he couldn't help but cringe at himself.

"You'll stay here until my dad goes to sleep, because if he sees you, he will kill you and I'll let him," You warned harshly. "Actually, no, I highly encourage you to leave, it'd make us both a favor if that happened."

The door is slammed after you leave and Paul takes a few instants to think about what happened, his heart still beating way too fast. He looked around and sat down on the ground, feeling hungry but not daring to steal anything. The flower had probably fallen somewhere.

---

You watched in silence the soldier who had fallen asleep in your barn, taking courage to actually wake him up.

Bäumer actually looked only slightly better than last time and he smelled terrible. One could easily find him like this and assume he's dead. You sighed and sat next to him, with your head on your knees, wondering what you were even doing.

Were you really this lonely? So desperate for any sort of human interaction with someone your age that you'd do something this stupid? That was pathetic, there was no good reason for you to be helping this guy.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

You flinched and quickly moved away. "Yes. I thought you were asleep"

"I was, kind of. I sleep very lightly just in case" He explains.

You nod with a sigh. "Were you out of food again?"

"I mean, we always are, but I came here to... I don't even know, talk?" He visibly cringed at his own words.

"Well, Private Bäumer, that was stupid of you" You couldn't help but feel annoyed at his presence. Although not annoyed enough to kick him out already.

"Call me just Paul, no one calls me like that"

"You call me ma'am, so it sounded appropriate"

"Touché, y/n" He smiled a little, not looking directly at you.

There was silence. You looked at him carefully, analyzing every detail. The mud under his nails, the dark circles under his blue eyes, the chapped lips.

"He's probably good looking when he's clean," you thought, almost immediately feeling guilty about it and looking away.

"How's life here? I suppose it is very calm," he still didn't look at you as he spoke.

"It is, usually. Recently there's been this dude who won't stop trespassing though. It's annoying as shit"

Paul chuckled. "Really? What a jerk! It must've been awful!"

"I know right? People these days are unbelievable!" You said dramatically.

He sat up with a smile. "Good thing the army's around! I'm sure the soldiers would help!" You snickered, rolling your eyes and suddenly not being that mad at him anymore.

Surprisingly, the conversation lasted for at least another couple hours, which felt like just a few minutes. As time went on, Paul started to talk more about himself and so did you.

You couldn't help but notice he had a beautiful smile.

Part III

"I brought a bottle of water, if you want some."

"I do. Thank you," he took the bottle and drank a least half of it in one go.

You two were walking in the woods, something you have been doing a lot recently. At least once a week, he would find a way to escape the trenches and you would do the most chores you could in the morning to have some free time later.

As it turns out, Paul was really nice. For the most part at least. He could also be annoying as much as he could be shy.

"I think you might actually be in love with me," he stated matter-of-factly out of nowhere.

"Excuse me?" You laughed, indignant.

"I'm just saying, I think you are," his voice was so sweet it barely even sounded sarcastic. "You like me too much."

"That's a problem?" You raised an eyebrow, curious on where he was going with this.

"Maybe. I don't know," he kept his eyes on anywhere but you, while you couldn't keep your eyes on anything but him. "Just doesn't feel like the brightest idea."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that," you chuckled and, this time, he looked back at you. For a few instants, you two just kept eye contact, feeling comfortable enough to not say anything.

Paul looked away first, maybe a bit embarrassed. "If you say so"

Everything felt lighter on those moments. Just chatting about whatever came to mind, from the most frivolous subjects to the deepest ones. And life wouldn't feel so lonely.

You listened to Paul's voice attentively. Wondering how was it even possible for you to like a person this much.

---

That night, there was another attack.

You barely got any sleep. The trenches were miles away, but you could see the lightning of the bombs in the sky. You closed the windows and prayed, trying your best to not cry or think of the worst.

---

The days passed excruciatingly slowly. You didn't get any news of Paul and was trying to at least keep focused on the chores and helping your dad with the farm. You had honestly never missed anyone like this and it was agonizing.

One day, after your dad went to sleep, you sneaked out again, needing air. You leaned back against the wall with your hands in your face and your eyes tightly closed.

You didn't sleep much that night either, or the one after that, not even in the whole week afterwards. For some moments, you tried to just accept Paul's probably dead. To simply go through whatever grief has to happen and move on. But then you would find something else to do and distract yourself from the idea. You wasn't sure why you even cared that much about a soldier whose fate was most likely always going to be this one.

Soon the sun would set again, ending another day. You were alone and had just decided to heat up water for coffee when you heard the dog barking. At first you brushed it off, but he kept barking. You sighed deeply, annoyed that you'd have to go outside.

"What is it, Otto?" You took the rifle, went outside and started looking around for you dog or why he was barking. It probably wasn't anything, as it usually wasn't.

A noise came from behind you and you quickly turned around, but before you could react any further, you felt something covering your mouth and stopping you from screaming.

"It's me, don't scream," it took a few instants to calm down and see who was really in front of you.

He took his hand off your face and you dropped the rifle on the floor to hug him.

"I'm so, so relieved to see you, Paul," your words came out muffled by how tightly you had your face pressed against his shoulder.

He was left completely in shock and took a way too long time to wrap his arms around you back. At first he was hesitant, but when he finally held you with the same strength you did, you could hear quiet crying. You couldn't even remember what had been the last time you felt human touch and it was so warm.

"Me too," he whispered. You could feel his hand on your hair. You would have to bathe again soon, but that was the last thing on your mind.

When you pulled away, the first thing you looked at were his eyes. You could never get tired of watching them.

"I know, I know. I look like shit right now," Paul said apologetically. You shook your face and put your hands on his cheek.

"No, you look great," his eyes widened and he couldn't get any word out of his mouth. "Maybe in need of a bath, but still great." You added with a small smile.

The sun was now almost gone and everything was quiet. Paul leaned against your hand and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Enjoying the silence and the comfort before he lost it again.

There were still tears on his eyes as he slowly opened them again. You gently brushed the tears away and he looked away with a embarrassed laugh.

You leaned in very slowly, giving him all the chances to pull away. But he didn't, and as he leaned closer too, you knew how much he wanted this.

Paul's lips were so soft pressed against yours. His hands made their way to your hair again and you closed your eyes. Your noses bumped and you could feel his smile as you kissed. Neither of you knew how to do this, but that didn't feel like a problem. He was here, alive, and you two had a life ahead of you to figure it out.

Both of you remained silent after you parted, still close to each other and trying to calm your heartbeats. You looked up at him again, and he did the same. There was so much you wanted to say, and not much you could get out of your mouth. Why was it always like that?

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" was what you asked.

Paul smiled. God, his smile was beautiful.

"I'd love to, please"

[hanniesbrat]

the boy is mine | k.mg | teaser

pet play w mingyu

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

genre: strangers -> fucking lol, bit of crack kinda?, smut, fluff

wc: ~300 (full fic: hopefully ~ 3k… but we all know me… it’ll be a novel)

synopsis: when one of your best friends (who also happens to be a frat bro), seungcheol, invites you to his halloween party, you hesitantly accept. you were never really the party type… but one guy, one of his friends to be exact, might single handedly change that.

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN !!!!! you GUYS you guys omg you guys this is fucking pathetic how much i’m putting into this like im just supposed to be making this for kinktober so like…. mayyyyybe 2k words tops right ? nah yall im at like 1k and mc has JUST laid eyes on him so… yeah. ill def be cutting it down regardless. anyways… ummmm if you guys end up liking the full kinktober installment of this, i may make it a series ? or at least a two parter ? idk i think mc and gyu may have some insane chemistry maybe ????? o.O room for growth and a cutesie little spark ? maybe ? anyway lemme stfu HERES THE TEASER !!!!!

ALSO!!! it’s not too late to be added for the tag list for this last kinktober installment!!! comment if you’d like to be added!! <3 esp since i don’t know the official drop date im so sorry

“what’s up?” you look over at chan who’s finishing your drink up, and he’s got his phone between his ear and shoulder. “oh shit okay! we’ll be right out!” he hung up, sliding the phone in his pocket, then turned around handing you your drink. “pretty lady,” he smiled. “cheol lets go. that was vernon, they’re outside.” he said, patting cheol on the shoulder, making his way out of the kitchen hurriedly.

“okay! you two wait right here, i’ll be back.” seungcheol requested, then ran after chan.

“oh god,” you walked forward to the counter and turned so your back was leaning on it with yuqi. you two looked out from the kitchen, into the crowd of people that had seemingly gotten significantly larger since you’d arrived minutes ago. “they’ve all gotta be members of the mystery inc huh…” you trailed off.

“i wonder what poor guy they got to be scooby,” yuqi empathized.

“i bet it’s soonyoung.”

“be so fucking for real, y/n. he’s a fucking tiger every year,” yuqi said pointedly. she was right.

just then, the room got significantly more quiet which meant- oh those boys and their group entrances…

it was never anything elaborate, but they did have to make their presence known. cheol almost always walking in first as the rest of the boys followed.

you and yuqi made your way out of the kitchen to the living room, disregarding cheol’s words from earlier. you two managed to push toward the front of the swarm of people that were gathered near the door. shouts then could be heard from all over, praising the commitment of all the boys. first cheol as fred, then chan as daphne walking alongside wonwoo as velma, and last but not least vernon as shaggy and… not soonyoung as scooby. “who the fuck is that?” you nearly drooled leaning over into yuqi’s ear.

tag list: @skzooluvr @jenoslutie @map0fthes0ul7 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goblynnrockz @actuallynarii @glttrlix @ninigyuuu

[howmanyepsofmlseason6areleft]

what r u studying?? :0

Omg thanks for asking- I'm a senior film student :D I'm actually currently doing my crazy ass senior film the coming weekends in between running this blog, so sorry for any delays that may cause :( long time followers know how college stress has killed me in the past lol.

Also, while I hate to plug, if you guys were curious about my work/ wanted to support me, I have a Gofundme for my senior film you can check out! I'm also willing to share the script as an incentive/ if anyone was curious haha, but yeah It's a project I'm super passionate about and I'm going hella broke making it even with the donations I've gotten so far, so if u wanted to support me (and by extension the blog lol) check it out!! no pressure tho obviously- I run this blog out of pure love of the show and u guys and that’s all that matters 🤩 Also I’m sure we’re all unemployed seeing as we have tumblr accounts and watch miraculous religiously 🙏

Anyhow since sharing all this is fun, heres some photos taken on sets and I guess a face reveal! And fun fact: the first two photos were actually taken in between me writing the countdown post :)

Hope y’all found any of this interesting and not lame, and I’m happy to continue to serve you all in between my crazy life ❤️❤️ since we’re almost at 3k which is HUGE, consider this a bit of a commemorative post to that and to 7 YEARS of running this blog- love u all and here’s to what I’m sure will be the many more wacky crazy years of miraculous we have ahead !! 💫💫

[realcube]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ CHARACTEROLOGY for @ani-reads

𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event

𓆩♡𓆪 chosen tropes: multiple

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR CHARACTERS ARE...

KATSUKI BAKUGO

omg he was the first character i thought of you. depending on how you are and whether you would describe yourself as perky, he could definitely be the "grumpy" to your "sunshine". well, he can pretty much fit into the majority of tropes you like. the two that really stood out to me (in terms of you and him) are (academic) rivals to lover and the "who did this to you" trope but like.. at the same time. like you are bakugo are massive rivals when it comes to pro-heroing/performance at UA and you both are always pushing each other to be better by being so competitive. but also, one day during a fight against a powerful group of villains you end up pushing yourself a bit too hard and hurting yourself or suffering from quirk overuse. so when bakugo sees you laying on the ground trying to recover your energy, he automatically assumes the worst (because he cares sm 😫) and runs up to you to see if you're okay. and depsite the fact you are both usually so mean to each other, he treats you so gently. and the look in his eyes is a complex mixture of watery concern (for your health) and pure fury at whoever did this to you. and that's like the first time he's ever been so soft towards you. but trust that when he finds out you're okay, he reverts back to his usual harsh self.. then maybe that leads into idiots in love because everyone can see he is especially fond of you after that whole interaction, but it still takes him a couple years before he is "hm 🤔 maybe.. i do like her.. a bit.."

HITOSHI SHINSO

needless to say, he is also very grumpy x sunshine coded. the two tropes that you mentioned that reminded me of shinso specifically were the 'knowing each other too well' and random little acts of service. and he's sooo casual about it too; he just loves you so effortlessly. like he'll have a book in one hand and use the other to cover the corner of a table so you don't hit your head when you lean down, but his eyes don't even deviate from the pages, he just sees you bend over out of the corner of his eye and does it. and he's so discreet sometimes too and he loves to help you out but he never wants you to feel incapable or patronised so a lot of the stuff he does for you goes unnoticed. like sometimes when you get up from a table and you put your backpack on but it's all the way open, he won't tell you because you might find that a little embrassing, so instead he just silently and covertly zips it up for you. and most of the time you don't even realise. oh and he know you too well for his own good. similar to the example you gave, if you're ever eating with him, he'll already have learned your favourite spices and condiments so whenever you open your mouth to say "can you pass me the salt/pepper/ketchup/gravy etc" he'll already have placed it in front of you before the first word even comes out. whenever you telling him a story and you're struggling to find a word for something, he'll literally finish your sentence for you. he's like irl autocorrect.

KEI TSUKISHIMA

you could get an academic rivals to lovers vibe with tsukishima as well 😍 but he wouldn't be as overt about it as bakugo. like bakugo would proclaim you as a rival or his opposition but tsukishima would go a more 'pretend you don't even exist' route. or like he doesn't even care iykwim but trust he cares too. a lot! half of the studying he does is because he couldn't stand it if you got a higher score than him (also he wants to impress you 😓). and definitely the injured trope except i imagine he's the one who gets hurt (something volleyball related probs) and you have to be the one to help him against his will bc he's insistent he can continue playing but you're like dude you're bleeding?? so he bregudgingly lets you wrap his fingers or wrist or whatever the issue is. and when he feels you being so gentle and caring with him — someone who you generally don't get along with — that is 100% the moment he falls for you.

ATSUMU MIYA

his confession to you is soo flustered and laced with frustration. not due to a lack of confidence or experience but solely because he's not used to feeling so strongly about someone romantically. like usually the other girls he's asked out were super casual and if they said no he wouldn't really mind, he'd just find another. but with you, he genuinely doesn't know what he'd do with himself if you reject him: like, does he cry? does he move country? so that's what makes it hard for him. and he's trying so hard to seem nonchalant yet you can tell he's overthinking like hell. and that's probably the majority of the reason you said yes because previously you thought he was a bit too cocky and self-assured for your liking but now that he is confessing to you, it reveals a more tender and humble side of him (that he doesn't even realise he's showing). oh and you are defo that couple that are always teasing/insulting each other in public but he's so sweet with you in private. however, hopefully that doesn't give other guys the idea that you are in the market for a new boyfriend that 'treats you better' because if any guy tries to hit on you... the switch up is gonna be insane. he'll go from calling you a 'dumbass' to his 'beautiful princess angel from heaven'. 🧐

for @ani-reads: may i just say you have FLAWLESS taste in tropes- when i was reading your list i was this is banger after banger after banger omg.

[goldenbuckyyy]

YOU ARE IN LOVE

Summary: Confessions of love lead to a place you never thought you’d be.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Word count: 6.6kish

Warnings: Idiots to lovers, SMUT (over 3k of it), oral sex (fem!receiving), raw sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, undertones of Dom!Draco, pretty much making love

A/N: hi!!!! Omg, it’s finally here! Yay!! Here’s PART 4 of my Heather series. 🥺 my baby!! I’m so happy for this part. Hopefully you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think at the end!! I love them so much 😭💚 please read the first three parts before this one (linked below) Song for this fic: “You are in love” by Taylor Swift

Also hit 400 followers recently 🥺🫶🏻 thank you!!

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The cold November chill felt welcomed on your skin as you stood in the Astronomy tower. You overlooked Hogwarts with a smile, knowing this is the last Thanksgiving you’d ever spend here, but you didn’t feel sad right now. 

You felt grateful for your experience here because not many were that lucky. You had stayed for Thanksgiving break once back in your second year and it was magical. So beautiful. You loved it. Draco had stayed with you then. He never left you alone. 

But you were alone now. You knew he was back at the Malfoy manor. You watched him leave to catch the train just days ago. You pretended to forget something at the castle as your friends went to the train, but it was just an excuse so nobody would know that you were staying for the holiday. 

You didn’t want Draco finding out. You wanted to be alone. 

You slowly let your fingers run along the railing, the cold metal against your warm skin making you shiver slightly, and you tug your orange sweater over your palms to warm you up again. 

Today was Thanksgiving. One of your favorite holidays. You mostly enjoyed it because of the food. But truthfully, who didn’t? 

You were going to miss your mom's homemade Thanksgiving dinner. Especially the apple pie you and your dad always made for the holiday. But Hogwarts is going to have to make do. You’re sure they won’t disappoint. They never do. 

You had noticed there were a bit more students that had decided to stay. You were surprised to see so many students in your class. They probably wanted to enjoy their last Thanksgiving here as a student at Hogwarts. You were surprisingly happy to have chosen to stay. 

You start making your way down to the Great Hall for Thanksgiving dinner. Your belly is begging for food already. You only drank a warm cup of hot chocolate this morning because you loved to wait to eat until dinner time. That way you had more room for the feast. 

You had chosen to dress up today either way. You had paired your orange oversized sweater with a black skirt, it was one of those fitted ones that you really liked, black sheer leggings, and your pair of black booties. It was simple, but you felt pretty. 

You had even applied some makeup and styled your hair to your own liking. You even managed to find your cute pair of thanksgiving earrings. They were two little pumpkin pies. You thought it was hilarious when your mom gifted them to you when you were a kid. You’ve worn them every year since. 

You enter the Great Hall with a smile on your face, the different foods filling your space, you inhale deeply, almost moaning at the thought of eating already, and look around to see where you can sit. 

You spot the Golden Trio sitting down at the Gryffindor table. Talking amongst themselves enthusiastically and laughing. You noticed all the different students from different houses had all gathered at the same table. You smiled at that and made your way to Harry.

Ron notices you first, his elbow shoving Harry suddenly, Harry whimpering an “Ow!” He's about to shove Ron when Ron raises his eyebrows towards you, you’re still smiling as you walk towards them. Harry does the same thing he always does when he sees you. 

He sits up straighter, fixes his glasses, and smiles at you. 

“Hi, Harry!” You say as you reach them, standing next to Hermoine. Who has an empty seat next to her. She looks up at you, smiling, they all welcome you, “Is this seat taken?” 

“No, of course not!” Harry blubbers out with a rush. 

Ron and Hermoine snicker at his reaction, Hermoine places her hand on your forearm, “Sit, Y/N. You’re more than welcomed to join us.” 

You beam at her as you sit next to her. You both fall into conversation, completely forgetting about Ron and Harry, and gush about different topics. It was so incredibly easy to talk to Hermoine. Even Ron and Harry. 

They had even admitted to you a couple days ago that they were scared of you because of your friendship with Draco. You laughed loudly when they told you and teased them about it. You had even told them that Draco only puts on a front at them, but was truthfully a nice person. They were hesitant to believe you, but you didn’t force your words at them. 

Ron watches you and Hermoine with wide eyes, he looks at Harry, who looks about the same, “It’s like we don’t even exist, mate.” Harry hums in agreement. 

Soon enough, the long table is filled with the Thanksgiving feast. 

You gawk at the food in front of you. All the classics. The delicious looking turkey, the honey glazed pineapple ham, sweet potato casserole with brown butter on top, extra cheesy Mac and cheese, mash potatoes, corn casserole, and everything pumpkin flavored. 

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin juice, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin topping. It was overwhelming. 

You noticed your favorite butterbeer cookies eyeing you already. You reached over to grab some before they finished. 

You all start digging into the food, you enjoy a little bit of everything until you feel satisfied. 

The talks and laughter around you never stops. You feel happy with a belly full of food and a mouth filled with laughter. 

The Great Hall starts emptying slowly and you feel someone sit down next to you, you turn with a smile, and it doesn’t falter when you see Cedric. Dressed in his favorite Hufflepuff sweater and scarf combo along with a dazzling smile. 

You turn to face him, tilting your head on your arm, “Hi!” 

“Hi,” he chuckles out with crinkling eyes. 

You were happy that thankfully Cedric was okay with being only friends with you. It was a slightly awkward conversation the next night after what had happened she tween you two. Or what had almost happened. 

He had caught you on your way back to the Slytherin quarters, you had both gone to sit at one of the benches in the hall, and spoke openly about the past events. 

You apologized profusely about what had happened and he stopped you midway so he could apologize. He repeatedly asked you if you had felt he had taken advantage of you. With careful reassurance that you had consented to what had happened, every step of the way, and explained to him how you didn’t think it was fair to either of you to pursue something when your heart was truthfully with someone else. 

He didn’t ask who, but you knew that he knew. 

“How are you doing?” You ask him, nibbling on a butterbeer cookie. 

“I’m doing alright, are those good?” He questions curiously, you had him a piece, and he chews on it and rolls his eyes back, “Bloody brilliant, yeah?” 

“Indeed,” you hum back with a chuckle. 

Easy conversation flows between you two about the end of the semester and how lovely it is to be here for the Holidays. You both agreed that it was the right choice to stay here and that maybe you’d both stay again for Christmas. You had never stayed for Christmas and the Trio said they were going to stay as well. 

“I’m staying then,” you state happily, sipping on your pumpkin juice, and laughing at Ron’s comments to Hermione about something ridiculous. 

Hermoine nudges you suddenly, you look at her confused, her face falling as she’s looking towards the Great Hall double doors, and you turn quickly to see what’s she’s looking at. 

You feel your heart drop to your stomach when you see Draco standing there. He’s wearing his sweater, your favorite one, black slacks, and you notice his hair is loose and framing his forehead in curls. 

His eyes are already on you. 

You furr your eyebrows in confusion as you wonder what he’s doing here. You look around at your friends, who are looking at you in confusion, only knowing the bare minimum of what you had told them. But they knew something was going on between you two. 

“Excuse me,” you say quickly, grabbing your extra butterbeer cookies, and walk towards Draco. 

He waits for you at the entrance and immediately follows you as you walk out. 

You stop in the empty hallway, “What are you doing here?” You question him as you try to keep your voice steady. 

You fumble with the cookies in your hand, not wanting to look up at him, and he sighs deeply above you. 

“My mother told me you were spending the holiday here. Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve come home with me.” 

You huff, “No, I couldnt.” 

“Why not? Because we’re in a fight?” Draco’s tone is not harsh, but in disbelief. You avoid his gaze and look to the side. 

“It doesn’t matter if we’re in a fight. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to be alone on one of your favorite holidays.” 

“I’m not alone…I’m with my friends,” you reply quickly, brushing your hair away from your face, and trying to keep your heart from racing. 

“And what am I?” 

You finally look up at him when he says that. His gray eyes peering at you, his lips turned down into a frown, and he waits for your reply. You notice his fingertips are itching to grab your wrists. His hands go into tight fists to keep them to himself. 

Your heart skips a beat because you miss him so much. It’s only been over a week that you’ve spoken to him. Been in his bed. 

But it feels like a lifetime and it’s slowly killing you. 

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, the corners of your lips frowning, your eyes taking him in, “You’re… you’re my Draco.” 

You both start casually walking down the hall, you both on instinct go towards the peach three in the courtyard, and you both sit down on the bench under the tree.

You shiver slightly as the cold wind brushes against your warm cheeks and Draco silently curses at himself for not bringing a coat with him to the Great Hall. 

You turn to face him, still holding your cookies in your hands, and look at him. Your heart feels heavy as you both stare at each other. 

His eyes look into yours with such sadness in them that it makes you want to curl into a ball and weep. You feel yourself starting to shake slightly because of how nervous you feel. 

Is this the end? The real end between you two? 

“Hey,” his voice startles you, soft and sweet, his hands finally inch towards you, and he takes your free one into his warm palms. His big hand covering yours completely. 

“Why are you shaking? It’s just me,” he whispers as he pushes a stray hair away from your face, his thumb caressing your cheek slightly, you feel yourself flush underneath his gaze, and you shuffle on the bench. 

“I feel this way because of you,” you admit, not breaking eye contact with him. 

“I…” Draco starts to say, but quickly stops talking when he notices a couple people walking around the halls and chatting in the corridor as well. 

He doesn’t let go of your hand, “We should go somewhere more private.” 

“Like where?”

He opens his mouth, but closes it. His jaw locks, his eyes slowly avert from yours, but then he looks back. Your eyebrows raise in confusion as you wait for him to speak.

“What about my room?” His voice filled with uncertainty. 

You still. You haven’t set foot in his room since the argument you last had in there. You hadn’t even bothered to go and get your things that you had left there. You hadn’t wanted to face him yet. 

A part of you wants to go back in there. You miss the warmth and comfort you felt there. 

Lately, all you’ve felt is loneliness as you sleep alone every night in the empty bed in your big room. 

The emptiness of his side next to you never left your mind. You find yourself nodding, he gets up, you follow, and he leads you towards his room. 

He stops in front of the door after walking up the steps, you behind him, and he whispers his password to the painting in front of the door. 

He whispers your favorite spell.

Your heart tugs a bit that he didn’t change it. You know it hasn’t been that long, but it’s been the longest time the both of you have gone without each other. 

He opens the door and the sweet smell of apples mixed with cinnamon and vanilla fills your senses. You let your eyes close slightly, inhaling the mesmerizing scent, and you follow him inside his room. 

He walks around the room and you stand near the door, feeling a bit awkward, not knowing what to do anymore in this room, and you watch him. 

He peers at you as he sits in his emerald green loveseat, he gestures to the matching chair in the corner of the room, and you start walking towards it. You glance around the room, taking notice that all your belongings are still in the same place, and you wish they weren’t. 

You secretly wish he had already packed up your belongings into a box to make this easier. You sit down and set your cookies onto the table in between you two. 

“Do you want some tea or coffee?” He asks as he’s about to stand up to make some. 

“No, it’s okay.” 

He pauses and sits back down. He turns his body towards you, his leg bouncing up and down, and he lets out a deep sigh. 

A couple minutes pass with you both sitting in silence. You gulp down your nerves and open your mouth to speak. 

“Draco?” You ask. 

Your voice fills his ears like sweet honey. “Yes?” 

“Why am I here?” You question him as you let out a sigh. 

“I’m a coward,” he blurts out, turning his face to look at you, you frown. 

“What?” 

“I am a coward. Draco Malfoy is a coward.” 

You adjust yourself into your seat, placing one leg underneath your bottom, and fully face him.

“Draco,” you say, reaching over to him and taking his hand in both of yours. “What are you talking about?” 

His hand grips yours, “The last time you were here… You, uh, you asked me if I ever thought about doing.. what we do… with, umm, someone else.” Your eyes furr because Draco is fumbling with his words and he never does. 

“I remember,” you tell him, a pang in your chest when you remember what he said after you asked him that last time. 

“Well.. I.. I, uh, I lied to you.” 

You sit up straight. His eyes racing over your face, taking in your different expressions, “I know I insinuated that I thought about doing that with Heather, but I lied. I’ve never thought about doing what we do with anybody else. Ever.” 

You scoff at him, not believing him, “What are you going off about, Draco? You’ve fancied Heather since the day you met her.” You try to pull your hand out of his, but he grips onto it.

“I told you that day that I never thought about doing this with someone else and I meant it. I know I said I fancied Heather, but I swear.. I… I never have.”

“You lied to me?” You say in disbelief. A part of you wanting to be happy that he never fancied her, but why did he lie to you?

“I… I did.” 

“Why? What are you saying?” You pull your hand out of his with force, standing up quickly and starting to pace around the room, as the memories of that conversation fill your mind. 

Draco sits up in the loveseat, facing you, and pouting. 

“I asked you if you felt anything for me! I asked you if I was more than just your friend! You didn’t say anything! I gave you a chance to say anything, to say something, and you bloody stayed quiet! You never said anything! And then I’m with Cedric that night and you burst into his room, demanding I go with you, and for what? For you to never say anything else to me? Then we didn't talk for almost a week and now… now… now you want to say something? Why?” 

You continue to pace the room, confusion filling you, and you stop in front of him. Hands on your hips, chest raising angrily, and you watch him. 

He doesn’t say anything, biting the skin around his fingernails, and he bites his lower lip with nerves. 

“What’s going on, Draco? You’re confusing me,” you cry out at him.

“I am a coward that didn’t see what was in front of him until it was too late,” he stands up, towering over you, taking his hands in his, and you both look into each other’s eyes. 

“I am in love with you,” he confesses in a whisper. You suck in a gasp, your world stills at his words, and you start shaking your head. 

You frown deeply, “Stop it.” 

Draco grips your hands in his tightly, “This… this thing between us started in fifth year.. we were barely fifteen years old. We both decided to do this, but a part of me only agreed because I wanted you to want me the same way I’ve always wanted you,” you mouth parts in shock, “A part of me has always loved you. I… I think I’ve always known that I have, but I’ve always been a coward at admitting it to myself. That was almost four years ago next year… And… my-my love for you has only grown.” 

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you stare up at him, trying your hardest to wrap your mind around his words, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks. 

“Please, don’t cry,” he whispers as his thumb wipes away your tears gently. 

Your lips quiver, “I… I’m having a hard time believing you, Draco.” Your confession stuns him, he looks at you with confusion. 

“Wh-what?” His voice is shaky. 

“What about Heather?” 

His eyes darted away from your face for a second, “I… I, um, I made it up.”

“You what?” You feel different emotions filling your body. Confusion at his confession. Anger that he lied to you. Happiness because he feels the same way. Guilt for what you had done with Cedric. 

“I didn’t lie when I said I met Heather because of my mom in the summer. But I’ve never felt anything towards her. Ever. I only said that to you because I was hoping to make you jealous,” another confession slips his lips. 

“To… make me jealous?” You repeat his words, feeling distress. 

He nods, his body language showing you he’s ashamed of his actions, and he sighs. “I… I know my actions are confusing you.. and I know you might need some time, but…” he pauses and his palms cup your face gently, “I am in love with you.” 

Your breathing is picking up, you’re looking at him in shock, everything you’ve ever wanted to hear… he’s saying it right now. 

“I’m so in love with you that I was deeply afraid of letting you know because of the fear that you didn’t feel the same way about me. But if I would have just looked deeper… I would have seen and heard what you were trying to tell me…” 

“And what was that?” You whisper out, your hands slowly moving to palm his hands on your face. 

“That you’re in love with me too,” he pleads, voice wavering with hope. 

“Draco,” you whisper, tears falling down your cheeks, closing your eyes as you let a whimper fall out between your lips. 

“Do you not believe me?” He questions, hurt filling the room. 

You sniff as you lean your face into his palms, crying out, “Can you blame me?” 

Before you know it, you feel Draco’s hands leaving your face, you look for his hands, and he’s kneeling in front of you. 

“What? Draco, what are you doing?” 

He holds your hands in his, his knees touching the floor, he lets out a quiet cry. 

Your heart breaks at hearing him cry. 

“Y/N…” he begins, “Its always been you.” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, “I have always loved you, never anybody else. I swear it. I have never once felt the way I feel for you for anybody else. Never.” 

He grips your hands in his, kissing the palms of your wrists, “You are the only one I’m ever going to want.” His voice is shaking, “It’s you who I want next to me. Warming my bed, forever. You’re everything I want. Everything!” 

You both are staring at each other, crying together, he continues, “I know I’m a bloody fucking idiot for not saying this sooner and I know it’s hard to believe me right now after everything… but I’m so in love with you that merely thinking about anybody else… It sickens me. You are the only person that matters to me. You’re the only one I see in my future.” 

You fall to your knees in front of him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands gripping your waist so your knees don’t hit the floor as he tugs you into him, and you cry. 

“Draco, I…” your lips quiver, “I’m so sorry for what I did with Cedric. I… I thought you didn’t feel the same way and I just wanted to forget about you.” 

Draco shakes his head rapidly, “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I was a coward and you were just trying to move on from my bloody dumbass.” 

You let out a giggle at his words, you wipe his tears away from his face as he wipes away yours, “I’m in love with you, too.” You confess, your heart rate accelerating at saying those words out loud. Finally. 

His eyes lighten up at your words. 

“I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. It has been hell without you since our last argument and I never want to go through that again.” You lay your head on his shoulder, sniffing and whimpering into him, and he holds you in his arms tightly. 

“It won’t ever happen again, I swear.” 

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear as his hands tangle into your hair. You scruff your head onto his shoulders, taking him in, and breathing in his warm scent all around you. 

You both lean out, his forehead on yours, your eyes are closed, you can feel his heartbeat against you, and his breathing increasing slightly. 

One of his hands grasp your neck, you lean up to look at him, his eyes wander your face and land on your lips. Your hands are holding onto his biceps as one of his free arms wraps around your waist, gently and with hesitance. As if he’s scared to touch you. 

“I’ve missed you terribly, my love.” 

You lick your lips, “I missed you more.” You let your gaze stop on his lips, he parts them open, and you both start leaning into each other. 

You met in the middle, your lips centimeters apart, you can smell his mint breathe, and you shiver at being this close to him again. 

“Draco,” you whisper out as you close your eyes, letting your body melt into his, and he pulls you into his space with his arms. 

His lips touch yours gently, you whimper at the feeling as fire erupts in your belly at the contact, goosebumps breaking out over your skin, and your eyes flutter closed. 

You move your arms to wrap around his neck as your lips move against his, it’s as if you’ve never been apart, and you feel fuzzy like you always do when you kiss him. You feel your body already reacting to his touch and you cry out for him. 

Draco’s tongue slowly lines your bottom lip, you part your mouth open for him, and your tongues meet in the middle. You both moan simultaneously, one of his hands gripping your waist, the other on the back of your neck, and you grip your arms together around him. You lean up to kiss him harder and he bites your bottom lip which causes you to whine loudly. 

You pull away from him, his mouth sucking on your lip, and you groan against him. His hands move towards the end of your sweater, you feel him hesitate, and you look at him with a small smile. Feeling your skin flushed. 

“I trust you,” you breathe out, his eyes flutter, and he smiles sweetly at you. He wraps his lips around yours once more, his hands inch underneath your sweater, and your skin feels as if it’s on fire. His big warm hands on your skin making your belly erupt with butterflies. 

“God, I’ve missed your skin.” He starts to kiss down your neck with big open mouthed kisses, leaving love bites down as he goes, his eyes looking up at you with pleasure, and you moan with every kiss. You grind your hips against his, your hands clinging onto his shoulders, and you pull away from him. 

You stand up quickly, pulling him up with you, and you both stand in front of each other. 

You take one step back, letting yourself take him in, the big dent in his slacks making your mouth water, and you reach down to tug off your sweater. 

You throw it to the side, letting him look at your chest, your breasts are covered with a lacy black bra, and you're both breathing heavily. You kick off your boots with ease, he follows your lead by tugging off his sweater, and unbuckling his belt. 

You both hold eye contact as you lower down your skirt and him his slacks. You lick your lips once you see him in only his tight black briefs, your mouth feeling dry when he palms himself to try and relieve the pressure he’s feeling, he hisses at his own touch, you tighten your legs together for a second to slow down the throbbing you feel, and you slide your hands into your sheer leggings. 

You bend down slowly to pull them off your legs and you stand in front of him, holding the lace of your panties in between your fingers. 

Draco's eyes are taking you in, every single inch of you, and you don’t feel insecure under his stare. You missed the way he ate you up with his eyes, he’s biting his lips as his eyes go down to your breasts, your navel, and land on your most private area. 

You feel yourself wet with anticipation and want. 

“Lay down,” Draco orders, chills run down your spine at his tone, and your body follows before your mind can. You lay down on the bed, with your arms underneath you to hold you up, and Draco moves to hover over your body. 

You feel him against your thigh, hard, and you moan when he kisses your neck. 

His arms are caging you underneath him, “Can I touch you, baby?” 

You nod at him as you reach up to kiss his lips, slowly. 

His hand slips underneath your torso, he unclips your bra, you let it fall over your shoulders, pulling it off your chest, and his mouth immediately meets with your already perked nipples. 

You gasp when his warm tongue laps on your nipples, he moves between both of your breasts, his hands cupping each one of them, the moans you let out only fuels him, and he starts moving down your stomach. 

He lets his tongue swirl around your belly, licking your naval, and his hands grip onto your panties. 

He swiftly pulls them down, he sits on his knees with your legs on his shoulders, he pulls off your panties, he kisses the inside of your ankle, and you open your legs for him. 

Your hands grip your breasts as he admires you. You’re soaking and he knows it. 

He watches your glistening pussy underneath him, all for him, he moans at the sight, and curses. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he licks up your calf, bitting the inside of your thighs, and you whimper. His eyes are locked on yours, he’s making sure you’re watching him, and you bite your bottom lip when his mouth hovers over your pussy. 

“Dray,” you whisper, hitching your hips to him, and he tsks at you. 

“Always so inpatient,” he says with a chuckle, he lowers himself down flat, and spreads your legs wider. His mouth latches onto you, you moan out loudly when you feel his wet tongue on you, his tongue laying flat on your folds, then flicking up to your clit. 

You gasp sharply, your breathing increasing with pleasure, and you tilt your head back as your hands grasp onto his almost white locks. 

Your hips move with his mouth in sync, he licks and slurps your wetness, your clit throbbing against him, “I’ve missed your taste, princess.” His breaths on you, you move your legs onto his shoulders, and pull him down to you again. 

He continues to eat you up, he slowly lets a finger enter you, you cry out at the sensation, feeling yourself tight around his digit, and he works you open slowly. 

He groans against your pussy as he feels how tight you are around him, he couldn’t believe he had gone so long without you, and he inserts a second finger without warning. 

You gasp again, feeling yourself burning up as he opens you, his fingers curling inside of you is something you hadn’t realized how much you had missed, and Draco starts moving his hips into the mattress. 

Your mouth parts with pants as his fingers find your sweet spot, “Draco!” You breathe out with a moan, his tongue lapping your wetness faster, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking on it, your legs are starting to shake as you near your orgasm, and he increases his speed inside of you. 

His fingers keep fucking into you, his tongue licking you in the right places, and playing with your clit at all the right moments. 

“You’ve always tasted amazing, sweetheart.” Draco quickly says to you before he continues doing what he does best. 

You whine out, hands locked into his hair, your back arching up with pleasure, and he moves his free hand to play with your nipples. You tug onto his locks feeling yourself getting closer and knowing that’s the signal you use to tell him.

Draco moans against your pussy, sending vibrations to your clit, and you feel your lower belly start contracting with your anticipating orgasm. 

You feel tears in the corner of your eyes, your hips grinding against his mouth, and he curls his fingers inside of you one more time. 

“Draco!” You yell out in pleasure as your orgasm takes over you suddenly. His mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it, your entire body shaking with euphoria, and Draco only slurps up all your wetness. 

Draco moans against your pussy, licking you slowly as you come down, your chest raising up and down to catch your breath, and Draco slowly pulls away from you. His fingers inside of you exit slowly and you bite your lip looking at him. 

Draco’s lips are swollen and puffy, he licks them and sucks his bottom lip, you reach down to him, pulling at him from his arms, and wrapping your lips around his. Moaning as you taste yourself on him. His hand wrapping underneath your neck, pulling your naked body into his, his warm-flushed skin feeling hot against you, and you both lean your foreheads together. 

You look down at his still covered dick and look into his eyes again. He waits for you to say something, his gray eyes looking beautiful, and you reach down to shove off his briefs. 

Draco moves one of his hands to help you, you feel his big dick hit your thighs, and you know he’s absolutely throbbing against you. 

“I can’t wait to feel you,” Draco whispers into your neck as he pumps himself quickly, you spread open your legs, placing your hands on his face, he aligns himself with you, you both stare into each other’s eyes, he rubs his dick up and down your wetness, hitting your clit gently, you moan, and then you feel him at your entrance. 

You’re both breathing deeply, his dick entering your folds, and you bite your lower lip. One of his hands underneath your waist and the other holding your face. It’s as if the world stills around you both. It feels as if it’s just you two at this moment. Just you two in this world and nobody else. 

Draco's eyes never leave yours as he slowly moves himself to enter you, you gasp at the feeling, he moans at your tightness around him, and his tip moves deeper inside of you. Slowly. 

You pull him closer into you, your pussy stretching around him, feeling so full once again, and you cry out to the missed feeling. 

His lips connect on yours passionately, “Always so fucking tight for me.” 

You nod at his words, kissing his lips, clenching around him, his mouth parting open on yours, you both letting out moans against each other’s lips at the pleasure, and he starts moving his hips against yours. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against his lips, licking the inside of his mouth, rocking your hips against his, your noses nudging together, and he lets out a whimper as he bottoms out inside of you. 

“I’ve missed you so.. so, fuck, so fucking much.” His lips kiss your face, down your chin, and your neck. Leaving sloppy kisses all over you. 

He sucks on your collarbone, leaving more love bites because he knows you love to see them, and you roll your hips against his. 

His tongue swirls around your breasts again, your bodies moving together in sync, sweat already coating your skin, and his thrusting gets deeper inside of you. You feel so full right now. Feeling so full of Draco. 

Tears prick your eyes as you realize you are making love to Draco Malfoy. He’s making love to you. Maybe this isn’t the first time you make love, but it’s the first time you do after confessing your love to each other. 

Draco notices your tears, he kisses them away without pausing his motions, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. 

“You’re perfect, baby. So fucking good for me. Like always.” 

He praises you, licking your earlobe and sucking on it, you grip the back of his neck as his words consume you, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks slowly. 

You moan out when he wraps one of his arms underneath your waist to hitch you up higher, his angle making his dick go in deeper, and all you feel is bliss. Blissfulness and love all around you. The room smells like vanilla, caramel, and sweet sex. 

His lips wrap around yours once again, your pussy squeezing around him, wanting to make him feel you, and he moans into your mouth. 

Draco swiftly switches your positions as he’s now sitting down on the bed, his legs parted open, you sitting down on him, hovering over his dick, and you align yourself again with him. 

Draco holds your hips with his big hands, looking down at himself as you reach down for him, you hold him steady while you lower yourself down into him. He’s watching himself enter your sweet pussy.

“Fuck,” he whispers at you, admiring the view. 

His hands grip your hips while you take him in, squeezing your walls around him, “Fucking shit.” He curses as he watches you take him in deep. 

You moan out, eyes rolling back at the sensation, setting your hands down on his shoulders to get a good rhythm, his hips moving into yours, and once you both get a good rhythm.. he pulls you into his lips once more. 

You kiss him, mouth open, both moaning together, your hips grinding down on his, feeling him everywhere, he’s filling you up so nicely, your breasts against his chest, his arm wraps around your waist holding you, and his forehead is against yours. 

In this position, you could feel him so deeply. Your walls contracting on his dick with every thrust, his moans as your clench only makes you wetter, and you both cry out at the feeling. 

His free hand moves in between the space of your bodies, his fingers inch towards your clit, and you whimper when you feel him touch your sensitive bud. 

“Draco,” you cry in a whisper, he slowly moves his fingers against you, kissing your neck, and you tilt your head back to let him. 

“Look at me,” he says, your body immediately reacts to his words, and you’re facing him. You look fucked and he loves it. He finds the most pleasure in making you feel this way. He loves it. 

You make eye contact with him, he licks his lips, and you don’t look away. You’re both panting together, bodies moving as if they are one, and you slowly start feeling the orgasm coming again. 

“I’m close,” you whisper, “Are you?” You ask him because you won’t come again until he does. He knows this. 

His hips are still meeting yours, soft and slow, but with so much passion. His dick hitting your soft spot inside of you, getting you closer to your release. 

He nods, kissing you slowly, and he increases his speed on your clit. You both keep staring at each other, panting only getting louder, whines getting closer together, your legs are shaking slightly, his hips are moving faster and sloppier, and you’re waiting for him to reach his orgasm. 

You feel your orgasm at the brink of taking over you when Draco orders, “Come for me.” 

Instincly, both of your hands intertwined together tightly. 

You cry out as your orgasm takes over your body, shaking entirely, his hips moving into you as he releases into your pussy at the same time you do, and you pull him into a kiss to ride out both of your orgasms. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your mouth, his hips still moving underneath you as you both ride out your orgasms, he’s filling you up deep with his cum, and you kiss him harder. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat into his mouth, tears running down your face, and you feel tears running down his as well. 

“It’s always been you. Always.”

You cry at his words, you both pull away from each other, foreheads leaning together, still connected, and feeling the post-orgasm bliss. 

You look into his eyes, wondering how you could never tell how much he loved you, and you smile at him with tears in your eyes. 

“You’re my best friend,” he admits with a smile. 

He’s so in love with you. 

You cry out a giggle, placing your hands on his face, kissing him slowly, “You’re my best friend.” You never thought you’d be in this situation.

Finally.

You can feel it all around. All you feel is love. Love between you and Draco. There’s nothing but silence in this room, but you know he feels it too. 

You’re in love with Draco Malfoy. 

And he’s in love with you. 

[cosmal]

AYO CONGRATS ON 3K!! love ur blog and ur writing and u immensely.

(tbh i have this irrational fear of making requests even if people are like "make a request pls" but i saw ur post and literally u don't have to tell me twice. for future reference blink twice if u want to hear every single thought of mine ever.)

spacey jane: james potter + you're here, that's the thing by beabadoobee

"i've got you wrapped around my finger like a piece of ribbon, you just won't admit it that you're smitten"

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 — 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you thank you!!!! please omg request whatever yo whenever you want. i love all requests i get and appreciate them so so much. omg.

summary — james let’s you take him home when he’s drunk. james’s friends think he’s whipped.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, drunk!james

You can hear him before you see him. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be loud, you know that too well. You follow the noise from the front door all the way to the sitting room.

You’re not sure what you and James are. He’s not your boyfriend. But, he calls you sweetheart and he kisses your cheek sometimes when you want him to. He invites you places with his friends but spends the entire time with you. He gets you flowers, not ones from the florist on his street, ones he finds when he walks to your house that he says remind him of you. He visits you with lunch during your breaks when you’re studying. He gets two of the same, but no meat in yours because he knows you don’t eat it. And sits and eats with you, listening to everything you have to say about how school is going.

But despite those things, he’s not your boyfriend.

But when he sees you for the first time tonight, and his face lights up more than you’d hoped it would because you’re really trying not to get ahead of yourself, you sort of wish he was your boyfriend.

“Y/N!” he cheers, still loud. Still very hearty.

“Hey,” you smile. You try to direct it around the room. You really like his friends and you don’t want to play favourite. Even though you’re definitely softer on him than the others. You’ve never kissed Remus on the cheek because you fancy him.

You sit on the arm of the sofa he’s at and try not to act too affected when he sets his hand on your thigh. His palm flush with the hem of your shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. It’s more of a slur. Words sticky with intoxication. His face is flushed and you fight the urge to press your fingers into his warm skin.

“I’m your lift,” you remind him. Like you hadn’t spoke on the phone no less than an hour ago.

“Y/N!” he’d yelled down the line. “Y/N, could you pick me up tonight?”

“Yeah, of course, James.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one.”

You didn’t have the guts to say it, but you’d do anything for him if he asked.

“Oh, right,” he laughs, attention turned back to the plastic cup in his hands. He swigs whatever’s in it. “We’re playing strip poker.”

Everyone’s still clothed. You think maybe they haven’t started yet.

“Wanna play?” Sirius asks, shuffling a deck of cards. He looks almost as drunk as James. Remus and Emmeline look like they’re on their way to join them.

“Shut the fuck up, Pads,” James groans. He might be blushing. You might also be imagining it.

“What?” he snorts.

“She doesn’t want to play.” James sits up in his chair, sniffing, he adds, “neither do I, really.”

“It was your idea!”

“Whatever.”

You don’t want to play. If James Potter were to ever see you naked, you don’t want it to be with his friends as well.

James sips from his drink again to occupy his mouth. If you weren’t here, he might’ve said what he really wanted to say to Sirius. Something he usually does when it’s just the two of them.

He spills the majority of his drink down the front of his lovely red shirt. You take it from his hands, wiping the mess from his cheeks. James sits and lets you do it with no problems.

“Can we do shots?” Sirius asks. You glare at James’s friend. A look that reads your friend is off his face and you want to do shots?

“Yes!” James cheers through a hiccup. You stable a hand on his back.

While Sirius gets up to go find shot glasses, you lean down to whisper into James’s ear. “Do you want to go home?”

James stops splashing around his drink in his cup to look at you. “Maybe,” he says, blinking slowly. You think it’s quite adorable. “Do you?”

“Only if you do.”

“I am feeling a bit sick.”

And he wanted to do shots. “Yeah?” you ask, squeezing his shoulder. “You can stay at mine if you want.” You only suggest it because you live close by.

James grins. “Can I do a shot first?”

“I don’t think so, baby.” You run a knuckle over his flushed cheek. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.”

You don’t mean to be that girl that steals the boy they’re talking to away from a party. But you think if he drinks anything else he might be sick. He needs water and a bed.

When Sirius gets back you’re helping James from the sofa, hand held through his. He wobbles and you stable him with a hand behind his back.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Sirius asks.

“Home,” James tells him. “Well, not really. I’m going to Y/N’s house.”

“As if. It’s 9pm on a Friday.”

“Sirius, fuck up,” James argues. “I’m going to a girls house and you’re gonna get over it.”

“You’re drunk, Y/N won’t touch you.”

You balk. “I’m gonna clean him up and put him to bed.”

James grins boyishly. “She’s gonna put me to bed.”

“God, you’re fucking whipped, mate.” Sirius finds it hard to act incensed over his friends happiness. It’s still fun.

“Shut up. Go finish reading that book Moony told you about.”

Sirius blushes. Grumbling all the way back to his seat. “Moons, my best friend sucks.”

James forgets about the idea of shots as soon as he gets into your car and you keep your hand held in his when you can the entire drive to yours. He won’t let anyone know how much he loves getting doted on by you at your house. He might get drunk a little more often, he thinks, if there’s a chance you’ll wash his face and help him into your bed.

[scarasimping]

love-avoidant princess

pirate!scaramouche x princess!reader

synopsis: scaramouche’s crew had been planning this heist for years prior, and finally, they dock ship at the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world with only one goal in mind: infiltrate the castle and steal the crown used for the coronation ceremony. The only setback? The princess had already stolen it, so now he has to go through her. 

tags: fem!reader, allusions to medieval sexism, you know how that is, mentions of blood like once, alcohol also mentioned a couple times, i believe that’s it for this part!

author’s note: ITS DONE omg, this took way longer than i thought but I guess that’s what happens when i try to throw myself in to writing actual pieces for the first time in three years instead of taking it slow. and it only ended up being 3k words TT but this is not the end, i have way more in mind for these two, this is honestly more like...a prologue of sorts!! hope you all enjoy !! so glad we actually have a plot now instead of me posting random hcs hshshshs also yes, his crew is most of the anemo characters because I said so

word count: 3.63k

One can only see the same garden of flowers so many times before becoming bored of the sight. You have walked through here on so many occasions that you're sure that you could list each plant by its scientific name in the order they appear, from the front of the garden to the back.

So, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to your retainer when they watch you leave a meeting with a potential suitor halfway through your millionth walk through the garden.

The suitor was confused, calling out to you and running to keep up with your fast-paced steps.

"Princess! Did I do something wrong?" He shouted, but you shook your head, an unimpressed and uncaring look painting your features.

"I apologize for saying this after you made the long journey here, but this simply will not work between us."

And thus, another man was rejected by the unromantic princess.

Known for turning down every suitor imaginable, you had gained the reputation of being entirely against romance. Even though you were clearly not interested, this only made people want you more, and your father, who was eager to get you married off, agreed to let everyone interested in you meet you, as long as they were of high enough standing. This included royalty from other kingdoms, wealthy businessmen, and other government officials or their sons who were your age. 

None of them even came close to winning your heart.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with them. To be honest, even you weren’t sure why you were so bored with every man or woman you met. It seemed to be more the life you would lead with them than the suitor themselves that made you gag. No first-born heir of a royal family wants to be married off; they want to have the throne! And if your parents weren’t going to give it to you, then you wouldn’t make it easy for them to send you away.

As you gracefully left the heartbroken businessman behind, the retainer assigned to watch over you hurriedly followed, barely keeping up with your pace.

"Princess, this is the seventh suitor you've met. Please tell me, what is wrong with this one?" he pleaded. In truth, he was scared to report more bad news to the king and queen, but frankly, that was not your problem.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just do not see myself having a life with him," you replied, staring straight ahead and hoping he would stop following you. After forcing yourself to be nice to these suitors, all you wanted was to lay in bed and nap, or maybe practice your sparring skills with your sword.

"We'll have to tell your father about this," he gave you one last warning, but your mind was already made up.

"I understand, but I'm not altering my decision."

Just as you and your retainer thought, your father was not pleased, going on one of his long-winded rants about how you should get married quickly because it’s “better for the kingdom” and “what a princess should do.” All the while, your mother sat and watched, not saying a word because she knew that she did the same thing when she was your age. It was how your parents met in the first place, after all.

"At this rate, your little brother will have inherited the throne before you're satisfied with a man." The king ends his rant with this statement, huffing angrily as he furrows his thick eyebrows in your direction. There it was, the constant reminder that you, the eldest heir, were not to inherit the throne, which should rightfully be yours, all because your parents favored your younger brother.

However, who would dare question the king? When he makes an order, it is carried out, and what he demands is brought to fruition. So if he says your sibling shall inherit the throne, he will, and when he finally gets fed up with your high standards and simply makes you marry someone of his choosing, you will have to obey. Such is the life of a princess.

With a heavy heart, you bow to your father, asking to be excused. He sighs and waves his hand, allowing you to leave, to which you immediately turn on your heel and pace quickly toward your chambers.

When Scaramouche's crew docked at the pier, they knew the welcome they would be given wasn't going to be a warm one. It never was, wherever they stopped. It was no secret that wherever this ship docked, well-known valuables would soon go missing and trouble would follow, yet no one could prove it was them.

Still, seeing every guard on patrol look at them with a noticeable glare and watch their every move was more than unnerving. All Scaramouche was doing was going for a stroll, after all.

But, so were his crewmates, Kazuha and Heizou, in separate parts of the city. And it's not their fault if they happen to notice which areas are more guarded than others, when the guards switch shifts, or which buildings have the least amount of foot traffic coming in and out of them. It's all coincidental, of course, not on purpose at all.

It's definitely not intentional when Heizou reports that the only guards that step into the tavern are always there to get so drunk after their shift that they won't remember what they say.

And who's to shame Scaramouche if he wants to step in and have a drink or two, and happens to run into a guard who's slurring his words and would have fallen over if he ever tried to stand up in this state?

"And that princess…god! She's so stuck up.." the guard ranted, taking another swig from his pint. Scaramouche listened with faux sympathy to the drunken man in front of him, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take from this man. He too often leaned too close as if whispering a secret, the stench of sweat, metal, and cheap booze radiating off of him. 

"That princess! She keeps rejecting every suitor who's interested in her! Do you know who has to deal with the king's fury after she does this? Us!"

He leans in once more, and Scaramouche gets a whiff of his rancid breath  "I hear….the king wants her married off to someone wealthy because he's in debt…but she just wants the throne instead! Can you believe it? Too stuck up to let her brother be the heir to the kingdom…."

It seemed all this guard was going to reveal was pointless rants about the king’s only daughter, and today he was not going to get any information that would be helpful to him. After all, if this princess was to be married off, it’s unlikely she would be able to get hold of the crown that was to be used in the coronation ceremony when the prince came of age.

Like an answer from the heavens, his doubts were quickly proven incorrect when the guard’s voice drops to a whisper, and he leans across the table to speak in Scaramouche’s ear.

“I hear…that she got so jealous, she stole the crown. The king says it just got lost, however, we guards know the truth. But what grounds could we present that would warrant a search through the princess’s private quarters? It’s useless…”

And just like that, Scaramouche knew whom he should target. 

The captain stands from their booth in the corner, excusing himself. He buys the guard another drink as thanks for the “lovely conversation” and to ensure he really wouldn’t remember the information he spilled.

The next few nights, Scaramouche and other members of his crew alternate between taverns to gather as much information as possible. Each night, a different person hit a different establishment to not raise suspicion. This heist was going to be big, and after it was pulled off they wouldn’t be able to dock for months to avoid being caught and interrogated.

Stealing the crown from the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world was no easy task, but it had been Scaramouche’s dream ever since he started his life of piracy. Something like this would earn them respect like no other on the seven seas but also put a huge target on their back. His crew was prepared, of course, they wouldn’t have docked here if they weren’t. It’s not like they couldn’t fight, either. They were notorious for many reasons: their crimes that left no evidence behind, the sheer intimidation their crew gave off, and the fact that no crew member lost any duel they were challenged to.

After a couple weeks of solely gathering information, Scaramouche’s crew was ready to take things to the next level. They learned that the princess was unable to leave the castle without supervision, which only occurred on rare occasions. She lived a secluded life and many of the kingdom’s citizens didn’t even know her face. His first mate, Kazuha, who was always good with his words, even managed to get one of the guards to reveal which terrace on the castle belonged to the princess’s room and that the staff had recently increased security in the city and outside the castle because of a suspicious ship that had docked at the pier, which lessened the amount of military inside the building.

Kazuha was always better with people than any other crew member, and Scaramouche was forever thankful he was a part of his crew, even if he didn’t show it.

However, it seemed no one was able to learn that the princess provided enough security for herself, not even needing guards.

Scaramouche quickly learned that when he was finally ready to attempt to get inside the castle, scaling the walls during a shift change and approaching the terrace he was informed about prior.

A candle on your bedside and the illumination from the moon were the only sources of light in your quarters at this time of night. Every other member of the royal family was asleep, but not you. Far too frequently would you stay up reading a novel you “borrowed” from the castle’s library, even though books weren’t supposed to leave the area. 

All was silent except for the wind blowing outside and the rare footsteps in the hall, metal clashing with each step from the guards’ armor.

Though silent, and easy to miss, a sound from outside your window caught your attention. 

Breathing, silent steps getting closer, the scraping of someone climbing the walls and terrace.

You turned, blowing out your candle so that whoever was coming wouldn’t know you were awake. With the time it took for them to reach the glass door that separates your room from the balcony, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and you had your sword out from underneath your bed, drawn and ready to be used.

The door cracked open, slowly, and it was obvious that whoever was there was trying to use the element of surprise. They must not know you, considering they thought you wouldn’t discover them. One hand pushes the door open all the way, then pulls the person inside. It was a man with indigo hair and eyes. Everything he wore was black - his boots, high-waisted pants, and tricorn hat, - besides his shirt, which was a white poet shirt with purple and black accents tucked into his pants. Adorned on his hat were feathers that spewed from the back and gems which were sewn on, each one catching the light from the moon. He was obviously a pirate, and based on the whispers from the staff in the castle, he was probably from the ship that docked recently and made everyone nervous. The captain of the guards had even told you to report anything suspicious you happened to see, which told you they were no joke, Normally, if there was a threat, you wouldn’t even be informed. 'No one wanted to worry the princess, of course' is what they would say, but you know they just think you can't handle it.

Before he even has time to process you're there, you point your sword at his throat, the tip pressing against his flesh, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough so that he knows he made a mistake.

The pirate stares down at the sword at his neck, his gaze following the blade to its holder; the very princess he intended to come in here and threaten. It's a funny thing how easily the tables can be turned. He eyes the princess warily, one eyebrow raised and an awkward smile on his face, knowing he's been caught so easily.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" He chuckles to himself, raising his hands up beside his head in a phony sign of surrender, but your sword never wavers.

"What do you think you are doing here?"  You demanded, sword to the pirate's throat. The captain remained silent, weighing his options. He could try to talk his way out of this or use his cunning tactics to somehow overpower the princess and make a break for it. Whatever decision he made, it could mean the difference between life and death.

"Sure, as soon as you put that sword down. I'd rather have a conversation than an encounter between your blade and my jugular if you don't mind," he reasons, staring right back into your eyes with a look that screams mischief. Still, you sigh, and lower your sword, taking a step back and never loosening your grip on its handle. 

"Speak." 

He chuckles, lowering his hands and letting a cocky smile spread across his face.

"You see, princess, there's a rumor going around that you've stolen and hidden the coronation crown. I'm here to simply…take it off your hands," he explains. Everything about him seems sly, and even though it seems he's at a disadvantage, he's acting like he has the upper hand. There's not an ounce of fear on his face.

Your hold on your sword is steady, ready for combat at any moment, and it seems he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do so. I can, however, offer you a deal. Leave now and I won't report your attempt to rob the royal castle and have you thrown in prison."

The pirate shrugs and sighs, his hand reaching for the sword that hung from his belt. 

"Oh well, looks like there's no other way."

And with that, he draws his sword from its scabbard, a sleek, steel sword with a curved blade,  and lunges forward, dealing the first strike. Blades clash and the sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the room as you parry his sword, pushing him back further. He doesn't let up, dealing strike after strike, yet landing no hits nonetheless. 

While the pirate’s blows are strong and aggressive, his attacks powerful and relentless, yours are both quick and agile with fast and precise strikes.

He expected the princess to be less of a hassle, yet here you were, not only putting up a good fight but winning too. Similar to him, there wasn't even a hint of sweat dripping from your brow, no signs of exhaustion as you dueled him in just your nightgown and slippers.

Your sword comes down once more towards his chest, and he raises his own to block it when suddenly you change your direction and aim to land a hit on his arm instead.

Ever quick on his feet, the pirate steps out of the way, dodging an almost fatal attack, but not before your blade can tear through his shirt and leave the faintest wound on the flesh of his shoulder.

He hisses as he feels the sting of his skin splitting, looking down as red stains the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not bad," he mumbles, his eyes sharp as he glares at the princess, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "Haven't struggled this much with an opponent in a while."

"Likewise," you muse, tightening your grip on your handle as you raise your eyebrows, almost taunting him.

"Tell me, pirate, what is your name? I want to know what to call my attacker before I slice your throat." 

He chuckles, rolling his wounded shoulder back and getting into a better position to keep fighting.

"Oh, I don't believe you really could. Wouldn't want to get your pretty hands dirty after all." He, once again, swings his sword, but to no avail. You continue trading blows with him, barely giving each other a chance to breathe. No matter what he tries, he can't seem to get the upper hand. Mentally, he wants to blame it on the fact that he was caught off guard, or that the way the silk of her nightgown hugs her body when she twists and turns to use her sword is distracting, but really he knows he's just finally met a well-matched opponent. 

"But the name's Scaramouche, consider this knowledge a gift before I beat you at the game of swords.”

It was then that the sound of armored footsteps approaching rapidly caught both Scaramouche and the princess’s attention. You bite back a laugh, glancing at the door and then back to the pirate in front of you.

“Looks like that will have to wait, Scaramouche.”

His name spilled from your lips easier than you’d like to admit, sounding almost natural when it came from you. Scaramouche noticed this too, stiffening as you say it and running his tongue along his cheek. It was annoying whenever he found himself having to make an enemy of an attractive woman. He takes one last look at the princess, before stepping away towards the glass door he came in through. He keeps his sword pointed at you as he backs away, not taking any chances.

“This was lovely, princess. I’ll be seeing you again very soon, but for now, I bid you adieu,” He takes his hat off, bending his arm at his waist and bowing overdramatically before opening the door and launching himself over the fence of the terrace, disappearing into the night.

As the footsteps get closer, you kick your sword under the bed, praying it wasn’t damaged, and toss yourself onto your mattress, throwing the covers over your body just in time for the door to swing open. A few guards peer inside, seeing nothing but you sleeping soundly in, your back turned to them as your body rises and falls to the rhythm of your breathing. There was no sign a fight had even occurred, despite the noises that multiple knights had heard coming from here.

As they close the door, the sound of their footsteps moving away from your room, a giddy smile creeps onto your face. After all, if no fight happened in their eyes, there would be no reason to increase security and you could see that intriguing pirate again.

After Scaramouche escapes down the castle walls, he books it for the treeline that separated the castle from the ocean. It was just past there that his ship resided, where his crew was eagerly awaiting his return with good news. A sinking feeling resides over him whilst he runs through the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves with every step. There is no reasoning he could possibly give that would excuse his failure. Not when he knows it’s caused by his own faults as a man. He, just like all of her numerous suitors and admirers, simply got distracted by her appearance. At some point, he had to stop as his head became too muddled by his thoughts, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his thoughts.

Before, when hearing about rumors of the princess and all of the men interested in marrying her, he assumed the stories all came with a tinge of exaggeration.

Yet, after seeing her and fighting with her, he knows each metaphor and story told of her had to have been nothing but the truth. Tales of her beauty were honestly an understatement. It’s not often he finds himself this distracted by a woman, especially a princess, and he can’t help but feel ashamed in a way. He just failed to execute the plan his crew had been working on for years prior to docking it this kingdom, but all he can think about is her smile when she taunted him, her confidence because she knew she could fight, or the way her nightgown revealed the shape of her body, expensive silk clinging to every curve of her flesh. She was a princess rarely even seen by the public, but he got to see her in such a private setting, and god was it worth it.

He starts running again, her face in mind doubts infecting his every thought. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, and his lungs burn with each breath, but he doesn’t stop running. He would much rather face his crew than the entire royal army. He was sure the princess had reported what had happened by now, and he didn’t want to stick around so they could remember his face.

As he runs, he starts to feel the ocean breeze brushing along his face, and it reminds him that he’s almost home. His crew is smart; they’ll be able to come up with a new plan together. Maybe next time they’ll send a different member of the crew. 

As soon as the thought of someone else seeing her like that enters his mind, he quickly shoos it away. 

Just for now, he’d like to keep the image of her to himself.

taglist: @danfelions @bleachisfood @klanxii @nillajhayne @call-me-nayo @pinkiepiescanonn @etherisy @kazuuhhaaaa @featuredtofu @ulquiorraswife @skyoverkill1 @wandererskitten   @lxkeeeee

[foreverrogers]

Omg I just read your fics and I LOVE your writing!!! 💖 I don't know if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write a sub! virgin! tasm! peter x soft dom! reader, and the reader is more experienced than him,,, like let's say they're hanging out with a group of friends playing truth or drink, and she finds out peter is still a virgin?? so blah blah blah they talk and he feels pretty embarassed but she helps him calm down and stuff so she tells him she could help him if he wants to, and he does want her to, so when they're finally doing it she keeps asking him questions like if he's Okay with what she's doing and making sure he's not uncomfortable? Also w a llloooottt of praise kink (peter receiving ofc cus hes a subby baby.) Also if you don't want to do it, no pressure. Sorry if this is too long!

kissing lessons

Pairing: virgin!tasm!peter parker x f!reader

Summary: finding out your best friend is a virgin during a game of truth or drink quickly turns into kissing lessons... and... a slightly spicier version of kissing lessons

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+!!!! NSFW!!! loss of virginity, protected sex, friends to lovers, peter and reader are hopeless at confessing their feelings, pretty loosely edited woops

Words: 3k

A/N: this was supposed to be a blurb and then i got too many ideas and got very carried away so uhhhhhh here she is I'm in love with this fic - thank you so much lovely anon for requesting!! love this idea and love that it feeds my favourite niche of virgin!peter. yet another title based off of a lucy dacus song lmao. hope you enjoy !!

request something! masterlist

It was a simple enough question.

Maybe not the fairest one, or the tamest, and definitely a little personal for two people who barely knew each other, but your roommate was definitely trying to hit on Peter, and this seemed to be her chosen method of flirtation.

How was your first time?

It's a simple enough question, and yet you watch Peter turn bright red in a split second, collapse inwards with the heat of a supernova as he hides behind his cup, tries to play it off with a smile and takes a long gulp of its contents.

You hear your roommate make a comment, something about him being no fun, about not having to be embarrassed, but you're the only person here who's known him for long enough to know his tells, and you recognise something different in the look in his eyes.

When everyone's a little more than tipsy, slumping over cold pizza and melting into couches, Peter quietly excuses himself. He's quickly grown more sober than your friends, super-human metabolism and all, and you watch him from your position on the floor as he slips behind your bedroom door.

You don't say anything when you move to follow him, know nobody would notice your shared absence anyway, and when you find him he's perching just beyond the window, legs dangling through the railing as he sits on your fire escape.

"Hey, want some company?"

Peter smiles when he sees you, a genuine smile, shuffles to the side a little to make more room for you to slip beside him. "Yours? Always."

There's a comfortable silence for a long moment, you slotted beside him, arms meeting in the familiar connection of bare skin against bare skin. "Sorry if it made you uncomfortable, earlier," You start, don't look at him, take in the beautiful view of your neighbour's drawn curtains and the dark alley below. "That stupid question... I think it was just a weird way of flirting with you."

Peter whips his head towards you at that, eyebrows pinched together in confusion, a smile playing at his lips. "You think your roommate has a crush on me?"

"Oh, I know she has a crush on you," You laugh, lean closer as he turns away again. You watch him for a moment, in the silence, trace the curve of his lips and the sharpness of his jaw with your eyes. "What, you don't think she's pretty?"

"Well, it's not that I- You know..." It takes him a moment to look at you, but when he finally does there's something in his eyes you can't quite read, something different, something tender. "I kinda have someone else in mind."

"Oh, yeah?" You smile, grinning now, sway a little so your arm bumps against his lightly. "Well, they would be lucky to have you, Parker."

He's still got the same look in his eyes, watches you so intently, so carefully, like you're some rarity that's suddenly appeared beside him. There's another beat of silence. "You think?"

Something's shifted, you think, charges the air between you with something you've never experienced before. All you do is nod in response, still smiling, watch him watching you and suddenly find yourself overcome with this sense of being seen. Seen in the rawest sense, the way a soul sees another kindred soul.

A car alarm sounds somewhere in the distance, echos off of the concrete and the glass of your neighbourhood, cutting through the dead of night. It draws both of your attention towards it for a moment, and, beside you, you can feel Peter tense a little, like he's ready to burst into action, always the knight in skin-tight spandex ready to save the day.

It only takes a few seconds for it to disappear, drops you back into the quiet of this moment between you. The silence is a little less comfortable. "Can I ask you a question you don't have to answer?"

You pull your legs up through the railing slowly, hug them against your chest, and when you turn to face him again Peter's still looking at you. He smiles. "Do I have to drink if I don't?"

"Mm-mm," You hum, shake your head softly with a grin he thinks must be bright enough to light up every patch of darkness in a ten-block radius.

"What'd'ya wanna know?"

You chew at the inside of your lip, smile falling a little as you consider the question. "Earlier... Did you drink because it was an embarrassing story, or because there was no story to tell?"

It's dark out, the space between you only dimly lit by whatever manages to filter through your open window, but even still you see the way his face flushes, a patchy bright red that climbs up the column of his throat and spreads across his cheeks. He dips his head, looks down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. "Was it that obvious?"

"It- Hey." You're not sure what possesses you to do it, but all of a sudden your hand is under his chin, tilting it up, brings his face back towards yours. The contact brings a shock of static electricity you try to ignore, don't move to pull away your hand. You shrug, shake your head with a reassuring smile. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I feel pretty embarrassed about it," He mutters, but he laughs at least, brings a lightness that draws the same response out of you.

You're smiling at him, watch his eyes flit down to the fingers still beneath his chin and finally pull away, reach up to brush a loose tuft of hair out of his face instead. "We could always bring back kissing lessons."

Peter laughs again, a more surprised one, comes out as a rush of warm air against your skin. "From middle school?"

"Yeah, from middle school. They were helpful!" You defend, smiling wide, shuffle to bump the toe of your shoe against his knee. "I was a really good kisser by the time Dylan Bradshaw finally asked me out."

"And then he broke up with you two weeks later."

"God, don't remind me," You mumble, roll your eyes playfully. "His loss."

When you both manage to stop laughing Peter gives you that look again, the one that's so clouded and unreadable it's starting to irritate you. It was your thing, after all these years, being able to read each other no matter what, saying things that didn't need to be said aloud. He bites his lip, which is a new addition, tugs at something in your chest you can't quite explain. "Kissing lessons 2.0?"

"Yeah, why not? It'll be practice... For when that girl you had in mind finally comes around."

Peter brings his hand up, brushes his thumb across your cheek as he moves to cup your face, slow enough that you have time to take it back, to flinch away and assure it had all been a joke. You don't pull away.

In the humour of it, you almost don't register what you're suggesting really means, what it means that you're both entertaining the idea, that you're both here agreeing to it, that you're both so quick to disregard the consequences.

You still don't completely understand it, not even when Peter's leaning in and his lips are on yours, warm and soft and just how you remembered.

Peter's kissing you, and you're kissing him, here on your fire escape in the middle of the night. For practice, of course.

It's still for practice, even as he deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth, smiles when he feels your fingers tangle into his hair.

"I see you remember some things," You mutter, whisper it between kisses and shared smiles.

"I guess they were pretty helpful."

Peter doesn't protest when your hand bunches into the front of his shirt, when you pull him back through the window and guide him towards your bed. And it's still, without a doubt, completely, totally, undeniably for practice.

Peter's sitting at the edge of your bed, looking up at you with those eyes and you know now. Know what was underneath that unreadable look on the fire escape. You can't ignore the way it makes you feel, the power it gives you.

"Scooch," You smile, wave your hands at him to move further back against the bed, momentarily break him out of the trance you've seemed to put him in.

Peter shuffles up the bed, stops when he feels the sturdy coolness of your headboard against his back. And then you're in his lap, knees on either side of his hips, pressed so close and yet not close enough, can't fathom you ever being close enough.

He leans in, tries to kiss you only for you to pull away at the last second, a light smirk on your lips. You lean just a little bit closer, lips hovering above his, almost brushing them, lets him breathe the same warm breath from your lungs. "Peter."

"Yeah?"

"Take your shirt off."

It hitches his breath, the request, waits for you to nod at him before he's grasping at the collar of his shirt and tugging.

He watches as your eyes roam down his chest, the smooth, defined muscle that carves the planes of his front, a sculpted wonder released from its marble. He thinks you might gulp, but he's too dizzy to think about it too hard.

"Good," You whisper, nod again, press a soft kiss to his lips in reward. "Now mine."

Peter definitely gulps, has to get past the rising lump in his throat before he can reach for the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms up to allow the motion, reveal the black bra you're wearing underneath, lacy edges pressed against your skin.

He runs his thumbs across that line, just because he wants to, and just because he can, feels the lace and the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he moves to hold your sides.

"We can stop whenever you want to, okay?"

"I don't want to stop," He breathes, and you can tell just how much he means it by the way he searches your eyes, the desperation in them, the devotion.

"Good," You repeat, and this time when you kiss him it's heavier, presses deeper, matches the pressure of your hips against the growing bulge in his jeans.

Every shift draws a brand new sound from the back of his throat, whines and groans and wordless pleas, the lexicon of Peter Parker, this beautiful boy that turned to putty in your hands the moment you touched him.

"I don't know what to do with my hands."

You laugh against him, savour a few more lazy kisses before you're slipping your hands over his. "Well... You can touch me here..."

You guide him down, hands splayed around the dip of your waist, press down to find a tighter grip, one that has you circling your hips and earning another shaky exhale.

"Or here..."

You urge him just a little lower, squeeze his hands over the flesh of your hips.

"Or here..."

You only take one hand this time, let the other rest firm and steadfast at your hip, guide his touch around the side of your neck, across your collarbone, around the base of your throat, slipping down and down until you're pushing aside one cup of your bra, letting him take a handful of your breast, feel the peak of your nipple against his palm. Peter gulps again.

"You can touch me anywhere you want."

And it's practice. Definitely still practice when his arms wrap around your middle to press you firmly against him, scoops you up without a word and shifts you onto your back, swallows up the gasp that melts into a giggle. It's practice when you unclasp your bra and keen into the feeling of his warm mouth down your sternum and around your nipple, when he learns what you sound like moaning his name and what your hand feels like wrapped around his cock.

Everything is hazy and dizzying and everything is on fucking fire. Peter's never felt this good in his life, so drunk on it he thinks he must go into autopilot, barely registers you telling him which drawer the condoms are in and his quick retrieval mission.

"You still wanna keep going?"

"Please," He mutters, almost whines it into your mouth, has to consciously stop himself from bucking into the slow stroke of your hand.

You withdraw your touch, suddenly, leaves him aching and needy, get to quick work on your jeans and your panties as he shuffles his own off.

Your eyes meet in the dim light, bare bodies and heavy breath and foggy thoughts, and at that moment the only reasonable option is to laugh into a messy kiss, all teeth and soft sighs.

Practice is your mantra of the night. It's what you keep telling yourself even as you stop believing it, when he's finally sinking into you and filling you up and everything clicks into place.

Peter feels like he was made for you, like he was poured into your body and moulded as your other half. You've never been so sure of anything in your entire life as you are in this moment.

"You okay, Pete?"

"Yeah," He whispers, head dipped into the crook of your neck, so close you can hear every tremor in his breath. "Yeah, you feel so fucking good, Y/n. Fuck."

You laugh a little, the sound reverberating through chests pressed flush together, slip your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him into a kiss. He still hasn't started moving, lets you feel every ridge of his cock inside you. Practice. "Take whatever you want, baby. I'm all yours."

You hear his breath hitch, comes at the same time as he starts to slowly drag his hips back, manages a few inches before he's pressing back in. "Say it again," He mutters, movements just that little bit faster, grasp at your thigh deliciously bruising.

"What? Want me to call you baby?" The snap of his hips is confirmation enough, sends a shock of pleasure up your spine so strong it makes you gasp. "Gotta say yes, baby. Talk to me."

"Yes," He groans, movements even faster now, face twisting beautifully with the gape of his mouth and the darkness of his eyes. You think you could write poetry about that crease between his eyebrow, think it could stop the rotation of planets, make whole civilisations crumble. "Please, fuck, yes."

"Didn't need the practice at all, did you, baby? Fucking me so good already. Feels so perfect, Pete."

Peter finds it quickly, the pace you need to make you tremble in his hands, makes you pulse around him until he forgets ever not feeling like this. It consumes him whole, the heat and the sounds and your voice in his ear, starts to build and build and build the tension in the pit of his stomach faster than he's willing to let go. "Y/n-"

"I know, baby. C'mere, give me your hand."

His palm is slick with sweat when he pulls it away from your thigh, watches you guide him between your legs and press his thumb firmly against your clit.

And he's nothing if not bright, your boy, doesn't need much more of a hint to start making tight circles over the sensitive bud, makes you gasp into his mouth when he finally comes back up to kiss you.

"So close," He whines, desperate and high pitched and beautiful, open mouth hot against yours.

"That's it, want you to cum for me, baby. Just need a little more, 'm right behind you."

It doesn't take much more, makes sure to quicken the pressure of his thumb against your clit while he can still think, only needs a few more sharp, stuttered movements of his hips before he's pressing as deep inside you as he can, spills hot and full as he groans your name into the crook of your neck.

And that feeling, that pulsing twitch inside you, the idea that it was you making him feel that good, is suddenly too much all at once, washes over you like being drowned in molten honey.

All you can hear is heavy breath and pounding heartbeats for a long moment, feel the sync of the rhythm as Peter collapses against you, slowly starts to kiss along your collarbone, warm at the base of your throat.

You smile when your eyes finally meet again, grins melting into a soft kiss.

"You good?" You whisper, feel him slip his hand between you to slowly pull out.

He nods lightly, feels you sigh against him when you're finally empty again.

Peter pulls you with him when he rolls onto his back, slips you both under the covers, watches as you make yourself comfortable against his chest.

"How was my lesson?"

"Perfect," He starts, matches the grin that spreads across your face. "I think I might need a couple more if there's gonna be an exam, though."

request something! masterlist

[clairecrive]

Billy idea that I have no time to write myself loool: reader and Billy are friends with benefits. Reader is happy with the arrangement and knows Billy is sleeping with other women but she doesn't care. It's not serious with them. Billy however hadn't really thought about Reader sleeping with other people and he finds out. Maybe from friends (Frank, Curtis and Karen because hello AU) or maybe all of them are out at a bar and he sees her go home with someone else? But he gets suuuuper jealous about it and realises he wants more. I'll leave it up to you if Reader wants more too. Angsty jealous Billy though, am I right? Lmaooo (this is faulty-coding btw, hello 🖤)

"Commitment"

A/N: omg hi! I love your work so much I feel incredibly honoured that you chose me for this request! I hope you like it x This is also for this anon, I've combined the two requests since they were similar.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, slut-shaming, hurt-comfort, smut at the end

Word count: 3K +

Tags:@blackst0nes7077, @thefictionalgemini, @tarkanelima-blog

@pansysgirlfriend, @acciorudolphx @supernaturalcat7, @crazyclownchick (I don't know why it won't let me tag you)

To add yourself to my taglist, fill in this form.

NAVIGATION PAGE

"Hey, stranger." A familiar voice and then his familiar touch on your back before he sat in front of you.

"Hi, Billy."

"it's been a while," he mentioned casually while his eyes took you in.

It had been more than a while, actually. Last time you saw Billy had been over a week ago. Well, you hadn't really seen him, that was the problem.

Ever since you had started your "agreement" you'd drop by his office from time to time to surprise him. He had told you that he deeply enjoyed office sex while you had never had it. Needless to say, it soon became one of your favourite things.

And that was why that day, you were at Anvil. You hadn't told Billy that you were coming. It wouldn't have been a surprise then, would it? However, when you stepped in front of his door, just one touch away from opening it, you heard it.

Well, heard her actually.

It was Billy that ended up surprising you that day. You usually loved surprises but that one you would have gladly skipped.

Although it had taken you most of a week to come to this realisation, you realized that it was actually a good thing to happen. The thing you had with Billy wasn't labelled. It was fun but it wasn't serious. Despite the fact that you were friends and hang out with the same group, you had never committed to each other.

And you were honestly fine with it. You enjoyed your time with Billy, outside and under the sheets.

It had been months though and you hadn't wanted to acknowledge it but it wasn't enough anymore. Billy's role in your life was ambiguous. He was your friend sure, but one you'd have sex with. He wasn't your boyfriend but he was the one you'd spend the most of your time with, the one with whom you were intimate.

You wanted more, you realized. Enough with these half measures.

Billy will understand, you told yourself. He inwardly made it clear where he stands. Time to broaden your horizons.

And, as matter of fact, you had. It was true that the ocean is full of fish but you hadn't had a lot of luck with them before. Sure, Jake was nice. He was polite and nice. An overall good guy.

He was just lacking a... je ne sais quoi that made you unsure about it. But you were willing to give him a chance and so you kept going on dates with him.

Needless to say, you hadn't spoken to Billy since that impromptu visit to his office.

"Been busy," you offered him taking a sip of your beer. It was a lame excuse but you couldn't care less. Karen offered you some appetizers. You stared at them for a bit before shaking your head refusing them. Ignoring Karen's questioning look, you took another sip.

"Yeah, she's been busy alright." Frank's low chuckle came from the other end of the table.

"Meaning?" Billy asked, now curious about the implication seeing how your cheeks had suddenly turned red.

"She met someone," Karen chirped in, winking in your direction.

Mentally facepalming you, you swore them off. It wasn't the way you wanted Billy to find out. Not that you cared what he thought since he couldn't be bothered to be as transparent with you, but still. You hated being put on the spot.

"Has she now?" Billy's eyebrow arched and he gave you an amused look. But his jaw clenched and that gave him away.

"Not that it's any of your business. But yes, I have. His name's Jake, he's a nice guy." You explained briefly, ignoring the intensity of his stare.

"So you're that kind of person then." Leaning over the table, his voice took an edge he had never directed at you. "Ditching her friends as soon as she meets a guy?"

"You know that's not true." Narrowing your eyes at him you were almost offended by his institution if it wasn't for the fact that you knew that it was his bruised ego speaking.

"Tell that to my many unanswered calls on your phone."

"That's not on Jake," you scoffed taking a sip. His eyebrow arched while his hands gestured to you as if to say "do tell".

"Let's just say that I saw firsthand just how busy you keep yourself when I'm not around." You tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, you really did. But without success.

Billy's lips pursed in thought. You had no doubt that he had an inkling about what you meant but he couldn't figure out to what exactly you were referring to.

"So is this what it is? You being petty because I've been with someone else?"

"That's me wanting more for myself and taking it."

"If you were that insatiable, y/n, you should have just told me."

"Stop making me sound like a slut, Billy. That is not what this is about."

"Isn't it? Because that's exactly what this looks like to me."

Pursing your lips, you refused to show him just how much he had hurt you. Nodding your head you decided that you'd had enough. You did not have to sit here and take his bullshit.

"You know, Billy. Slut-shaming isn't a good look on you." Waving to your friends, you quickly told them that you had to go. An emergency you said. But they knew better, their eyes fixed on Billy as he watched you walk out of the bar. Hands tightening around the bottle of beer he had ordered, he stood up once you disappeared amongst the crowd.

Without bothering to explain himself to the group, he simply followed you outside.

"Y/n." He called your name once he saw that you were already a bit far from the bar. In a couple of quick strides, Billy had gotten to you since you had slowed down.

"Go away, Billy." you didn't bother to look at him.

"Wait, wait," he said gently taking hold of your arm to get you to stop. And you did but stared at his hand on you until he dropped it and took a step back. "Look I'm sorry, I was an asshole." he apologised.

You only nodded to show him that you understood him but didn't offer any words to assure him that you forgave him.

"And I'm sorry you had to find out about Madani that way." He added hoping to make things right between you.

"Don't worry, it was actually an awakening for me." You added briefly looking at him. Tone harsh and unapologetic. You were still too mad at him to care about being considerate of your voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it made me realize that this," you gestured between the two of you, "was not working out for me."

"Oh really?" now the word had lost every tint of disbelief it had before. It was more like he was challenging you. Like he didn't quite believe you.

"Yes." you stood your ground pushing your shoulders back, "I figured out that I want more. And I know that I'm not going to get that from you."

"It was good while it lasted though," you called over your shoulders as you turned, ready to get the hell away from him. But the words he said though, made you halt on your feet.

"Who said you're not going to get that with me?"

"That would require feeling something for me other than lust, Billy." you snicked not fully turning around to face him, just your head.

"Who says I don't?"

"Madani, maybe?"

"She doesn't mean anything, y/n." He scoffed rolling his eyes.

"Of course you'd say something like this, Billy. Doesn't help though." As if him admitting to having meaningless sex with other women could help his case. Men. Fully done with this conversation you gave him one last look before turning away again.

"I know why you didn't eat those appetizers before." Again, after a few steps, his voice made you stop. This time, the implication of what he meant, sat heavily on your shoulders making you tense. Still, you didn't turn around.

That didn't deter him though.

"I know that you love them but they remind you of your grandfather. He used to make sure there would always be some of those at home whenever you went to visit him. And I know you haven't eaten them since-"

He stopped when your head whipping to him, eyes glaring.

He was right. You knew it, he knew it. But him strumentalising your beloved grandfather's death to get through to you? That was low, even for Billy.

Not only it called for you to acknowledge out loud that your grandfather wasn't there anymore but it also surprised you because you didn't think anyone would notice something so small.

"What are you saying, Billy?" Eyes glossy, like everything someone mentioned him, you tried your best to not let your voice waver.

"What I'm saying is that I care about you, y/n. I care enough to notice things. The tiniest details that you don't even know are there. Like that every time you're reading and something bad happens, you press your hand on your chest over your heart, as if you wanted to stop the pain from coming or something. Or that you always cook whenever you miss your family even if you never say it out loud. Or-"

"I get it Billy." you raised a hand to stop him. "You're observant. I knew that. That's basically what you do for a living. Not counting that you're a fucking sniper."

"Maybe," he conceded slowly taking a step in your direction, "I notice things, that's true. That doesn't mean that I store them in my mind, though."

"I care about you, y/n. A great deal. Enough to notice all the little things that make you you and enough to memorize them."

"I don't know if I can believe you, Billy. If you cared you wouldn't be going around sleeping with other women. And I know-" you added when you saw his mouth open to protest- " I know that technically we weren't together but still Billy. A technicality is not going to earn you my trust." Shrugging your shoulders you opted for being honest with him. You had never lied to him and you certainly weren't going to start now. Billy had never lied to you either, not that you were aware. And even if this thought should have reassured you, you were still hesitant about believing him.

"Then give me a chance to do so. Let me prove to you just how much I care about you and how little I care about everything else." He insisted, taking another step and then another until he was in front of you. Hands on your jaw, he delicately craned your neck so that your eyes could meet.

The height difference had always been a reason for jokes among you. It was no secret that Billy had a slight size kink, at least not to you, and so more often than not he'd use that.

Thumb slowly caressing your jaw, his eyes flickered between yours. They were full of hope, of promises but there was also a lot of vulnerability. Billy was not the type to be so forthcoming about his feelings. The fact that he had been with you, on a side street nonetheless, was a demonstration on its own.

Sighing, you knew you needed to decide. Yes, hearing Billy having sex with another woman had hurt you but you were not together. While that didn't make it hurt any less, it made the situation slightly less grave. He hadn't cheated on you, not really. You hadn't told him you wanted more. Hell, before that you didn't even know that you wanted more.

And now that you knew, now that he knew as well, here he was promising it to you. He wanted to give you exactly what you wanted. So could you really say no to him?

Of course not.

"Alright."

"Yeah?" a big smile grew on his face, his eyes twinkling in joy.

"Yeah, I'm going to give you a chance. Only one, Billy. So you better not mess this up." Poking his chest with a finger you warned him that this time around, things were going to be different.

"You're not going to regret that, babe." His eyes held a solemn promise. Just briefly though because soon, they were back to their usual mischief. Billy leaned to you, his lips meeting yours in a small kiss.

At first.

He kissed you soundly, his mouth perfectly on yours, building his tempo slowly. Then, you felt his tongue on your lower lip and you knew that things were about to escalate quickly.

Not that you minded of course, but it was not appropriate to do what you had in mind in the middle of the street.

"Billy," you moaned slightly leaning back to warn him that you couldn't get too carried away.

"Call that Jim guy," his mouth peppered small kisses along your jaw, "tell him that it's over. That he never stood a chance," he moved down on your neck.

"Yes."

"Let's go home so that I can show you how much more I can give you."His mouth had trailed back up and stopped so that it was hovering over your ear. His voice was low and breathy and husky and fuck it sent a wave of pleasure right in between your legs.

------

No sooner had you stepped over your threshold than Billy's hands were on you. The door barely closed, he pushed you against it. His hands cradled your face, effectively keeping you holding you in place while his mouth ravished you.

You gladly let him do as he pleased. Mouth opening to welcome his tongue while your hands gripped his jacket to keep you steady.

"Billy," you whimpered his name as his lips left yours. You tried to follow them by getting on your tiptoes but he didn't let you. Chuckling, he gave you another small kiss.

"Yes. Remember that it's me that it's making you feel this good. Me. Not Jim or whatever his name is, not anyone else. Me." He growled on your lips while one of his hands gripped the hair at the nape of your neck making you gasp.

Staring at his glowing dark pits you couldn't do anything other than nodding feverishly. You were at his mercy. Completely. And Billy knew that and it did nothing but please him to no end.

You'd always enjoyed whenever Billy was rough with you but him being jealous and kinda possessive too? Game changer.

Smirking at your reaction, his hands moved lower on your body until they hatched behind your knees pulling you up. Biting your lower lip, he swallowed your whimper for the friction once you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Billy didn't waste any more time, in quick long strides he was in your bedroom and threw you on the bed. You'd almost giggled when you bounced on it if it wasn't for the savage look in Billy's eyes.

Fuck, he looked so sexy. A sin.

For a moment, he just stared at you laid there waiting for him. A hand quickly wiped his face before he unbuckled his pants. Now it was your turn to stare at him. More like ogle but you knew he didn't mind.

Shedding his pants, he crawled over you until his face levelled yours.

"I'm going to give you exactly what you want. And then some more." He promised, nipping your earlobe. "You're never going to feel the need to look for other guys."

"There's no one else I'd rather be with, Billy."

Your hands trailed over his still clothed back before tangling his always perfectly styled hair. "Only you." You whispered in his ear.

If it wasn't for your hand on his back, you would have missed him tensing. "Say it again," he demanded, his head still in the crook of your neck.

"You're the only one I want, Billy." You repeated knowing fully well how he struggled with accepting love and affection. This meant to him just as much as it did to you. He was giving you the promise of commitment but so were you. And despite the fact that you had already been loyal to him, you knew how important it was for him to hear the words.

"There's no one else for me either, y/n. Never was, never will be." He raised his head to say this. It was a confirmation, yes, but it also felt so much more coming from him.

He had been telling you how much he cared about you since you left the bar but somehow, him saying it again now held more meaning.

"You promise?"

You felt childish and it was probably pathetic of you to ask him again. But this was you being vulnerable, letting him know that you needed him. And you trusted Billy.

"You're mine." He said instead. One of his hands coming to cradle the back of your head while the other closed around your right breast.

"And I'm yours."

And here it was, the promise, the reassurance you needed. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss. It was wet and more teeth and tongue than anything but it was passionate. You were claiming each other.

Not separating your lips, he used his hands to get rid of your clothes. While he unbuckled your pants, you took his shirt off. Him doing the same with yours while you pushed his brief down on his legs.

Once you were completely naked, Billy crawled back over you. His hands resting at the sides of your head. He was everywhere. You could feel him between your legs, your arms wrapped around his back, your vision field occupied by his beautiful face.

He was everywhere, he was everything.

"And now, I'm going to leave no room for doubt in your mind anymore." He whispered on your lips, his cock rubbing over your slit teasing you about what was to come.

You had asked him for a commitment and fuck if he didn't commit to it. All night long.

[anotheranimestan]

hi! I just read “all bark no bite” and omg it was so good!! looking forward to more of your writing and possible a part 2 if you get the chance!

Thank you!!!!!😃🧡 Your wish is my command!

All Bark No Bite (pt. 2)

Bakugo angst + sexual tensionnnn

Read part 1 here

wc: 3k

I hope this is as fun for you to read as it is for me to write! Also why is he 👇 this fineee for no reason.

The next morning, you woke up trying to convince yourself it was all a dream...or a nightmare. But the way you could still feel the softness of his fingers around your neck completely contradicted your wishes. You also had to keep wiping little smiles off your face throughout your entire morning routine. You tried to combat them by listing all the things you hated about Bakugo but it was helpless. Every train of thought ended with the shape of his lips and how nicely they molded with yours.

You and Mina walked to class together and you swore she’d developed a mind reading quirk. You felt her eyes on you like a blazing sun. Although this was really all in your head. She only asked “are you okay?” because you kept looking at her like you’d committed a hate crime.

You and Bakugo didn’t look at each other once during class. No leg shaking, pen stealing or insults. Not even a well timed scoff when you were called on to answer a question. You tried your best to clear your mind and forget everything that had occurred in that hall last night. After a while of this torture you even were having a little bit of success.

But of course your peace was ruined as you walked to lunch. He couldn’t let you have anything. And of course he wasn’t going to leave you alone.

“Hey Little Bite, I hear we get to pick our groups for combat training today. All Might is going to make me a team captain, obviously. So if you want to be on my team let me know. I mean I assume you don’t wanna lose. You just gotta ask me nicely.” His usual cocky tone crept under your skin.

You desperately tried to ignore him as he followed you. Each footstep he started gaining on you being more annoying than the last. But what really did it was the pencil he threw at your head.

“Please, actively do not pick me.”

He ignored your objection and continued on his line of bullshit.

“I suppose I could take you. Your quirk would be useless, I’m all the attack power we’d need to win but I could use you as a decoy or something.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to be on a team with you, moron. Your pea brain doesn’t know how to do anything but blow shit up. You’re like an explosive cave man. Besides being too close to you for too long makes me wanna vomit.”

He cackled. You knew exactly what he was thinking and immediately regretted your words.

“That’s weird—“

You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at his head. But he just caught it and made it explode with a smug look on his face.

“Ugh. I cannot stand you.” You groaned.

“You sure about that?” He said with a suggestive eyebrow.

He was so hot....it made you want to punch him in the throat. Without thinking you shrugged off your backpack and swung it at his face. His reflexes bested you again though and he caught the bag, yanking it from you. The force was harder than you expected, it sent you flying into his chest. You both tumbled to the ground and landed shoulder to shoulder. Your skull hit a small rock with a wack. Rubbing the back of your head, shooting pain surfaced.

“Ow!! That fucking hurt dumbass!”

“Sor—“

You swung your arm, aiming to kill, and hit him in the stomach.

It must have really knocked the wind out of him because he made a loud grunting noise that hinted at his surprise. It wasn’t often people got to land a punch on Katsuki Bakugo. King Explosion Murder.

“Do that shit again Little Bite! You’ll regret it!” He grabbed your wrist, attempting to clear a way to get you back. You both started wresting trying to punch each other in the gut. Literally rolling around in the grass in a red hot death match of who could out curse the other.

“Omg, are you guys about to kiss right now?” Mina teased from out of absolutely nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.

You both froze solid as the blood drained from your face. She knew about last night? How did she find out?!

“You told her!?” Bakugo’s entire face was contorting through a whole range of emotions. Shock, horror, embarrassment, accusation, cheekiness, embarrassment again.

“What!?” You panicked. “No! I didn’t!” You swear you didn’t. You replayed your whole morning in your head just to double check.

You turned to your pink friend. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. You watched the gears turn in her head as she realized she’d stumbled upon a miraculously juicy discovery.

“OH. MY. GOD!!! No freaking way!!” She squealed unable to contain herself.

She started blabbering as she attempted to cope with this information. She had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

Your stomach fell as you realized this fatal error. Wait....this wasn’t your error. You pushed him off you and you both scrambled to your feet.

“This is your fault! Why’d you say that!” You shoved a finger in Bakugo’s chest. Which actually hurt because....he’s solid.

“Don’t yell at me!” He yelled back at an even louder volume.

Mina started running around in little circles. “They kissed!!!” She then abruptly stopped in her tracks and you watched a lightbulb flicker on.

No.....

“KIRISHIMA!!!! KAMINARI!!!” She screamed as she ran toward the cafeteria.

“MINA DONT YOU FUCKING DA—“ Bakugo exploded into a full sprint to chase her down. But she was like a rocket.

You chased after them desperately trying to reconcile all this is your mind. But it was no use, your brain was melting. Everyone was about to find out. The relentless jokes...they would never end. You could die right here.

Both of them ran so fast you fell horribly behind. By the time you rounded the corner and caught up to them a whole event had already taken place.

Bakugo was screaming on the top of his lungs. You could practically see the steam coming off the top of his head.

Kaminari was standing there in his stupid form with a half torn shirt. Jesus, what did Bakugo do to him?

Mina and Kirishima were laying on the ground, their face covered in tears. They were laughing so hard no sounds were even coming out.

“Oh my god,” Mina squeaked out between gasps for air, “Bakugo has a crush.”

“It’s so adorable!” Kirishima said wiping the tears from his eyes as he attempted to stop laughing. With no success, they both bursted again after seeing Bakugo slamming his fists into the grass. The teasing was making him want to rip his eyes out. He couldn’t stand it.

“Shut up Kirishima!!!” He jumped on top of his friend and started repeatedly banging his head into the ground. Of course this did absolutely nothing to the hard head. It just made him laugh even more.

Poor Denki just stood there drooling with a little smile on his face and giggling.

You were frozen. Stunned. It was like watching a comedy movie in which you were the punchline.

But all the laughs fell a silent as a furious voice cut through the air.

“What is this.” It wasn’t a question. Mr. Aizawa looked like he hadn’t slept in three days and this used up his last bit of patience.

“Bakugo. Get off him immediately.” He growled.

You knew how this looked. Bakugo was attacking Kirishima after successfully making Kaminari fry his own brain. Your friends’ laughter wasn’t enough to hide Bakugo’s apparent violence even if it was over something as stupid as a kiss. Mr. Aizawa couldn’t possibly know that.

“I overlooked your behavior yesterday, picking a fight with Miss. y/n. But now attacking your other classmates as well? This is violent behavior is unacceptable.”

“Mr. Aizawa—“ Kirishima tried to defend his friend but it was no use.

“Not another word.” Your teacher was glaring at Bakugo with laser beams.

The hot head just stood there in silence with a scowl on his face and two tightly clenched fists. He was really just going to take the heat for everyone? No arguments?

“I’m putting you on house arrest for the rest of the day. No more classes and no combat training.” You watched the dagger go through Bakugo’s chest. Today was going to be offensive training with All Might. You knew he was looking forward to it. Guilt punched your core.

“Mr. Aizawa wait. I’m the one who picked a fight with him yesterday. I challenged him. He shouldn’t get into trouble because of me.” You shuffled toward him timidly. He was scary when he was like this.

Everyone looked at you in surprise. They all knew it was true, that you’d egged him on. And he wouldn’t be raging right now if you hadn’t kissed, so today was also partially your fault. But they were truly surprised because you normally would revel in Bakugo getting scolded. But you weren’t fucking evil. And this wasn’t Bakugo’s fault at all...although he really needed to get his fucking temper in check. Idiot.

“Is that true?” Aizawa asked Bakugo.

The hot head took a deep breath. “Does that sound like me at all? I’d never give into her weak attempts at baiting me. I fought her because I wanted to.”

Your eyes popped out at his words. He lied. Why the fuck would he do that?

Mr. Aizawa escorted Bakugo to the dorms, lecturing the entire way.

“This sucks.” Kirishima said with a frown.

“I know. I feel so bad!” Mina cried sadly.

You had no words. The four of you walked to lunch with drooping heads. You held Kaminari’s hand the whole way until his brain recharged.

Recalling you’d left your backpack in the quad you ran back to get it. Upon arrival you realized Bakugo’s backpack was also there. He wouldn’t even have his stuff with him to finish homework or study during house arrest. You groaned. This guilt was horrible. It ate at you for rest of the day. The rest of your friends didn’t feel any better. And combat training wasn’t the same for you without that familiar sound of explosions going off in the background. It actually made the class feel kind of empty.

As usual at the end of the day you sat in the common area with the rest of the girls.

“So...is it true y/n?” Ochaco poked hesitantly.

You glared at Mina. Loose lips as usual.

“Sorry y/n. I talk when I’m stressed.” Mina cried only kind of regretful.

You sighed. You didn’t have the heart to actually be upset with her. You were the villain here. Getting Bakugo into so much trouble.

“Yea.” You huffed out. Talking about it made you cringe. It was like admitting your sworn rival had defeated you somehow. Even if you sort of didn’t mind the way he did it...

“What was it like?” Mina asked excited for the details.

“Is he a good kisser?” Ochaco added.

Your mind fell into a fog as you replayed the kiss again. Your skin went electric as you remembered the feel of his hands on your waist and those noises he was making. His lips wrapped around yours....

“Oh my god...Ochaco shes in love!” Mina concluded from you zoning out for what ended being like 15 seconds of you staring into space with a little smile on your face. She was practically singing.

“I am not!” You yelled flustered.

“Why are so many people yelling today?” Kirishima chuckled as he rounded the corner to join the couch.

“So is he mad?” Mina’s voice had changed into the sad one from earlier.

“I don’t know. Every time I knock he just tells me to go away. But that’s not that different from normal honestly.” He smiled. Their friendship was so odd.

Suddenly his backpack flashed through your mind. It was sitting in your room.

You got up to leave. You tried to be sneaky about it as they discussed how to cheer the victim up. But to no avail, they’d never let you sneak off again.

“Where you going huh?” Mina’s voice was painfully suggestive.

“To my room!”

“Uh huh, we’ve heard that one before.”

You stuck your tongue at her.

Kirishima twisted to face you over the back of the couch. “So if I ask Bakugo tomorrow if he saw you tonight he’s gonna say no, right?” Who knew he could be this ruthless. No mercy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. You’d been cornered.

“Look. He left his backpack earlier and I’m just going to give it to him! Jeez do you want to do it or something Kiri?” You were seething.

“Nahh, you should do it. He’ll just yell at me to go away again.” He winked. It made you cringe again.

You could peel your skin off from this teasing. But you know someone who hated it even more. You knew that’s why he wouldn’t let Kirishima into his room.

You ran off before they could crack any more jokes.

On your way to the elevators you heard a creepy cackle come from somewhere. You spun around, alarmed, as a “what the fuck” escaped your lips. Your eyes landed on one eyeball peeking through the crack of a doorway.

“Can I get a kiss too?” The voice was wet with drool and lust. “Just one?”

“I will kick your face in Mineta.”

The door quickly shut. Did Mina tell the fucking whole class!?

With more haste now you stormed to your room to get the stupid backpack that was causing you so many problems and made your way to your other problem’s door.

Before you knocked you realized your hands were shaking. Nervous? Seriously, over this moron? You shook it off with resolve and knocked.

“Fuck off Denki, for the hundredth fucking time I’m busy!” A gruff voice yelled from behind the door.

“Oh please, busy with what?” You retorted reflexively. Earlier you had decided you were going to try to be nicer but that sentiment wore off as soon as you heard his annoying voice.

The door swung open.

“What do you want?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

Your mind went blank. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Of course it made his biceps look better than normal. He was wearing a black t-shirt that made his skin look perfectly tanned and was snug in all the right places. And why did he always smell so good damn. Today it was like vanilla and woodsy aftershave.

Stop staring. Stop staring. Speak bitch.

“Here’s your backpack. You should keep better track of it. I had to carry it around all day. That’s annoying.” You tossed it at him.

Why couldn’t you say anything nice? He took the heat for everyone. It’s like your mouth was rebelling against you.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe you should work out more weakling.”

Panic panged in your chest as he started to shut the door in your face.

“Wait—“ you stopped it with your hand.

He paused. Mild interest dawned his brow.

“Why—why did you lie?”

“What?”

“To Mr. Aizawa. You could have told him it was my fault.”

“What do you care?” He pressed. His tone always managed to infuriate you.

You spun on your heels and started to walk away. “Nevermind.”

“Because I felt bad. You hurt your stupid head.”

You’d forgotten about that with all the guilt that had been overrunning your head. It didn’t even hurt anymore. You were surprised he’d even noticed.

“Oh.”

“But obviously you’re fine now so I guess it was all for nothing.” He added quickly trying to sound indignant.

The guilt punched you again. Especially now that you were face to face with him. He didn’t even look mad. He actually looked calm. And he looked good. You tried to deny your attraction to him. But flashes of his hand on your waist started invading your mind again. You could feel him wrapped around your neck. The way he was gentle and rough at the same time.

“Instead of just standing there you could actually make yourself useful. You owe me anyways.”

You snapped out of it trying not to look flustered. You shot him a confused and slightly offended look.

“Fill me in on what I missed in class...” he explained. He wouldn’t make direct eye contact though.

“Are you saying you need my help?” You had to do it. You couldn’t not take an opportunity.

“Tch. Obviously no—“

“Let’s do it. Move.” You said as you pushed past him into his room. Your hand made full contact with his abs and you felt that heat again.

He shut the door behind you and your heart started off like a race horse as you heard him lock it.

You suspected it was to lock the other boys out. God forbid they catch you in his room after all this.

Shit....you were in his room. Alone. With your hot head. The day after he kissed you. The evening after he took all the fury of Mr. Aizawa for you and moments after he asked you to help him study even though he gets way better grades than you.

He cleared a spot for you to sit on his bed and then leaned back into his chair with his hands locked behind his head. His flexing muscles were distracting you again.

“You better actually remember everything.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him.

His words were supposed to rile you but the way he looked at you, like he was secretly loving that you were here was making your stomach flutter. You could feel your face red and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. At this rate you were going to throw yourself at him before he had the chance to kiss you again. As long as you two didn’t start fighting again first.....

~~

💥 YES there will be a pt 3!!! 💥

It’s going to be called “sTuDyiNg” HAHA (hint: Bakugo doesn’t actually wanna study “dumbass”)

Update: Pt.3 is up now!! Read it here

[realcube]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ CHARACTEROLOGY for @miauchu

𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event

𓆩♡𓆪 chosen tropes: multiple

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR CHARACTERS ARE...

YŪ NISHINOYA

the tropes that made me think of nishinoya for you are love at first sight / soulmate au. in a soulmate au where the way to find your soumate is very obvious (such as matching birthmarks or a timer on your wrist that counts down until the second you first meet your soumate) and he realises it's you.. omg he's gonna go crazy. like as soon as he realises you're his soulmate he's gonna smile the biggest he ever has and literally leap into your arms, probs will start crying too from happiness lol. also a specific type of soulmate au that i think would suit the two of you would an au where everyone has a distinct physical feature that only their soulmate will share. (such as a specific pattern of freckles, naturally colored nails, a scar etc) and in nishinoya's case, his feature is the tuff of blond hair he has at the front of his head. and when he sees you have that too, his eyes will light up. nishinoya deserves a "love at first sight" moment too because tanaka had one with kiyoko so why can't noya have one too 😤

HAWKS

fake dating with hawks 10000%. like you might not expect it because a big part of his brand revolves around being this hot eligble bachelor for fangirls to thirst over, but really they are only a small subset of the population. and even his fangirls go crazy when they see him save you from like a burning building in a partiularly romantic way — carrying you out bridal style or something like that. and the fans + news outlets eat that shit up 🍽 like pictures of him soaring through the sky with you unconcious in his arms are plastered on newspapers, magazines, even on live television. so naturally everyone begins shipping the two of you so hawks — desperate for that number 1 spot in the pro-hero popularity rankings — contacted you like 'do you wanna pretend to be my gf? we'll pay you' so ofc you were hell yeah. and the news and fanpages continue to CRAZY after y'all become a 'couple' and start going on 'dates' together. pictures of you and hawks end up on television and fansites everywhere. but really, the reason the public likes the two of you as a couple so much is that they can feel the undeniable chemistry, just by the way you look at each other with longing, but can you feel it? this also touches on idiots in love because one of your new favourite pass-times is watching interviews of your 'boyfriend' hawks, in which he is being asked about your relationship. "oh, when did we start dating? uhhh, about 3 months ago." "but you said you first met when you saved her from that burning building?" "yeah, and?" "that incident only occured 2 months ago..."

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

he's great for angst because it's genuinely uncertain whether you will get angst/comfort or angst/no comfort lol. i think the angsty situation and turmoil would stem from his passion for volleyball, and how he wants to keep the sport at the centre of his life so he has a hard time letting you in because he is afraid that it might affect his athletic performance. so even though you two are such a cute couple and you honestly make him so happy, he might end up pushing you away in favour of prioritising volleyball. however, equally there is a chance that he might pick his own happiness over his career, and finally say 'fuck it' and let you into his life. though i'd say neither is a concious decision, like even if he does pick volleyball, his intention would never be to hurt you, it would just be a gradually increase in his disinterest until you end up breaking up with his, which is like.. objectively more angsty anyway. because let's be real, if he knew how to properly communicate his emotions, none of this would be an issue in the first place because you'd either be able to reassure him that your love doesn't come at the expense of volleyball, or you could just break up with him on the spot and save yourself the slowburn ansgt haha.

for @miauchu: rah these were all really fun tropes to write about , also the matching blond hair strands thing with noya is gonna be on my brain for the rest of the day haha

[remsmoonlight]

— title : point of view

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : tomorrow is something that is never promised, less so when the dead walk the Earth. being trapped for the night when a storm pours down upon you and daryl while trapped in a decrepit house by a few walkers are you sick and tired of hiding what you feel.

— warnings : some swearing, talk of potential death ( of the reader ) , a wee bit of angst that turned into more at the end :)

note: omg another daryl oneshot i gotta chill ajksajksk, but i had like seven main bullet points i made to follow when writing this and i followed like...... two, three at the most, anyways.... enjoy? this is brought to u by ariana’s discography lmao oops it does be cute at some point tho ... also felt a bit hsm with that one line at the end ahaha but fr lemme stop talking now

      ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open !   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dark and gloomy clouds swirl over your head, blending into an extremely large and angry looking ready to descend from above. You wonder to yourself just how long you have left before the loud cracks that crumble through the air to accompany the forceful winds and pouring drops of rain are finally released. Halfway through the trip back from the town that lays after miles from the prison the car used decided it preferred to lay quietly in the middle of the road, shortly after the sickly sputters from the engine you heard Daryl mutter a few curse words. You were unable to hold in your amusement, despite the fact that a lack of transport obviously leaves you in a vulnerable position, it felt like it was your luck for that to happen to you.

It’s why you stay behind following the hunter in silence.

Studying him with focused eyes you can’t help but wonder how he never realises when you’re unable to tear your gaze away from him. In the beginning when you began to develop a certain affection for him you had been glad, for it to be too embarrassing for the thoughts you had about him in your head. In spite of this, when you realised that it was much more than a crush did you wish for him to mind read, because you have no idea just how to approach him about such a sensitive topic and while he can be tender about feelings, it’s also his downfall.

“ it’ll be gettin’ dark soon, there should be some houses down there to spend the night in. “

You stop in your tracks with a curious look that bled so suddenly into your features you had no time to stop it.

“ you don’t want to carry on? I mean, we’re not far from home? “ you question him with a hint of fear coddling your words.

“ we’d be trippin’ over our feet. Let’s back it back in one piece, yeh? “

Nodding, you regain your pace. It’s been a few months since you’d been hopping from one house to the other during that harsh winter, the bare thought of having to stay in yet another frail structure sent a chilly hand drawing its claws deeply up your spine. If you never had your group, you don’t think you would have made a winter like that, barely protected from the elements and the walkers that wished to plunge their teeth cavernously into your flesh.

“ as long as we leave as soon as the sun comes up. Please. “ you plead, your words filter off into a gentle volume from your position.

Leaves crumble and buckle underneath the weight, the sound of crickets dominate your surroundings as the two of you walk in silence. You itch to start a conversation, but the fear of distracting the man and annoying withhold the words that wish to fall from your lips, even then you don’t know how to begin. What would you say? There’s not much to talk about in a world where the dead have risen, where they wish to drag the world into decomposition.

Your wandering mind is pulled from its very own depths from a noise coming from Daryl, he’d turned to catch your attention. You both set to work attempting to enter any of the abandoned houses, hoping one had been left unlocked at some point.

Of course, luck is scarce. Despite there not being a soul who occupies them, they’re still somehow locked. Mournfully, you wonder if the owners of these homes had thought the governments and armies would eventually lock everything under their control, to the point that there would be a house for them to come back to? Your heart thuds painfully in your chest to think about what happened to them, and if they’re even still surviving.

A large thud draws you back to the present, the wooden door splinters at the force Daryl puts into a large kick to its frame.

“ well, there goes the lock. “ you mutter humourously, lifting the heavy bag higher up onto your shoulders as you walk in the open door.

“ we’ll put the couch there, stop any unfriendly types that come our way. “

“ I don’t know if there’s anyone left anymore. “ you reply, dropping the bag to the floor and moving towards the couch.

Situated on the other side of it, you grip the plush handle and lift with a struggle. It’s a strain to get it through the doorway to  turn it around the corner, but eventually it happens. Daryl is joined by your presence by his side, you both push ⏤ this time it’s an easier feat with two of you on one side to dedicate your strength and weight to advance it.

As soon as you finish, a heavy crackle cuts through the air.

“ we got here just in time, huh? “

“ just about. “ he answers you, sparing a glance before moving through the lower floor ⏤ searching for anything that can be taken back to the prison.

Thunderstorms had never been your favourite thing growing up. Of course, rain was something that calmed you from the anxieties life brought, but the thunder and lightning is what you loathed. Never knowing when you were about to receive a fright from the loud rumbles and flashing lights ruined the whole experience for you.

The rustling Daryl makes is the only thing that brings you comfort in this moment, keeping you grounded and away from your thoughts. It doesn’t escape your notice that these houses feel no more than graveyards with the memories that have no use to live, instead haunting the structures with what could have been had chaos and death not taken over. You climb the stairs, hugging your sides as you refuse to touch the handrail leading up stairs.

There is a middle room with access granted without having to push open the door to gain entry. Your eyes scan the room’s interior, even with the dust and grime that bespeckle its surfaces, you can still see its beauty. Now, who does that remind you of? Your mind cheekly thinks before you banish it into the shadows of your brain, where you know it will force itself out with an immense stubbornness.

Despite the thunder booming in the distance frequently, you can’t help but admire the beauty of rain drops falling to the ground with a dainty grace only it holds. The sky continues to grow dimmer, only seeing the rain on your level and lower, no street lights flood the street to aid you in being able to see torrent from above. Jumping at another roar of sound from the storm, your heart begins to pick up its pace, so much you don’t realise Daryl joining you in the room.

“ scared? “

Turning around with such speed that leaves you surprised whiplash did not greet you, Daryl is left smirking at your reaction.

“ yeah, I hate these things. “ you respond, a bitterness coating each word heavily as you speak.

“ more than walkers? “ he questions you, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“ well, I suppose not that much .. “ another clap of thunder interrupts you, the rain beating harder and harder on the windows of the bedroom. “ can we talk about anything? This shit really grates on my nerves. “

“ what y’wanna talk about? “

Your mind stalls, with the previous thoughts that had been swirling in a state of disorder your draw a blank. A continuous thump downstairs interrupts your shrug, speeding down the stairs you realise a few walkers are trying to enter the property, of course their lack of intelligence fails to realise they’re throwing themselves into the walls and not the blocked doors.

“ shall we take them out? “ moving closer to the lengthy curtained window next to the door to get a better look, you can see three walkers hauling themselves mindlessly against the structure.

“ nah, the storm’ll get ‘em soon enough. “ he shakes his head softly, your mind taking note of the lack of proximity between your bodies as he repeats your action. “ no need to risk ourselves. “

“ wouldn’t be the first time you’ve risked your life. “

“ s’nothin. “ he contradicts gruffly, wiping a finger across his nose at your words. He truly doesn’t view it as that, refusing to think of it as risking his life. To Daryl, it doesn’t feel like risking everything to help the people around him, it’s not something he can find the words to explain but all he knows if there’s a chance, he would do it again and again.

“ Daryl Dixon, so humble. “ you speak warmly with a gentle smile threading itself into your features. “ you need to give yourself more credit. “

“ stop. “

“ you’re as brave as anyone in the group. I’d say braver than Rick. “ you joke, setting yourself from the entryway to the sitting room. “ although, if I had to choose you and Carol .. I’m sorry, but Carol every time! “

“ damn woman frightens me. “

Laughter light in weight dances airily between you with an elegance in its movement. For even a fraction of a second you forget that there are walkers that are itching to break through into the property, that there’s an angry storm that threatens to demolish whatever stands in its path, because right now it’s only you both here and now in this one room.

“ she’s come a long way. “ you agree, pulling a lone chocolate bar from your bag. Your favourite and you’re thanking the universe that it hasn’t spoiled yet. Turns out all these preservatives and chemicals have some use after all you note to yourself as half is offered to the man standing across from you.

“ so have ‘yuh. “ he acknowledges, taking the broken half of the candy from you.

“ I think we all have to be honest. I don’t think any one of us are the people we used to be. “

“ now who’s humble? “ Daryl asks, his tone light in relaxed merriment. He’d long since taken note of the transformation you’d gone through, he’s never seen you so strong as a person before.

“ don’t you turn this round on me, Dixon. “

The two of you fall silent, you direct your gaze to the window and the raindrops that litter the window pane’s surface. The harsh noises thundered no more, leaving a calm pitter of precipitation to fall with no interruption. From your position on the second couch, you wrap around a thin decorational blanket around your arms, leaning your cheek against the palm of your hand.

Pretending the world hasn’t gone to hell, that it’s just a normal evening where you’re admiring the scene before you. Skies that weep heavily is what the Georgian greenery has been calling out for, especially since the warmer temperatures have returned in full force. Switching your line of sight to Daryl, you feel a mellowness in the pit of your stomach as you watch him fondly. You can’t be sure if it’s the lack of distractions or eyes from your group, but you feel a miniscule spark of confidence within your confines.

“ come sit down, you can relax for a bit. “ you call, trying to convince him lightly. Your hand moves to pat the seat next to you.

“ can’t relax in this world. “ despite the disagreement in his words he does move towards your position on the plush seat.

“ it doesn’t mean we can’t make it. Otherwise we’d be burnt out, I’d hate to see that happen to you. “ You divulge as you reply to him, little inklings of hope in your tone.

“ y’don’t gotta worry ‘bout me. “

“ but I do, Daryl. “ you groan as a dull glumness contorts your features into something new. “ I mean, the lengths you go to .. you scare me to death. “

“ don’t be dumb. “ Daryl warns lowly as he shakes his head, few have shared their vulnerability with him. Perhaps only Carol, his mind can’t wrap itself around the fact that people genuinely care for him. Growing up, he’d been taught of it as a weakness. Something that should not exist, no one cared when he went missing for a short while as a child, and now having people who show him the opposite? It leaves a strange feeling to settle within his heart.

“ please, I need to tell you. I mean, I might not even be here tomorrow. “

“ nah, don’t say that. Y’will. “ he argues, he doesn’t even want to entertain the notion of not seeing you even for a day ⏤ let alone forever.

Truthfully, you’d not been particularly close. He understands it now, he pushed everyone away wherever he had the chance to. But after the downfall of the farm? You wouldn’t let up in trying to forge bonds that could rival even the strongest of metals. You had no idea, but he’d overheard you talking to Beth one day. When you said you didn’t want to be afraid of living, to have something worth dying for. That struck him deep.

“ neither you or I can guarantee that. Now, call me selfish but I can’t die with what ifs in my brain. “ you explain, you know it’s probably selfish to announce any kind of fondness for a person nowadays, because you can be ripped from their existence without any kind of announcement. But if you were to depart from the realm of the living, you’d want to have affectionate memories to experience and for them to look back on.

“ what y’sayin? “

Your eyes well up in frustration, whether it’s over the way you find the words are hiding beneath your tongue like cowards under the cloak of night or over the fact that you have begun this topic of conversation, backing yourself into a corner. There’s so much you want to say but how you should is not coming easy. Eloquence in your words is something you find yourself yearning for with all of your being should it bring you a happy ending to this discussion.

This isn’t a fairytale, there’s no happy or bad endings in real life you sorely think. There’s just reality, and the conclusions for that are neither black or white.

Fingertips grip the roots of your hair for a fleeting moment before letting go as if you’d never clutched them in exasperation at all.

Shutting your eyes so hard they hurt, you muster up the courage to speak the truth you’ve locked away in your heart, allowing it the light it has been deprived of for so long.

“ Daryl, I ⏤ “ your voice shuts off with a painful sound, sighing as if to psych yourself up. “ I feel more for you than I probably should. “

When Daryl says nothing, you open your eyes. Your entire being preparing yourself for the worse answer, this moment may hurt now but the pain will lessen. At least your soul feels lighter with the hidden information no longer chained to it as a burden, no longer will it have to be weighed down by its mass.  

“ I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “

“ who said I didn’t wanna hear? “

“ ⏤ what ? “ you question, your brows falling lower as you squint in disbelief. You wonder if your brain is forming a false memory to protect itself later on.

“ y’don’t nothin’ to do with me though. “ he hesitates, the automatic response to push away anything good that comes his way to the furthest reaches. “ nothin’ but trouble. “

A sorrowful smile full of grief clouds your features, your unshed tears threaten to fall. If only he could see himself from your point of view, he doesn’t see just how admirable of a human being he is. Yes, he has his flaws but who doesn’t? In all of humanity, you don’t think there has ever been a perfect person, but it’s how they approach their downsides that shows the peak of their humanity, that they don’t let the darkness fester in their heart, to poison their soul into becoming a shell of a kind hearted person. That shows the strength of their character.

Daryl? You feel honoured to have been a first hand witness to see him turn from a hot ball of anger to a softer, kinder soul.

“ Daryl, you really don’t see what I do.” you forsake everything, leaning forwards and laying your hands across his. Taking in the immense warmth from them. “ That? It hurts me, because you’re rather amazing. “

Saying nothing, Daryl looks down at your intertwined hands. He wants the chance that’s being offered, though the fear of being the one who poisons everything he lays his touch upon settles heavily on his shoulder. No one has come out unscarred when dealing with a member of the Dixon family, his family tree being nothing more than toxic, with weeds that wrap around the limbs of the poor fool who got involved with them, as they drag them to their lowly depths. He doesn’t know how to let go of the past and for this he continues to pay, with the high price being his happiness in the present world. No response leaves his lips, for the first time in a long time he doesn’t know what to say, while knowing what he wants to say. It’s not until he feels arms wrapped around the top of his shoulders is he brought back down to Earth, a shudder of a breath is released from him as he realises what is going on. The action is reciprocated in earnest, you’re full of gratitude that he’s accepting your comfort ⏤ knowing it could have been a gamble of a decision, a fifty fifty chance of him reacting negatively or positively. You, too, draw comfort from the position you both find yourself, clutching the other. Hope dawns on your heart, knowing Daryl is not a particularly affectionate man. This means a lot, for it’s a leap for you both.

“ thank you. “ he whispers in the night. You know that this is the start of something new.

[polyghostfacehours]

OMG CONGRATS ON 3K

YOU'RE THE ONLY CREATOR IVE EVER HAD A FUNNY CONVO WITH AND YOU'RE ONE OF THE FIRST ONES I EVER FOLLOWED! LOVE YOUR CONTENT!

Also for the little event thing, here's a little description of myself!

Physical: Just today I dyed my hair a bright neon green. It looks like a highlighter. My hair is also only 2-3 inches long since I shaved it all a few months ago. I'm a bit chubby. I have a heavier bottom side than top. I have resting bitch face. When going out, I tend to wear fishnets, platform boots, a skirt, and some slasher themed top.

Mental(?): I'm autistic with ADHD, I also have depression, anxiety, and PTSD. However I tend to think of myself as a fun person to hang out with.

Anything else: I like to get 🍃 and my favorite drink is the Arizona fruit punch drink. My favorite animal is a kangaroo. I have daddy AND mommy Issues(call me double trouble LMAO). One of my friends has always said I'm the funniest person they've ever hung out with (like, thanks omg you got my feet swingin n shit). I'm nonbinary and pansexual. I'm also hypersexual. I like any music besides anything religious and most of country.

That's all!

PS: I would like to add, I've always thought I'd be good friends with them, but I tend to say a lot of 'your mom' jokes, so sorry Mr. Mommy Issues Billy LMAO

ASDFGHJKL YOU FLATTER ME FUCK. THANK YOU JUICE FOR THE KIND WORDS.

So, romantically, I feel you match a loooot with Stu!

- You're fun to hang out with? Good. You don't have to be as hyperactive or talkative as him, BUT in a serious relationship Stu does want a partner who's time he actually desires. Since it's more than just sex there. As a matter of fact, this is the key to him wanting a more serious relationship in the first place. ALL of his serious relationship (which haven't been many, most were casual), started by becoming close friends first.

- Oh no. Oh no no no I can see Stu getting addicted to Arizona Fruit Punch. Like once you introduce him he will never turn back. Regardless of what happens in the future, you will always be a part of him bc you'll always be the mf that introduced him to his now fave drink 😭.

- Hypersexual? You are literally speaking Stu's language. Billy is very horny too, but only for specific people. Stu on the other hand. Yo, I hope you like threesomes bc you two will be two hypersexual bi/pan disasters. Sweeping the whole ass nation.

- Stu has a lot of music opinions BUT he also has a very broad and wide range of music he likes. If you enjoy party songs or pop music you and him will absolutely vibe. But he also adores RnB and Hip-Hop as well. P much the only music genre Stu doesn't like is...heavy metal. Like I legit see him and Billy fighting over the aux/ what mixtape to use. Luckily you wont have that problem.