#even when i come across as harsh or otherwise mocking

[annwrites]

i've wanted this for so long

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & shane make love for the first time

— tags: angst, shane is desperately in love with you & has been waiting for this

— tw: depressive thoughts, sex

— word count: 2,229

It felt like since the world fell apart, that there wasn't a moment that you weren't filled with utter terror. Always waiting for the next tragedy to strike. But this? What you were about to ask of Shane?

It didn't matter if he'd already made you an offer...and mentioned it once more during target practice. You were petrified as you stood across the camp staring in his direction as he sorted through the duffle bag of firearms and ammo, trying to come up with the right way to say it.

You worry that perhaps he's now changed his mind. What if he doesn't want to anymore? And when you ask...is the camp really the best place to do it? What if someone overhears? What would they think?

And while he'd told you he'd moved past whatever he'd felt for Lori—whatever they'd had—you weren't so sure.

You suppose it doesn't matter either way. It'll be one thing: sex. No feelings attached. Just...just something you wanted to experience. To know what it felt like. A brief release.

You'd lied awake tossing and turning nearly all night, debating with yourself. You'd tried, in earnest, to talk yourself out of it. Told yourself you were being stupid. Selfish. You'd torn yourself apart until you were in tears.

He may've made it sound like—that night on the porch—it wouldn't just be 'getting laid' to him, but you knew otherwise. You were so...worthless and weak.

It doesn't matter that he told you he saw you as anything but. He was a leader. You, a follower. He'd kept everyone safe, had bothered to waste his time saving your life over and over. Meanwhile, you did meaningless chores all day.

Why had he ever bothered giving you the time of day in the first place? Why had he ever glanced twice in your direction? You can't wrap your head around it.

You could never mean something more to someone. Not that you want to to him. You know he's...beyond your grasp.

You shake your head, huffing, fighting back tears again. God, you were absolutely pathetic.

And it's the very reason you finally march over to him, ready for him to tell you no. That he had no idea what he was thinking making someone like you such an offer in the first place.

You want the rejection. You want him to hurt you. Badly. You want to be proven right: that you're nothing.

It'll make letting go of this idiotic idea that much easier.

Shane doesn't even see you standing across the picnic table at first.

You clasp your hands nervously in front of you. "Shane."

He looks up to you. "Was thinkin' 'bout gettin' these rifles cleaned up and sortin' through the ammo. Not sure how much we've got left in here. If you want to help, you can-"

"I want you to do it."

He stops, the pistol in his hand slipping from his grip back into the bag. He stares at you for a moment. "What?"

Please, be as harsh as possible, you think.

"I want you to take my virginity."

He blinks at you, dumbfounded. And then a slow smile spreads across his lips.

You hope he's about to mock you for ever taking his offer seriously in the first place. You know he's about to.

You don't blame him.

He comes around the table to stand in front of you. He gently takes your hand in his. "You do?"

You nod.

The look on his face softens and you suddenly feel confused.

Why isn't he being mean to you for this?

"When?" He asks in a hopeful whisper.

"N-now...?"

He reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. "Where?"

Had...had he actually meant it, then?

"I...I don't know." You can't think.

"I know a place."

"Oh." Had he thought ahead? Been planning for it all this time?

He chuckles. "I uh...I need to grab somethin' from my tent real quick. Wait here for me?"

You nod.

You stand there taken completely aback. How...how could he actually want this with you? To be the one to do it? You saw it as more of a burden on him than anything.

A chore.

You're broken from spiraling thoughts of telling him to forget it, that you've changed your mind; made a mistake, by him taking your hand in his and leading you away from the farm, a blanket tucked under his other arm.

Shane had led you well away from the house and into a clearing in the middle of the woods. And it was beautiful.

Vibrant green canopies of tree leaves were overhead, the sun shining through them, casting rays of light across the forest floor. Birds sung a melody all around you, and a cool breeze kissed your skin.

You look to him and watch as he fans out the blanket he'd brought, smoothing it across the grass.

Finally, he stands again.

Before he can speak, you do so first.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

He gives you a quizzical look. "I should be asking you that. Why're you askin' me, though, darlin'?"

"I don't understand you," you blurt out.

He raises a brow.

You continue. "Don't...don't you see this as more of a burdensome chore than anything else?"

Sadness for you flashes across his features. "How could I ever see makin' love you as that?" He cups your cheeks in his hands then.

"Making...love..." You struggle to wrap your head around him seeing it as that.

His voice becomes a mere whisper. "I've wanted this for so long. Have I not made my feelings for you clear yet?"

You blink up at him in response.

"Then let me show you. Right now."

Shane crushes his lips to yours, cupping the back of your head, holding you to him, terrified that if he lets go for even a moment, you'll run and this...this will be over. For good.

He'd waited for you for weeks, and months, and now—now—here you were. Finally.

You had finally come to him on your own. Had finally asked him for himself. Asked him to be the one man you gave this precious part of yourself to.

How could he not love you for that? How could he not otherwise?

He slides his other hand along your hip, until his palm is pressed firmly to the small of your back, bringing your body closer to his own. He flicks his tongue against your lips, asking you for entrance.

And you grant it.

He flicks his tongue again, against yours, silently encouraging you to enjoy this. To make the most of this—of all of it—of him.

He pulls away for a moment, reaching down to his belt, until your hands come to rest over his.

He looks at you, heart sinking. "Do you want to stop?"

You shake your head, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, then back down.

He drops his hands and yours take over, gently unbuckling his belt.

Meanwhile, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you next unzip and unbutton his pants.

He toes off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head, then stepping out of his pants next.

Once he's clad in nothing but his boxers, erection firmly present, he slides his hands up your hips, pulling your shirt off as well.

He reaches to the back of you, gently unclasping your bra and you cover yourself as it slips off of your arms.

He shakes his head, his eyes searching for yours. "You don't need to hide from me."

"What...what if you don't like how I look...once I'm naked?"

He hates that you're worried about such a thing in the first place, but understands.

"What're you worried about, babydoll? Some stretch marks? Do you want to know what a man thinks when a naked woman is in front of him?"

You shrug.

"Shit, she's naked."

You give a small laugh at that and he's glad to see you smile.

"A woman giving you her naked body is a gift. Any man who sees it otherwise never deserved you in the first place. At that," he says, unbuttoning your jeans. "He ain't a man if judging your body is the only thing on his mind when you're like that in front of him."

Finally, you toe off your shoes as well.

He gently tugs your jeans down past your hips, then your legs, until they've pooled around your feet.

You step out of them and Shane lays them to the side.

He stands again and you lower your arms.

He grips either of your hips, thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your sides as he studies your nearly-naked form, wanting desperately the unwrap the rest of his gift by removing your panties.

He looks you over, eyes dilating with lust.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you've got anythin' to be worried about."

He looks into your eyes and his lip twitches when he sees how flushed your face is.

He crushes his lips back to yours, sliding his hand down your stomach, past the waistline of your panties, his palm coming to rest against your sex, which is already pleasantly wet.

He runs two fingers between your folds and you whimper against his lips, your tongue slipping inside his mouth.

He does it again and your hips jerk, bringing you closer to him as you throw your arms around his neck, breasts pressed firmly to his chest.

He groans as he continues to tease that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until his palm is covered in you.

Shane then reaches down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around him as he sets both of you on the ground.

He lies you back as he rests on his haunches, studying every inch of you.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, looks at you, and when you give him a small nod, slips them down your legs, tossing them to the side, his hands spreading your legs further apart.

He licks his lips. "You're so damn perfect."

He leans down, kissing your lips fervently, but gently. He then presses hot kisses to your neck, then your shoulder, your breasts—he teases your nipples with the tip of his tongue until your hips are rising up to rub against his erection, desperate for any form of friction. He them moves to your stomach, spearing his tongue as he licks and teases, then moves lower until his face is between your thighs.

He throws your legs over his shoulders, and you gasp as he presses his open mouth against you, tasting you over and over, lapping at you like he can't get nearly enough. He spreads your soaked folds with his tongue, teasing against your tight entrance. He then flicks his tongue against your clit over and over, and your hips buck against him—his large calloused hands holding firmly against them—as you fuck yourself against his mouth.

He eventually begins to press wet hot kisses to your inner thighs, enjoying the sight of you spread open before him, pink and glistening. And the sounds mewling from your mouth... He doesn't know if he's ever been so fucking turned on before.

Finally, he stands quickly enough to remove his boxers, reaching to retrieve a condom from the pocket of his pants and your eyes widen as he rolls it onto his considerable length. All you can think is that much girth will be excruciating.

He lays back down on top of you, erection in his right hand, rubbing against your entrance as his other smooths hair away from your face as he kisses and kisses you. Finally, he begins to ease into you, inch by inch.

You do your utmost to relax, positioning one of your legs over his back and it helps with the pain, even minimally.

He stops halfway inside of you to allow you to adjust.

"You alright, angel?"

You nod, biting your lip. You wiggle your hips, trying to get more comfortable.

"Want me to keep goin'?"

He voice is husky, his words said between breaths.

You nod.

Once he's eased himself the rest of the way inside of you, he presses his forehead against your shoulder. "Jesus Christ," he whispers.

You wrap your arms around him, massaging the back of his head with your fingers.

He fights against his body jerking as he feels you clench around him once, twice...

He looks at you, and in that moment...something has changed. For both of you.

He kisses you. "This won't be enough for me. I can't just do this once and be expected to forget about it. To move on. Getting over her was one thing. But if I lose you? It'll damn-near kill me." He twines his fingers between yours as he begins to move inside of you. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me," he grunts, slipping out then back into you. "Tell me this is forever."

You wrap your other leg around him and he sinks even deeper. You sigh, gripping his chin gently in your hand, wanting nothing more than to look into his eyes as you give him this promise.

"I'm yours, Shane. Forever."

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

Chapter 32

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Word count: 5.7K

Warning: Some tears, little bit of angst, Sad Henry, Some seperation anxiety, some fluff

A/N: Our favorite family is back. Also it's the first official introduction to Steve's Honey. Although it's only for a brief moment. This also happens before all of the holiday one shots for this series.

Series Masterlist

There was fire in your veins. It traveled from the top of your head to your toes. The burning sensation wouldn’t stop even as you begged for some mercy. Leather straps dug into your flesh, cutting your skin and drawing  blood. The more you struggled the worse it got. 

A voice, familiar, cold and harsh made impossible demands. You begged some more. The only response you received was that same voice, mocking you and a stinging sensation across your cheek.

You couldn’t place the voice no matter how much you tried to remember. Where had you heard it before? A choked sob escapes you as the group of people around you move to ‘work’ on you. 

****

Shallow ragged breaths fill the otherwise quiet room. Slowly a voice calls out to you. Dripping with love and innocence and concern. It pulled you out of the deep dark memories that were weighing you down.

“Mama, is kay now. No cwy.” Charlotte’s reassurance was spoken in a calming manner. 

“It’s just a nightmare.” You heard Henry say as you finally opened your eyes. 

Your body ached, your muscles were tense and sore but you realized that you weren’t in the living room anymore. At some point someone, most likely Bucky, moved you to the master bedroom. Immediately your mind went back to the nightmare, a memory really. You couldn’t shake that feeling of knowing who that voice belonged to. 

“Mowning mama.” Lottie’s sweet sleepy voice pulls your attention as she gently caresses your cheek. She wipes away the tears that had fallen. 

“Morning sweet Angel. Morning my sweet boy.” 

It was a delight for them to hear those nicknames. They sat at either side of you and when you opened your arms they didn’t hesitate to snuggle up to you. You kissed the tops of their heads and just enjoyed being with them again. It was obvious by the sleepy looks in their eyes that you had woken them up. The door opens slowly and you manage to look over to see Bucky pop his head in. His smile is breathtakingly soft as he watches the three of you all cuddled up in bed. 

“Daddy come on.” Henry patted the empty space beside him.

Bucky’s smile widened as he walked in and closed the door. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants which meant that he had just woken up too. He had no problem taking up the empty spot next to his son. Instinctively Bucky’s hand finds yours, your fingers intertwine with his. Soon enough Henry starts telling you about the video games he and uncle Sam and uncle Josh played. Lottie tells you about her sleepovers with Olivia. You listen and ask all kinds of questions and for those few minutes you forget about the hell you lived through and the three months you had been separated. The four of you joke and laugh, share cuddles and kisses. Your heart feels light and it erases any memory of your nightmare. 

There’s a knock on the door and when it opens it’s your dad. He informs you that your siblings are here. Reluctantly you let the kids go and got up, sitting at the edge of the bed. Henry took Charlotte’s hand and led her out to the living room, you could immediately hear your siblings greeting them. 

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked. He knew from experience that asking if someone was ok after a traumatic experience wasn’t the best way to get them to talk. 

“Tired.” You murmured. “I had a nightmare, a memory really. I hate remembering.” 

He shuffled around and sat next to you. Bucky’s arm moved behind you until it settled around your waist. 

“I know Sugar. I hate to say it but it won’t always be easy. But I’m right here with you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” 

You gave him a sad smile before resting your head on his shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes before you get up and head to the bathroom to freshen up. 

****

Bucky had already joined your family in the living room. He’d advised them that you had woken up from a nightmare, that from the events that happened the day before you were probably still on edge and that it would be better to not get too excited or loud around you just yet.  

“Hey.” You said as you stood at the edge of the living room. Unsure of what to do next. 

“Y/N.” 

Luke got up first and he made his way towards you. It was slow and cautious, almost as if he was afraid to scare a wild animal. 

“Can I hug you?” He asked, although he kept his hands in his pockets instead of holding his arms out and not really giving you a choice. 

“Yeah, that would be ok.” 

Gently Luke pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. You clung to him. The moment felt all too familiar. It brought you back to your childhood when you would get in trouble way before you had been alienated from your siblings. You realized you were crying harder than you meant to because Luke was swaying side to side and reassuring you that you were safe. 

Next came Josh and Sofia, followed by Molly. All of them telling you how happy they were that you were safe. Olivia was the last to come up to you. Still shy around you but you couldn’t blame her, you had barely spent any time together. 

“Hi auntie Y/N.” She says shyly, halfway hidden behind Molly’s legs. 

“Hi Oli. Lottie told me you had a lot of sleepovers.” You had gone down to her level and she loosened her grip on Molly’s leg and shifted a tad bit closer. 

“Yeah, she was sad a lot because she missed you.” 

“I missed her too, but thank you because you kept her company.” 

“I missed you too.” She reveals as she walks even closer to you. “You’re fun.” 

“Yeah? I missed you too.” 

Olivia is finally standing in front of you, her hands behind her back and she squirms around a bit. You play with her curls and smile at her.

“Can I hug you too?” 

“I would really love a hug from you.” 

She gives you a toothy grin and then her small arms wrap loosely around your neck. You pull her in and pick her up. 

“Thank you for helping Charlotte and Henry while I was gone. You are the best cousin ever.” You whisper in her ear and she giggles. With a kiss to her temple you set her down. 

There’s an awkward silence. You knew that they wanted to ask you about what you went through. There was no way you’d tell them. Some of it you didn’t even really remember. 

“What do you need from us?” Luke asks as everyone settles down. 

You blinked at him, confused at his question. 

“We don’t want to overwhelm you.” Molly adds. “So whatever you need us for, we're here, just let us know.” 

You nodded but you were at a loss for words. It was a lot to take in, in the last few hours. It hadn’t even been a full 24 since you were found so suddenly having so much control of yourself and freedom you didn’t know what to do. 

“Shouldn’t you be meeting with Shuri?” Ed offered.

“Yeah we should. Are you ok with waiting here?” 

“Of course, whatever you need.” 

The information Shuri had for you was worse than you thought. There were several microchips implanted in your brain. Those along with a chemical component were being used to control you. Half of the issue was resolved when Yelena sprayed the antidote in your face a few hours ago. The other half was going to be complicated. You were going to need literal brain surgery to be completely free of hydra’s hold. 

Bucky took you aside and for a while he just held you. It was overwhelming. The decisions you’d both have to make were difficult. 

“Look at me Sugar.” Bucky murmurs as he pulls back. Your red rimmed eyes meet his bright blue ones. “I know it���s a lot more to ask of you. You’ve been through hell, I get it. But we have to do this. We have to go back to Wakanda and make sure those things are out of your head. I promise I’ll be right there with you. Then this will all be over.” 

“What about the kids?” 

Bucky sighs. 

“But you just got back, you can’t leave mama.” Henry argues, he’s on the verge of tears. 

“I know, sweet boy. I don’t want to go but the bad men hurt me and I have to go to Wakanda to get better like you, daddy and Lottie did.” 

“But we were gone for so long.” 

“Shuri thinks that it will take less time, bubs.” You tried to soothe him and run your hand up and down his arm but he pulled away. 

“Why can’t we go with you? You went with us last time?” 

“Bubba, mama needs to get bettuh.” Lottie speaks up for the first time. You had noticed she had been lost in thought, you’re sure she was having a vision. 

“But daddy is going.” 

“I’m going to be there to watch over mama during and after her treatments.” Bucky added.

Henry threw his arms around your neck and cried. He pleaded with you to take him but in reality you weren’t sure if your memory would be affected after the surgery or worse if you’d die because of it. You didn’t want either of them to see that and Bucky wouldn’t be able to watch them and take care of you at the same time. That’s what you tried to explain to Henry but he wouldn’t accept it. After going back and forth he just stepped away from you. 

“Fine leave again then. I don’t care.” He all but yelled before running away, turning invisible as he did. 

His reaction had you crying. He had been anxious while you were gone and now that he had you back you were leaving again. Henry’s reaction was completely understandable but it still hurt you. Lottie stood in front of you and offered you a smile. Her hair was much longer and she had it swept over her shoulder to one side as she played with the ends. 

“Is kay mama. Bubba just scared. I make him not scared.” 

“You’re gonna take care of him while we’re gone?” 

“Mmhmm.” She nods as she places her arms and crosses them over your legs propping her chin on one of her free hands. “No be scared mama.” She taps her temple. “Mama be kay. I see it.” 

You make a sound between a laugh and a sob before you pick her up. Lottie smiled at you and leaned into your chest. Leaving them again wasn’t going to be easy. In fact you were sure that the tightness in your chest had everything to do with being away from them. 

****

Shuri and the Dora Milaje that stayed to protect her were already on their jet. You and Bucky would be leaving with them. There was not a lot of time from when you told the kids to when you’d actually leaving so you weren’t able to talk to Henry again. You didn’t want to leave things like that with him but the clock was ticking and you weren’t sure what hydra would be able to do to you. After you said goodbye to your family you and Bucky were at Bruce’s lab, getting some last minute information. 

“This is a very awkward conversation to be having.” Bruce sighed. 

“Is something wrong with Y/N?”

“No, not exactly.” Bruce cleared his throat but was going slightly red at the mere thought of having to discuss this. “I think you should um not- do certain things for the next three weeks.”

“What things Bruce?” You look at him confused. “No training or using guns?”

“No. I mean you shouldn’t do those things either.”

“Then what?” Bucky was getting irritated.

“Don’t have sex.” 

You and Bucky turn to see a woman walking up to you.

“I’m sorry what? Who are you?” 

“I’m Dr. Banner’s new assistant.” She offers you and Bucky her name. “I started a few weeks ago. Anyways, while running some tests on your blood samples we found high doses of medication used for fertility treatments.” 

The reality of what this meant sat heavy in the air. They were preparing to use you for another winter soldier child and who knows what they would have done to you once you gave birth. 

“She’s right. I’ll have Shuri monitor your levels but from now until you get back it’s best if you abstain from those activities. Unless of course you’re ready for more kids.”

“Bruce, just tell us not to have sex.” Bucky shakes his head and holds back a chuckle. 

“Fine, don’t have sex. Now get out of my lab.” He chuckles. “I know you’re in very capable hands but good luck.” 

“Thanks Bruce.”  You also thank his assistant before heading out.

****

“So brain surgery, upset kid and now no sex. Things can only go up from here.” You tell Bucky as you sit back in the jet. 

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. 

“They will. They have to.”

“I haven’t had the chance to say it but I’m glad you’ve let your hair grow out. I always wanted to play with your hair when you had it long like this.” 

“You’re welcome to play with my hair as much as you want.” 

You sigh and lay your head against his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong, Sugar?” 

You take a moment and tell him what’s bothering you. That voice in your dream and how you felt that you were supposed to recognize it. That there were things that you didn’t remember but that it was more than that, it felt that there was a wall blocking those memories. Bucky takes your hand and reassures you that everything will be ok. That most likely you just need to remove those microchips in your brain and everything will fall back into place. You can only hope that he’s right.

For days Shuri worked tirelessly to undo what hydra had done. It was difficult the first time you woke up to find out that the surgery was being done in sections. After two weeks of going between surgery and recovery, Shuri was finally done. It was complicated to say the least but it had been successful. You took one week to fully recover thanks to the serum.

****

It was a brisk night in Wakanda. The nightgown you had on did little to keep you warm but with all of the memories coming back to you it was a welcomed change. Some peace and quiet was exactly what you needed as you thought about how you would tell Bucky who had been hurting you and what you had learned and remembered.

“Sugar? Everything alright?” Bucky’s gravelly voice cuts the silence. 

“Yeah, just another nightmare.” 

“Mmm.” Bucky walks up and places his hands on your hips. You can feel his body warmth against your back. “Want to talk about it?” 

Turning around you look up into his concerned blue eyes. You knew you had to tell him but you were scared at his reaction. Bucky pulls you into his chest, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing manner. 

“I remember everything.” You mumble while blinking back tears. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“It’s ok Sugar. I know this part is difficult, remembering any part of it. Just tell me what you want, if you want too.” 

“I remember the voice.” You start by saying. “I remember everything she told me, it was horrible.” 

“She?” Bucky racked his brain trying to remember any high ranking female hydra officers but he couldn’t. 

You pulled back to look at him, the truth was on the tip of your tongue but the weight of it kept you from talking. Bucky cupped your face and tilted your head so that you would look at him again. Your gaze was starting to unfocus and he called your name softly. One warm and one cold hand grounding you in reality. You weren’t strapped to that table anymore. There wasn’t a room full of men ripping you apart and figuring out the best way to put you back together. No, you are safe now. In the arms of the man that loved you and who might despise you in a moment. 

“You’ll hate me.” 

Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion. There was a chance you weren’t coherent due to the surgery and medications. 

“I could never hate you, Sugar.” 

You blinked up at him owlishly while studying Bucky’s face. It might be the last time that he looked at you with so much love. With your hands wrapped around his wrists you take a deep breath. It was now or never. 

“My mom.” Bucky tilts his head but waits for you to continue talking. “She’s the voice. She was the one in charge.” 

You felt him stiffen.

“Your mother is hydra? Is your father? Your siblings?” A bit of panic in his tone.

You shook your head as he pulled away. He paced back and forth on the balcony. 

“How? Why? I don’t understand.” 

“Apparently all of the family on her side was hydra. But that’s not all.” You started crying then. Bucky stopped and looked at you. 

“My great grandfather and grandfather they were both-“ you struggled to get the words out. It hurt to think that two of the people you loved the most were created at the hands of your family members.

“They what?” 

You flinched slightly at the sharpness of his tone. 

“They were both part of the winter soldier program and of developing the program for Henry, Charlotte and the boys.”

Bucky stared at you with slight horror. He takes a step away from you and then another. 

“She was horrible. The things she told me.” You start to sob. “What she did to me as a kid was nothing compared to what she did this time.” You turn away from him and lean on the railing again. “The plans she had for me were evil. Having me hurt Charlotte and Henry was a fail safe plan. She knew it would kill me if they were hurt.” You hide your face in your hands and continue to cry over everything. 

The sight of you crying over the things your family has done breaks Bucky’s heart. You flinch when you feel his hand on your back.

“Sugar, it’s over.” 

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “She’s still out there. It’s not over until she’s dead.” You turn to look at him again with a pained expression. “As long as she’s alive we’ll never have peace.” 

“We will. I promise you we will.” 

Bucky pulls you into his chest and lets you cry until you can’t anymore. He had to put his feelings aside for the moment, this wasn’t about him and it wasn’t your fault. Deep down he knows you aren’t like the monster that your mother is, and neither is your family. 

From the moment you told Henry you had to go to Wakanda he had been anxiously awaiting your return. He felt bad for not saying goodbye. It didn’t help that Charlotte called him out on ‘being mean to mama’ when you were already scared. All he wanted now was for you to come back so he could tell you that he didn’t mean it. He was scared too.

It also happened that he was sad at the thought that you would miss his first official birthday. It’s not that a party was the most important thing to him but Henry wanted to spend it together as a family. 

So on the actual day no one could coax him out of his room. Not Eddie, Luke, Molly or Steve and Sam. Not even Lottie could convince him to go up to his party. 

“But bubba is so nice. You habe fun.” Lottie rubbed his back in a comforting manner as he lay facing the wall. 

“I don’t want to have a birthday party. You go and have fun baby.” 

Lottie huffs in annoyance. “Kay.” She says as she walks out and closes the door. 

A few minutes later there’s another knock and the door opens. 

“I said I don’t want to go to the party.” Henry’s tone is stern.

“That’s ok sweet boy. What if we do something else, just the four of us?” 

Henry sits up, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he turns towards the door.

“Mama, you’re back.” He says between choked sobs. Henry hops off the bed and runs into your waiting arms. “I’m sorry mama, I didn’t wanna be mean.” 

“I know bubs. We were both scared.” 

“I love you mama.”

“I love you too.” You kiss the top of his head and hug him for as long as he needs too. Pulling back, you cup his face with both of your hands. “Happy birthday.”

Soon he pulls away and moves to hug Bucky. 

“Happy birthday bubs.” 

“Thanks. Did you know they were coming back today?” Henry turns to look at Lottie who is giving him a mischievous smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Is a suwpwise. Duh.” Lottie rolled her eyes. 

“When did she learn how to do that?” You whisper to Bucky. 

“She spent way too much time with Nat and Sofia.” 

“Oh great.” You mutter. “So what do you say sweet boy, party or family hang out?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you rest?” 

“I had all the rest I needed for now. Besides your dad and I made sure to pick a good theme for your birthday. Are you sure you don’t want to go see it at least?” 

“You picked it?” Henry asks while looking at both of you wide eyed. 

“Of course. Well it was your dad’s idea. I wish I would have been able to plan it though.” You gave Henry a sad smile.

“I wanna go to the party.” He says excitedly.

“Let’s go then.”

****

As always Tony out did himself. The largest of the shared living rooms had been turned into a fully functioning arcade. All types of retro arcade games were set up around the room, one of the bars had been turned into a prize booth and even the lighting was perfect. Anything you could find in an arcade you found here and there were even some of Henry’s favorite things available too.

There were banners hanging up that said ‘gamers don’t age, they level up’. Henry was wide eyed as he looked around and found that all of his favorite people were there including Sam’s nephews and Clint’s older son. Still it wasn’t packed with people which you greatly appreciated.

“Can I go play?” Henry looked up at you and Bucky.

“Of course bubs, it’s your birthday.” Bucky nods. 

“I’ll find you later. C’mon baby let’s go.” 

Bucky slips a hand around your waist as you watch the kids run further into the room. He leads you a bit further in but you stop him and nod in the direction of the bar.

“What in the world is going on there?” You were referring to Steve talking with Bruce’s new assistant. 

They looked like complete opposites. Steve was animated and smiling while she was a bit more guarded, a bored expression on her face. Still there was a bit of lightness in her eyes as she looked at Steve. You wondered how it started and what it was in the first place. 

“Don’t worry Sugar, we’ll find out soon enough.”

“You can’t tease him about it.” 

“I won’t make a promise I don’t intend to keep.” Bucky says with a chuckle.

Just then Steve turns around just to take in the room and his whole face lights up when he sees you. You watch as he excuses himself and walks over to you.

“When did you get back?” He asks as he gives you both hugs. 

“A few minutes ago. We wanted to surprise Henry.”

“So I’m assuming everything went well.” 

“Yeah. I remembered everything. There’s-“ you sigh, your features darkening for a moment. “There’s someone from hydra still out there.” 

“You sure? We haven’t gone through all of the files yet.” 

“Trust me, there’s someone missing on the list of detainees.” Bucky adds. “But we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now we are here to celebrate.”

You smile up at him. Although the serum had healed all of the surgical incisions your body was still exhausted from the three months of hell you lived through, the surgery and the emotional rollercoaster too. So you decided on taking it easy. You walked through the room, finding your family or the team and talking. Sitting and just enjoying being back home. 

****

“I’m going to win you a prize Sugar. Pick whatever teddy bear you want.” Bucky says with a smirk. 

“I want that teddy that looks like you.” You point at the stuffie that had a black and gold arm. 

“You got it.” 

Bucky heads to the basketball game and shoots nothing but net. He ends up getting so many tickets he can get you the bear. 

“Is this how you used to woo the girls you dated back in the 30s?” You asked as you hugged the bear to your chest. 

“Maybe.” 

You smile and kiss his cheek. “Thanks for my new sleeping buddy. I’m sure he’ll keep me safe.” 

“What? There’s no way a stuffed bear is replacing me.” 

“But he’s so cute and cuddly.” 

“Sugar.” He gave you a halfhearted glare. 

You kiss his cheek, laughing before you disappear between some of the arcade games with Bucky grumbling behind you. Charlotte and Olivia run past you, each of them holding some cotton candy and giggling. Henry is sitting at a racing game with Sam in the seat next to him, both of them competing for first place. 

“You can’t use your own hammer, Point Break.” Tony tells Thor. 

“But the objective is to hit these creatures.”

“You’re supposed to wack, not obliterate.”  

You chuckle and shake your head as you walk past them and find your dad hanging out in the lounge area with a drink in hand. He pats the empty seat beside him and you take it, immediately resting your head on his shoulder. After making sure you’re ok, Bucky leaves to find Steve and challenge him in a game of pool.

“How are you feeling, kitten? Do you need to go up and rest? I’m sure Henry wouldn’t mind if you went and had a nap.” Eddie said.

“No, I'm ok. As long as I’m not pushing myself physically I’ll be fine. I’ve already missed so much.” 

The two of you sit there for a while just watching everyone enjoy the party. Eddie just says something once in a while but mostly you sit in silence. It was nice but it felt surreal. Now you had a better understanding of why Bucky hated crowds. The space felt suffocating, as if all eyes were on you and every whispered conversation was about you. Maybe they were waiting for you to break. But it wouldn’t happen tonight. This night was reserved for Henry and he deserved a good birthday.

****

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.” Everyone stood around the birthday cake which was made to look like a huge video game controller, singing. 

Bucky held Lottie while you had your hands resting on Henry’s shoulders. 

“Happy birthday dear Henry, happy birthday to you.” 

“Blow out your candles and make a wish.” You whisper.

Henry looks back at you with a smile. An innocence you’d barely seen in him since he was rescued. There was pure joy on his face as he turned to look at his dad and sister. He turns back to the cake and blows the candles out. Everyone cheers and you kiss the top of his head. You pull him back as Molly and Wanda begin to cut the cake. Soon enough everyone has a piece.

****

“You have a mess on your face sweet angel.” You say while trying to wipe Lottie’s face clean with a napkin. 

“No mama.” Lottie pulls away, sticking her tongue out to try and lick away the frosting around her lips. Then she takes another spoonful of cake and shovels it in her mouth. “Habe some, mama.” She takes another spoonful and holds it up for you.

“No thank you, baby. I already had some.” 

“Is kay mama. Habe some, is so yummy.” 

You huff a laugh and accept the spoonful Lottie had offered you. She smiles before turning her attention back to her slice. This was very reminiscent of the night she called you mama for the first time. She was sitting on your lap yet again with a huge mess on her face. Everyone sat around talking and having a good time. This time though, Henry sat next to you and your family was here. Memories like this is what you would cling to in order to keep the nightmares at bay.

After a while the party calmed down. People were still playing video games but the atmosphere was more relaxed. You couldn’t fight the exhaustion anymore so you went to find Henry. He was waiting his turn to play dance, dance revolution. 

“Hey birthday boy.” You tousled his hair to get his attention.

“Hey mama. Do you want to play this?” 

“No it’s ok. I am going to go upstairs and lay down. I’m tired.”

Henry looked at the game and back at you unsure of what to do. 

“I’m not saying you have to leave the party, baby. I’m just letting you know so you don’t think I left you, ok?” You caress his cheek and smile. 

“Are daddy and baby going with you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m just going to lay down for a little bit. Your dad and Lottie will still be running around. I’ll try to come back down later.” 

“It’s ok mama.” Henry gives you a hug. “Thank you for coming back for my birthday.” 

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” You kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

“Ok mama.” 

You watch as Henry gets up to select what he wanted to dance to before looking for Bucky. You find him with Luke, Olivia and Charlotte on the balcony. The girls were admiring the twinkling lights of the city as night fell while Bucky and Luke had a conversation. You go up to them and let them know you’re going to be leaving the party. Bucky takes your hand and gives your knuckles a quick kiss before watching you walk away.

At some point after you had fallen asleep Bucky  joined you in bed. The weight of his arm around your waist and the soft rise and fall of his chest against your back brought you comfort. You couldn’t, however, fall back asleep. As quietly and quickly as you could you slid out of bed and out of the room. You needed some fresh air so you slid the door to the balcony open and stepped outside. 

“Mama?” Henry asks from the door. 

You turn, surprised to see him awake at whatever time it was. He walks towards you, rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the back of his hand. You open your arms for him. 

“I was calling you, didn’t you hear me?” He asks as he leans into your warm embrace.

“I’m sorry sweet boy, I guess I was just thinking too much.” 

“It’s ok. Why are you out here? Aren’t you cold?” Henry presses himself closer to you.

“Not really but let's go inside.”

You head to the living room and get comfortable on the couch. Henry lays down and rests his head on your lap. Immediately you start playing with his hair while he holds your free hand. 

“When do you know if a birthday wish worked, mama?” 

“Well I think it depends on what you wished for. If it was something big then it could take some time.” You look down at him. “Why?” 

“I just want my wish to work fast.” 

“What did you wish for, sweet boy?” 

Henry sits up and faces you. “I wished for you to not feel scared like I was when I got here.” 

“Oh baby, you didn’t have to use your wish on that. I’ll get better little by little I promise.” Henry’s revelation made you tear up just a bit.

“I know. I just wanted to help you like you and daddy and baby always help me.” 

You smile at him then pull him in for a hug. 

“You are helping me, sweet boy. Just by being here with me right now and giving me some cuddles.” 

“I can do that.” 

“I know you can. I love you so much my sweet, sweet boy.” You kiss the top of his head before getting comfortable on the couch. 

“I love you too mama. I missed you so much.” Henry whispers.

“I missed you too.” 

Henry ends up cuddled up on your lap. His face is buried in the crook of your neck. Soft snores fill the quiet room. Your hold on him is strong and you struggle to not think about the things he must have gone through now that you have experienced some of them. 

The two of you stay on the couch until the morning when you’re woken up. Charlotte, wanting to be included in some cuddles, hopped up on the couch and found a spot on your lap before practically falling asleep again. For the next few weeks it’s the same routine. You wake up due to the nightmares and someone always finds you. The kids comfort you by cuddling on the couch, Bucky by letting you cry on his shoulder. 

It was true what Bucky had said, it wouldn’t be easy but you would manage. Your life would be slightly different now but you had a reason to keep pushing forward. You had good days and you had bad days but you pushed through it all. There was lost time you needed to make up with the kids and you intended to do just that. 

Ch. 33

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[the-fandom-abyss]

The Other Ghostface

Amber Freeman x Reader

Genre: Angst ❀/Fluff ♡

Word Count: 1,978 words

Warnings: blood, ghostface attack, violence, Richie because I feel like he needs one 🤷🏻‍♀️

The hospital was desolate come the afternoon. Nurses tucked away at their stations, monitoring the winding halls of various floors. One would think they were short staffed by the amount of times you clocked a nurse walk past. It was enough to count on one hand, if that. A police officer was stationed outside the door, in hopes to protect Tara and Sam from another attack. He didn't seem too worried as his eyes scanned his phone for his newest love interest. So when you ventured out of Tara's room in search of snacks, he missed the dark shadow that followed you.

The hum of the machine filled the otherwise empty hallway, offering a variety of snacks to choose from. The glow lit the white walls that surround you, creating a reflection on the glass. When a flicker passed behind you, it was your turn to watch your back. In the moments it took to turn around, the presence behind you had their hands gripped on your shoulders. In one swift movement, they had thrown you against the wall like you were nothing. A thud vibrated as your back and head slammed against the wall, leaving you crumpled on the floor. Adrenaline started to kick in at the familiar sight before you. Black boots, black cloak, black gloves and a mask that haunted the town you called home. They tilted their head at your state, calculating their next move. Flight was the only option, you weren't strong enough to compete with that and you did not dare to try. By the time you scrambled to your feet, Ghostface was ready to plunge their knife into your side. A scream ripples from your throat at the searing pain. Body frozen in the moment, scared that one twitch will move the blade inside of you.

A meek "Amber" escaped your lips, wide eyes staring at the black soul looking back at you. The mask shook, signalling that you had guessed wrong.

"I'm not Amber" the voice crackled to life, deep, dark and heavily modulated. The statement sending shivers down your spine. For all you knew it was Amber who reclaimed the prolific, alone. This had to be her which made this situation a lot worse.

"Please, let me live" a pathetic attempt at a plea, knowing that if Amber can go this far, she can go further. At the very least, you'll give her exactly what she wants, a show.

"You are so pathetic, begging for your life like it's important" Ghostface mocked, enjoying how you had become putty in their hands. They slowly twisted the knife, proving their point. A smaller scream found solace in the empty hallway, blood further coating your outfit. It trailed down your abdomen, leaving tracks down your lower body.

"Amber" one last plea should please the woman under the mask. The wound was enough to prove you weren't a suspect, you were merely a useless victim. When all you received was a throaty laugh in return, you knew that you truly had no clue what was happening. Their free hand grasped the bottom of the mask, pulling it above their head. When a masculine figure was revealed, it all clicked into place. This was not Amber, it was her minion that she neglected to mention. She let you believe it was a one woman show to gather the element of surprise.

"Richie?"

"That's right, the man that Amber deserves" even with the sharp weapon lodged in your side, you felt the need to roll your eyes at his statement. This angered the man, slamming you back against the wall. "She was too weak to harm you, but had no issue asking me to end your life"

"She wouldn't" without hesitation, he retracts the knife only to add another wound just below it. He leans close to your ear, his breath fanning over your neck.

"Oh she would. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her" another harsh movement pulls the knife out, Richie intent on initiating the final attack. A sickly grin spreads across his features, relishing in the doe eyed expression looking back at him. Using the last of your adrenaline, you kicked him in the groin, causing him to hunch over in pain. Without a second thought, you ran as fast as you could back to Tara's room, back to the safety of others. A trail of blood was the only evidence that a crime had been committed. Ghostface had disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

When the elevator doors opened, Sam observed the bloody mess in front of her. Her eyes followed the trail resembling a crime scene to discover you in the middle. She sprinted toward your bloodied body, screaming for help as loud as she could. The moments after became a blur as you slipped in and out of consciousness. A beat of black occurred only to be interrupted by consistent beeps, stirring you from your slumber. The bed felt wrong, the air smelled sterile, the sounds were confusing, it startled you. In a fright, you launched forward, aggravating the wounds you had sustained. A pained groan left your throat as your hands instinctively grasped at your wounds. At the sudden movement, Sam was up and out of her chair, ready to help in anyway she could.

"Woah, hey, it's okay, you're okay" Her voice filtered through the noise, hoping to ground you to this moment. Her hand wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you closer to her. She could feel how your muscles tensed at the physical affection, clearly traumatised from the earlier events. "Would you like me to let go?" She questioned, wanting to pass the control back to you. A weak shake of your head encouraged her to wrap you fully in a hug. After what she had seen, it will be very hard for her to let you go. It was when the door opened wide mixed with the noise of the wood bouncing of the stopper, that separated you both. One out of pure fear for the next attack and the other ready to defend at any given moment.

A very disheveled Amber stood at the entrance with wide eyes, tussled hair and laboured breaths. She looked like she had raced through every red light and ran up multiple flights of stairs just to reach you. The sight would have been endearing, if the attack was not replaying in your mind. How this could have all been part of her plan. That she had asked Richie to carry out your death like you had meant nothing. You couldn't decide what was worse, the act itself or the utter betrayal you felt.

"Are you okay?" Without a second thought, she rushed to your side, ignoring Sam as she eyed her carefully.

"No" the tone in which you spoke showed a side that Amber had yet to see. It was cold and blunt which contradicted your usual warm and happy tone.

"Can we have a moment alone?" Amber conjured her most friendly voice, in hopes that Sam would just leave.

"I don't think that's a good idea" Sam narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to your side. Amber was known for choosing her battles poorly and she truly believed she could take on Sam.

"And why's that?" She countered back, standing tall to add height to her defence.

"Because you were unaccounted for during the attack, again. How can I be so sure you're not the killer?" Sam noticed how you tensed, eyes averting to the sheets below. She thought it was due to the attack, not that she was completely correct in her statement.

"You think I would hurt Y/N?"

"Can't be too sure"

"You're insane"

"Says the killer"

"Enough" Both of your hands landed heavily against the bed, signalling the stand off to be over. "Sam it's okay, I can do this" you didn't miss the way Amber looked at you, eyebrows creased in confusion. She was under the impression that Sam did not care for you, turns out she was wrong.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure"

"Well I'll be right outside if you need me"

"Thank you" Sam placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, squeezing your hand in the process. She slowly walked past Amber, watching her closely as she left the room. All Amber did was roll her eyes at the action, like Sam could stop her if she really wanted to kill you. But that was besides the point.

“What happened?” She asked like she hadn’t the faintest idea of who or what could have done this.

“You know exactly what happened” you seethed, Amber could see the fear and anger swirling behind your eyes.

“I actually don’t, so why don’t you tell me?” Her patience was wearing thin, she was not one for push back. This may be a new side of you but Amber was not dealing with it, not right now at least.

“Richie”

“Don’t act stupid, it doesn’t suit you Amber”

“How do you know it was him?”

“He made some grand speech then revealed himself”

“He took off the mask?!” The shock was evident in her voice and that infuriated you. She was more worried about her boy toy revealing himself than her partner being stabbed to death.

"That's what you take away from all this?! Not that I could have died, or the fact you neglected to tell me there was an accomplice, or that you orchestrated the whole thing so you could avoid the blame" The tone in which you whisper shouted was full of rage. Even Amber could sense that she had gone about this all wrong.

"Baby I would never hurt you, and I would never be so cowardice to ask someone to harm you for me. He was talking shit, trying to turn you against me. Don’t listen to him, you’re stronger than that” she tucked a strand behind your ear, before her hand cradled your cheek. Her thumb stroking in hopes to calm you, bring you back to her.

“You should have told me” clearly defeated, you rested your head in her hand, allowing her to get closer to you. In the best way possible, you were now hugged tightly against Ambers chest, her fingers running through your hair and soothing your worries.

“I know, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. You’re not exactly the best actor” a moment of silence passed, both in deep thought that came with an attack like this. For you, you were walking a thin line between trust and double cross. With what had happened you didn’t know what to believe and that is more nerve wracking than the actual attack. For Amber, she was stewing inside over Richie’s actions. How dare he hurt you like you were a throw away character? You were the endgame, the one that Amber wants by her side when she’s claimed as the survivor. She would make Richie pay for his actions, even if that meant a gruesome death.

"I'm going to kill him" Amber stated, her inner thoughts seeping out into her vocal cords.

"Not unless I do it first" a chuckle vibrated from Ambers chest. The anger she once had turning into one of love and awe. How did she get so lucky to have you?

"Fuck baby, you know all the right things to say" you looked up at her in such a way that she could fall in love with you all over again. It was what you said next that really solidified that you were her one and only.

"How about we pin this all on him? Skip the final act and make it seem that it was all his idea. We kill him, we survive and live on victorious"

"I like the sound of that"

"Where do we start?"

[thesecretattic]

ANOTHER COINCIDENCE More revelation (God, images etc) LAST NOTE before dying:

My hands otherwise have a beautiful shape but I’ve got hyperpigmentation near the elbows and even as a kid I was very conscious (ignore my typos pls I can’t type I’m not in that state) I wud avoid wearing sleeveless as a kid and I was even mocked for hiding it as a grown up, I saw another blogger having that and it seemed normal, she wouldn’t hide it… in today times some are breaking these beauty standards while others are revelling in superficiality, I never stalked Harsh after 2016 Feb (there was some fanclub which led me to Jiya in Oct 2022) in his phone pics I had noticed that his arms were looking like that too from down (mine is also only in and around the elbow region external) and I thought he was like me, that’s why I chose him I didn’t know he was fair (until last year)

I have those old pics in my previous laptop it was the camera’s fault, I thought he was like me and then all those signs and coincidences suggested that he was my soulmate www.lilacnights.com/post/stupid-cupid

I have this intrinsic naturally occurring love for him which has overlooked and justified (vindicated) everything till now like an exception, that makes me believe we are soulmates, I also knew his moustache pic, the fiery eyed shot and the other face long before I’d seen it which is impossible, I always had it in mind. They say your soulmate is the one whom you’ll recognise, I never thought it meant that in LITERAL SENSE like for real! I’ll tell you which one or which phase I was the most attached to, without seeing it (I never saw him after 2016 Feb but I came across these images at some point and I was surprised cuz I always had those faces in mind) anyway the fiery eyed was the one I was the most attached to, except for the demonic eyes. It was a shot from some show idk which one it was associated with his old number which now belongs to some Bhavsar community.

All after meeting Harsh I don’t want to blame him but I would always say I deserved the way my hand would be pulled and twisted during childhood and teens it could’ve easily caused carpel tunnel the nerves would get crushed and pulled I would feel choked and I would scream in pain it was stretched beyond limit but I would swallow it all with my tears hoping one day someone will come and my life would be the opposite but 8 years of my youth went here in the same house which is a SHAME.

I felt like I deserved it due to that part after how he behaved with me, I’m dying and I feel my soul is suffering today and dying without my soulmate because of the exterior and it deserves to be punished, it deserves that pain. Secondly when I said charming in my previous post (regarding that other guy the “cute” post) ppl completely forgot that I had stated long back in one of my quote cards: “I never wanted a Prince Charming, I always wanted Robin Hood” But I had to make people realise that even though girls can easily fall for cute lisp waale sweet talking sugarcoated charmers, do we? Do we leave someone for a rich and charming guy like tht? Is it so easy to change our mind? I wanted to move on later cuz Harsh didn’t want me and I was forcing my myself to like other people but tht guy wasn’t good so I didn’t fall either way, if however “Harsh” would’ve liked me I wouldn’t have left him for that boy, as a soulmate I always loved and respected him. And back then I wasn’t even aware that he was my soulmate, I didn’t have so many signs.

Scary Part

Last but not the least here are a few more things: I am a bit scared I kept asking why all this happened and somewhere some fortune site suggested I was a Guinea pig in God’s experiment where he wanted to see how much a human can survive without dying (his creation) by putting him through immense torture and suffering, remember some counsellor had said “Your threshold was crossed long ago at 17 itself you’ve faced more than anyone I’ve met before…” she had said that in 2016 after that things took a turn for worse and now I’ve faced more than anyone even in hell. He wanted to see for how long his “creation” could survive without dying on their own (without any illness or accident) but lots of grief, unfairness, immense torture, heartbreaks, affliction, cruelty etc. which is worse than murder cuz it’s a slow death based on intense torture or trauma (even in my chronic pain syndrome which is called fibromyalgia my pressure points were tortured with knuckles and fists and I have other Neuro issues too now due to him and everyone cuz he too was in fact even now, is a constant source of stress) But just because God placed me amongst narcissists - they all share the same attitude, same traits same ignorance and blocking even my family members and Preet Harsh they all even share the same birthdate! My mother, Harsh’s mother and even Preet they are all born on 21st Dec, just because he placed me amongst such people it doesn’t mean THEY SHOULD HAVE BEHAVED LIKE THAT and aided god in his plan. How cruel? As people we could’ve stuck together, after me it will be their turn. I’m not here to say I’m gonna live with that or I’ll be good to “myself” if people are cruel, why? Everyone else has someone or the other? Why should I be with myself? I don’t want to live I always loved him a lot and I loved his old self too even if I miss that Harsh whom I knew in 2015 and I’ll always cry cuz I missed out on him I missed out on the most previous years of both of our lives which will NEVER come back that’s why I feel my body deserves all that abuse and pain cuz it was all because I fell short of the mark… I should’ve been perfect, the prettiest the best looking out of all (I didn’t know what he looked like go read that part again)

I don’t have stamina to explain further and I’ve already shared why girls shouldn’t have so much pressure to look good (in my PREVIOUS post) I will always hate and blame myself even after dying cuz I lost someone I couldn’t imagine losing he was the MOST IMPORTANT to me, I have no future now I’m bed ridden and there’s no help, I tried to look my best for him inspite of what I’ve shared in my previous post and the fact that due to PMS & Ovulation (Almost 14+5 days of the month) and growing stress related illnesses which females are more prone to such as autoimmune one’s and Fibro + a different metabolic and hormonal system it’s difficult for us to be perfect, this includes the hair fibre, the skin, the weight, our nerves and sensitivity, haemoglobin count, cortisol level, sebum level, ph levels, I think Indian men should be taught this in science books instead of how daffodils and plants mate or how pollens are formed, basic science like I said - It hurts girls so they have to be aroused and for that 99% of the girls aren’t interested in male parts so these men need to be attractive NOT women, we have assets we don’t need that face or body it anyway doesn’t hurt men at least that doesn’t happen in their case. Even flower buds don’t open easily, so STOP digging ur head in that stupid science book like raffish disgusting pervy teen that you are and start UNDERSTANDING how things work, in India girls have no choice they have to settle on the man who chooses us! And 80% of them are not even men they are flabby pansy/effeminate “jolly” hubby material, no one wants that! How can we get aroused? No face no body and it’ll hurt us then, they are so dull and average even on the intellectual level they lack sophistication or even basic knowledge about things how will we communicate on the same level? And there’s a reason why we have the word “Rape”. Wth? I wasn’t born for this, they are not my responsibility STOP breeding them. Boys here are not taught all this No one works on their personality they NEVER grow into “Men” they end up getting pansy or feminine due to overpampering. I’m not here for all this nonsense. I have ONLY loved one man in my entire life and he didn’t even have a gym body he’s very lean he’s not muscular like certain pics (from that Saloni vid 🥺😢) but at least he’s not girly! Or that rolly polly jolly “hubby” material and girls are expected to instantly sleep with such people what is this modern day kotha? My mother did say one thing which was true - yes girls do feel like that as if they are in some red light area, they are treated that way even as housewives for money or monthly maintenance and it’s not easy for girls to work even in abroad, two girls had the same complain while travelling at night through a bullet train (regarding molestation) they were shocked, maximum foreigners are very good at hiding I know so many of them they are just doing blogging as a hobby and it’s their husbands who earn I’m not going to be foolish enough, I wanted to design homes for people but you can’t entirely rely on that, you need to find a safe and secure workplace, I’ve met such horrible managers and stuff even married ones at 21 itself I know how cringey it is.

You can’t rely on these things, I know someone from my childhood days (not that bully friend) she doesn’t have fibro or anything like me but her parents gave asked her to stop working cuz she faints and gets low pressure she’s internally weak and delicate like me, and like I just said for girls (all the health related things which I’ve mentioned above) it’s not easy to work so much.

I’m not a pseudo feminist to say I don’t want maternity leave I don’t want any break if I’m sick I’m just like my male colleagues, NO I’m a girl and secondly the reason why somehow e’s guys get more pay than us because their entire family depends on them and their wives are more busy with the kids so they don’t work moreover like I said it’s not easy for all females to work, they have shared this multiple times, they are the sole bread winner in the family so even their kids rely on them. A lot of Girls (single) who are earn as much as 80k fight for the remaining 10k difference between them and their male colleagues, as kids there were times when we would think several times before ordering a dessert, that “10k” will not even cover the basic school fees (in today’s times) of your colleague’s children. Coming back to the main topic I have missed him a lot in all these 8 years and I love him I wish I would’ve been likeable, I never wanted him to feel old I just can’t stop hating myself I loved him even if he would’ve had wrinkles unfortunately whether alive or dead I’ll always love him even in old age… which is very hurtful for me, cuz he hates me and he likes other people, he was my soulmate 53-23 were mine and his marriage signs they are always seen in pairs I have seen so many of them since the past few days that too TOGETHER 🧿 It all started with a fortune reading (but I had received Zara Rajput sign and a few more long ago) The reading said something when I asked where will I meet my future husband and it said something which suggested that I have already met him and it was right we had met on 2nd April right there on an app and it had a word directly linked to that, and then it also indicated - SOMEONE IN THEIR 30s matured and the card stood for artists, poets, writers and actors (batons are for those who are into agriculture or farming, property/construction etc. anything to do with soil where you dig a baton stick, swords indicate medicine, law firms, doctors, scientists, anything that requires incisive intellect, cups are for writers, artists, designers, painters, actors, who are more emotional and expressive and pentacles or coins are obviously for businessmen, traders, bankers etc.) ever since that care came up as in someone in their 30s and from one of those fields mentioned above BEFORE the brackets I thought it was someone else, he too would’ve been in his 30s now + into acting because Harsh was impossible I had not met that other guy on that app which it indicated but I had met him there later on… but then I started seeing 53 23 in association with that and 5 is Harsh’s number, 2 is mine.

The devil or whoever/God whoever is doing this is now scaring me more using Harsh by showing me 37 cuz they know that I had last kept 37 age which he is approaching (as he is older than me) as a deadline they know I will keep hoping and then die with another nightmare coming true, and even when/if I had lost all hope I’ve been seeing that cuz they reminded me of it. I don’t know whom to trust. They are USING Harsh cuz they know how he or his family is, they know they are not at all like that and this will only torture me more, someone else should have come and erased my memory with the help of a hypnotist to defeat God and his plan cuz Harsh will do exactly why God has put me in his life as his contrast inspite of being my soulmate he will be very rude and stubborn and he will make sure God succeeds in turning me into a laughing stock, he will do exactly that and I will end up facing more grief and haplessness and I might die which will finish God’s experiment.

The story behind these coincidences was also important it’s shocking, but I have no help or anyone to jot it down. I’m dying by leaving a clue… it said Equinox that word recently came up, it aligns with whatever conclusion I had reached, Scientists too have come up with a similar theory but they couldn’t prove it, I can… Chinese philosophers almost reached a “saying” which will now FIT here, it explains why God is Evil or why we have so much unfairness in this world or why even kids are suffering. IT HAS ALL THE ANSWERS. I had met Harsh on 2nd Oct and 2nd April Equinox had multiple 2s too, and it’s an EXACT dividend I had already reached that point, and it unfolded everything, it explains each and every dream I’ve had as a kid or every coincidence even the bizarre ones related to Preet which is there in my pinned post on Tumblr: TheSecretAttic in the link there amidst my renovation stuff, it’s burning inside my HEAD ITS PAINING a lot I have to die to end this I have no one to share my story with… people were too proud to even hear it, their loss I’ll leave them to this God.

Btw STOP categorising girls as creeps it’s our worst nightmare they are our biggest threat just cuz I got his address it doesn’t mean I’m that I NEVER even went to his house I only sent my gifts through my mom and the driver, I never went there to “meet” him or even near his building to stalk or pry on him in fact I HAD STOPPED going to his area even to the malls cuz he had made me very conscious so I didn’t want him to see and hate me more, it’s other people’s fault who call us also creeps and who inspite of me sharing my number didn’t reach out even for the book, they could have STOP creeping zoning others and yourself, I was ready to move on with someone else since he didn’t want me, you can’t blame me in any manner, it’s all YOU PEOPLE’S fault stop justifying your own superficiality by saying she herself didn’t want to move on or you would’ve looked like a creep pr like me by approaching me and seeing if I needed help! I had to send the gifts to make up for the book and because I loved him and I had no idea if I would even survive so did to fomo I was trying to make the most of the life that was left in me and he would not receive gifts like other celebs YOU too could’ve thought about me (this wasn’t for him) instead of this “creep” thing. My number was always out.

I have to die before the last nail in the coffin which is 37 you know the story behind it I won’t live to see that day when my last hope which I had already lost will now return and mock me by showing me 37 everywhere until it will die, right before my eyes like another 5th Mar episode. I have to die before that no one else came along otherwise God/Devil would’ve lost and I would’ve survived you are responsible for my death Bye - Zara Sauleh

[saintlike78]

Tough love [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on my previous poly Marauders, it really means a lot! I’ve just been obsessing over poly Marauders fics recently and it had inspired me so much, so I really hope you love this as much as I do. Feedback is always appreciated!

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Non-Gryffindor! Reader

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Your “newly” established poly relationship with the three Marauders has you feeling many emotions. Sirius has always been one for though love and doesn’t often let his emotions show. In the start of your relationship, you have a hard time reading him and you think he doesn’t really like you and only is in the relationship because he wants to be the two other Marauders and you’re the catch/con that comes along.

Warnings: NSFW 16+, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mention of cum, praise kink, degradation, one singular spank, polyamorous relationship, soft dom! Remus, soft dom! James, dom! Sirius, Sirius being mean, mention of food, light angst to fluff, as always let me know if I missed anything.'

The sun was shining brightly through the windows of the great hall. You were sitting at the Gryffindor table with your three new boyfriends. Remus and Sirius were across from you and James beside you, with a hand on your thigh, never wanting to not be touching you. Your right foot was between Remus’, him also not wanting to not be touching you. You had let your left foot be free so you could be touching Sirius as well, but he didn’t take. Looking under the table, being as subtle as possible, you saw James’ shoe-covered feet, one of them touching the side of Remus’ foot and the other one between Sirius’ but moved in a way so yours wouldn’t reach his. You looked up at the table again and saw that Sirius was holding Remus’ hand on top of the table.

Your three boys were laughing and talking, as they normally did, and you tried to keep a smile on your face and keep up with the conversation, but you couldn’t help the way your stomach dropped slightly at the thought that Sirius didn’t want to touch you.

“What do you think, Bunny?” Remus asked, all of their eyes suddenly on you.

You looked up and looked between their faces.

“Huh?”

Remus let out a small laugh, “I just said that because the weather is so nice, we could go to the lake after class and asked what you thought about the idea, but you were too busy being in bunny world huh?”

“Oh yeah, that sounds nice,” you answered with a small smile. You looked down at your plate again and started to pick at your food, not feeling particularly hungry anymore.

Remus looked at you in a confused manner and looked between James and Sirius, who both shrugged their shoulders.

“Alright, lake after class it is,” James announced with a grin.

______________________________

Holding onto Remus’ hand, you were all making your way towards the castle entrance, after having enjoyed all of the late afternoon at the lake, getting as much sun as possible.

Making your way up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower and Remus not letting go of your hand indicated that they wanted you to join them in their dorm room, which you did with no complaints.

As you made it to their room the door was shut firmly behind all of you and the boys didn’t waste time finding one of their beds to place you on and make hasty work of removing the minimal amount of clothes you were wearing.

You could feel arousal starting to churn in your belly as James kneeled at the foot of the bed and removed your lace panties. Remus had moved behind you and laid you on his chest as he removed your bra. He didn’t waste any time placing his hands on your breasts, as soon as they were freed, kneading them and making you let out a needy whine.

“A desperate little thing, aren’t you?” Sirius asked rhetorically as he ran a finger through your soaked folds.

James placed a finger at your entrance, slowly circling it, gathering your arousal before slowly letting it enter you. You let out a small gasp at the intrusion.

“Such a good girl,” James cooed, thrusting his finger in and out of you slowly before adding a second finger.

You moaned and grabbed Remus’ right wrist as he moved it to your throat.

“She’s no good girl... she’s just a desperate whore who’s only good for one thing, but not even that,” Sirius scoffed out as his thumb started to circle your clit.

Your eyes snapped up to look at his face, your stomach dropped, and you could feel light tears starting to gather in your eyes at the mean comment.

You wanted to be good for him and for him to like you as much as James and Remus did, but you felt like an imposter of some kind and that Sirius just wanted the part with you to be over.

Sirius felt your stare and removed his gaze from your clit which he was working his finger on. As soon as he met your eye you looked back at James, scared that Sirius would be annoyed at you for looking at him.

James picked up the speed of his fingers. The lewd squelching sounds filling the room, causing you to blush.

“Aww, are you feeling shy? You’re absolutely pathetic,” Sirius mocked, the first part faking pity and the second almost like you were being scolded.

James removed his fingers and stood at the foot of the bed.

“Alright darling, up you get,” he said and helped you up on your knees in front of him.

He leaned down and kissed you while cradling the back of your neck to keep you in place. Your hands found their way to his t-shirt covered chest and slowly worked their way up in his hair.

After some time, you pulled apart and looked behind you to observe your two other lovers.

Remus’ clothes had been removed and Sirius was lying beside him as they lazily made out. Sirius had Remus’ cock in hand and stroked it slowly, causing you to whine at the sight.

James chuckled slightly at your small whine, “what’s wrong darling? You want to be a part of it?”

You turned your head back towards James and nodded. He chuckled again and helped you turn your body fully towards the two boys.

Behind you, James made haste work of removing his own clothes and cleared his throat to gain the attention of the two others.

“Our darling is feeling a little left out,” James said as the two boys broke apart and looked towards you, “what is it you want to do pretty girl?”

You looked at Sirius who just rolled his eyes, so you quickly looked over to Remus. James had placed his hands on your shoulders for encouragement.

“Uhm... can I pl-please suck your cocks sirs?” You said almost in a whisper, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment from the question you had asked.

“Of course, you can, bunny, especially when you ask so nicely,” Remus replied and motioned for you to come closer to him in his seated form.

You settled between his legs and slowly took over for Sirius by grabbing Remus at his base and stroking just like Sirius had.

You leaned down and took his tip in your mouth, circling it with your tongue. Just as you were about to take more, a harsh slap was landed on your ass causing you to jolt forward and gag around Remus.

“Come on, get to it!” Sirius said as he sat down beside Remus again.

You quickly recovered and started bobbing your head up and down on Remus’ cock, not wanting Sirius to be more dissatisfied with you.

As you were working your mouth on Remus, you felt James rub his tip through your folds before slowly pushing in.

You moaned around Remus at the stretch and Remus groaned as he feels the vibrations on him.

James set a steady rhythm while holding your hips in a bruising grip.

You could tell by Remus’ increased breathing and the small twitch of his cock in your mouth that he was close. Probably due to Sirius having worked him up prior to you sucking him off.

“That’s it bunny, take it all,” Remus groaned out as he emptied himself in your mouth. You kept sucking, making sure to get every last drop.

You pulled off of him and out of instinct let your tongue fall out of your mouth to show that you had indeed swallowed everything.

“There’s a good bunny,” Remus said while caressing your cheek, making you lean more into his touch as your mouth hung open and moans spilling out.

Remus and Sirius maneuvered so Sirius could sit in front of you and get his turn.

You didn’t wait for instruction you simply put your head down towards his bright red cock and put it in your mouth. You could taste the salty pre-cum and used your tongue to spread it down his shaft.

Behind you, you could feel James’ thrusts picking up speed and becoming sloppier, which meant he was close. James found your clit with one hand and drew fast circles on it, wanting you to finish before him.

You moaned loudly at the feeling and gagged slightly when you felt Sirius’ head meet the back of your throat.

Sirius scoffed, “come on we’ve taught you better than that, you really are useless.”

“Sirius,” Remus said firmly, almost as a warning, him knowing that you weren’t so good at degradation if it wasn’t paired with praise.

“What? She just needs to learn, it’s not that hard,” Sirius fired back, talking like you weren’t even there.

You could feel your orgasm building, the burn in your stomach also starting to gather from trying to hold it until you were told otherwise.

“You’re doing so well darling, cum for us,” James said between grunts as his own orgasm approached.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your orgasm hit you, making you shake slightly and gag around Sirius again.

Your cunt squeezed and fluttered around James, prompting his own release.

You felt the warmth of his cum painting your insides and he rode it out slowly thrusting in you.

You grabbed Sirius’ thigh to ground yourself, but it was quickly slapped off.

“Did I say you could touch me with anything other than your mouth?” Sirius said, his tone feigning anger, but you took it as real anger and withdrew your hand back on the mattress and opted for the sheets to grab.

James pulled out and you could feel your mixed releases slowly run down your thighs.

Not long after Sirius started to grunt and moan softly. His release hit your tongue with no warning, but you still swallowed despite the slight gag you produced from it hitting the back of your throat.

Remus pulled you off of Sirius and wrapped his arms around you.

“You did so well, taking us all so well,” Remus said lowly in your ear.

“I’m going to lay you here and I’ll be right back to clean you up, alright?” Remus asked, even though it was more of a statement than a question.

You just nodded and were placed down on the mattress again as Remus got up to get his wand and a glass of water.

James went to gather clothes for all of you.

Remus returned and muttered a cleaning charm on all of you and handed you a glass of water, which you chugged and handed the glass back to Remus, who looked at you adoringly.

James returned with four shirts, three pairs of boxers, and a pair of clean panties that you had left with them for these situations.

You all quickly got dressed and you laid back down beside Sirius looking at him.

You didn’t actually meet his eyes and therefore missed the loving way he was staring at you, absolutely enchanted by you.

Out of instinct, you reached a hand up to caress his cheek, which you would normally do with James and Remus, but before you could make it to his face your hand halted and slightly twitched as you brought it back towards your chest.

You sat up quickly, not wanting to be in Sirius’ personal space.

“Uhm I just realized I forgot my wand in my own dorm, so I’ll just go get it and be right back,” you said quickly as you got out of bed and put back on the trousers you had been wearing to the lake.

“You don’t just want to get it tomorrow?” Sirius asked. You still didn’t meet his eye, not wanting to anger him.

“No, I’ll just get it now, that way I’ll also let you get a bit of a breather,” you said and dashed out of the room before any one of them could say anything more.

The three boys were left confused, and all looked between each other and the door you just left through.

“What the hell did she mean by that?” Sirius asked, sitting up on the bed.

“I’m not sure... maybe she needs a break from us?” James suggested.

“No, she usually wants to be close to us when we’re done and she said she would give us a break from her,” Remus pointed out, his brows knit together in confusion.

“You were quite mean towards her today, Pads,” Remus continued.

“She can handle it; she knows I don’t mean it,” Sirius replied.

“But does she really? You’ve been teasing her lately by not being affectionate towards her, what if she’s taking it as you being serious,” Remus stated.

“How long have you been doing this to her?” James asked all the attention now on Sirius.

“I don’t know, maybe a week or two, but it’s just because she gets all clingy when she’s needy and I want her to cling to me,” Sirius answered like he had been collecting data.

“But it hasn’t been working obviously, since she’s been clinging to James and me... Sirius, she probably thinks you’re mad at her or something,” Remus said with a sigh.

“She doesn’t know that this is your way of asking for affection! She needs reassurance,” James scolded lightly.

Sirius looked down at his hands, guilt bubbled up from deep inside.

“Well, I didn’t know, I thought she would tell me if it got to be too much,” Sirius said with a sad sigh.

“If she thinks you’re mad at her, I don’t think she’ll come back tonight... let’s check the map,” Remus said, already getting the map from his bedside table.

He set the map on the bed in front of Sirius and sat beside him, James on the other side.

Sirius muttered, “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

The map revealed itself and they all searched for you around the castle.

You weren’t in or near your own common room, neither were you close to Gryffindor tower.

“There!” James nearly shouted and pointed to your name in the astronomy tower.

“Alright let’s go,” Remus said, and the three boys left their room forgetting that they were only in boxers and a t-shirt.

You hadn’t forgotten your wand in your common room, it was tucked away in your bag that lay on the floor of the boy’s dorm.

You sat and looked at the view of the grounds as you sat with your legs dangling off the edge of the astronomy tower. You often came here to think or to just clear your head, it was peaceful.

You couldn’t help but think about what you were going to do. You obviously loved all three boys, but it broke your heart to think that maybe Sirius didn’t feel the same and you didn’t want to force him to be with you just because you wanted to be with him and the two others as well. You hadn’t noticed the tears until you felt one hit your hands. You especially hadn’t noticed the rushed footsteps that echoed up the stairwell, too lost in your thoughts.

The three boys stopped at the top of the stairs and looked out your figure sitting on the edge. You hadn’t turned around, so they knew you hadn’t heard them, even though they were panting and weren’t being particularly quiet.

“Puppy, are you okay?” Sirius’ voice startled you and you quickly tried to wipe away your tears with your hands.

The three boys made their way over to you. You thought that they would sit beside you, but instead, Sirius hooked his hands under your arms lifting you up and making you stand. You didn’t turn around like he expected you to, so he gripped both your arms and turned you around.

Sirius’ heart dropped when he noticed your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek and caressing it softly and angling your face, so you were forced to look at his face.

“Why didn’t you come back to the room, pup?” He asked softly giving you a gentle smile.

Your heart fluttered at the gentleness and care he was showing, but you didn’t want to get too excited and having it ripped away from you.

“Oh, uhm I just thought that maybe you needed some space and just wanted to be you, boys, alone,” you said quietly looking between the three of them as James and Remus came to stand on either side of you.

“Why would we need space from you? We love spending time with you,” James asked, the confused tone evident in his voice.

Your cheeks were burning red with embarrassment, not wanting to air out your insecurities.

“What’s wrong, puppy? You can tell us,” Sirius urged.

You let out a nervous breath and tried to avoid his eyes, but when you looked away from Sirius you would be looking at either James or Remus, so there was nowhere to look but down.

“I-I just feel l-like that I’m in the way of you guys’ relationship,” you breathed out, still looking down, “I know you want to be with Remus and James and that I’m kinda just there as well, but I don’t want to force you to be with me as well if you don’t want to,” you mumbled the last part quietly aimed towards Sirius, but the three boys heard you loud and clear.

Sirius was quick to grab your face and make you look up into his eyes.

“That is absolute nonsense, of course, I want to be with you! What would make you think that I wouldn’t?” Sirius rushed out, not letting go of your face.

“Uhm… you don’t really like touching me and you haven’t really talked to me for about two weeks, and you call me pathetic and useless,” you say quietly, your voice breaking as tears start forming in your eyes.

“oh puppy,” Sirius said sadly as he realized how much his teasing had affected you.

“I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I want to be with you just as much as I want to be with these two idiots,” Sirius said, which earned him a swat at the back of his head by Remus and a swat on his arm from James.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want to be with you… I just wanted to tease you so you would be clingier towards me,” Sirius admitted.

You cocked your head to the side slightly, confused by his statement.

“Yeah… Sirius has a weird way of showing affection and an even weirder way of letting us know that he wants affection,” Remus said with a light chuckle. “But we all love you and we all want to be with you, puppy,” you had never seen Sirius look so… well…serious, about anything ever.

You leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, a small part of you still afraid he would turn away. Your concerns were soon gone when he met you halfway and connected your lips in a loving kiss. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss and wrap your arms around Sirius’ torso, him doing the same and holding your body close to his.

You broke the kiss and giggled when Sirius followed your lips whining for another kiss. You turned your head and kissed both Remus and James as well as you could, still in Sirius’ arms as he refused to ease his grip on you.

“Again, I’m so sorry, our beautiful girl, I’ll never ever make you doubt my love for you again,” Sirius stated and reconnected your lips.

[fozmeadows]

race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  

[saltydumplings]

Snippet #12

Cw: suggestive.

The hero had just climbed the stairs onto the stage, waving and smiling to the large crowd that cheered for them as they went to collect their reward: Hero of the People. The mayor had been right in front of them - golden trophy extended out to the hero and then--

Screams of shock; the mayor falling backwards in fear as the hero was suddenly swept off their feet - nothing more than a startled yelp leaving their throat as they were carried up and away, the supervillain's hold on them unyielding as they stole them from the peoples' sight. The hero's first instinct was to fight back, but as soon as they realised that if the supervillain dropped them they'd fall to their death they switched tactics, instead clinging onto the other with all their strength.

The supervillain chuckled at the sudden change but otherwise remained silent as they flew up to the top of tallest tower in the city and deposited the hero onto the slanted surface of its peak. The hero felt stone and glass cracking beneath their back from the impact, but not even that was enough to save them from slipping downwards - hands desperately clawing for any kind of purchase to grip onto before the supervillain intervened. Their hands gripped the hero's shoulders and pushed down, body lowering until they had securely pinned the other in place.

The hero was still fearful though - didn't trust the supervillain not to let go - and so they wrapped their legs around their enemy's waist and looped their arms around their neck, flushing a little at the embarassment of their safety being so dependent on the other.

"So, here you are: Hero of the People," the supervillain mocked, smile sharp as they looked the hero over. "The title's cute. It suits you well."

The hero blushed as the supervillain leaned in closer, heart pounding and breath coming out in harsh pants when the other's mouth trailed along their jawline. The supervillain hadn't made an appearance in months - hadn't so much as sent their henchman to keep the hero busy - so why? Why were they showing up now of all times?

"Wh-what do you want f-from me?" the hero asked, still clinging onto the other tightly because they had no other choice.

The supervillain's grin widened, shifting their position above the hero slightly so they could move their hands to the collar of the other's uniform - ripping the material and slowly kissing their way down the hero's chest. The hero gasped a little, squirming as the supervillain then worked their way back up, tongue and teeth scraping lovingly across the hero's skin.

"Supervillain we...you c-can't just - not here. I-If a helicopter passes by they- they'll see, we can't--" The supervillain's lips then pressed against the hero's own, effectively silencing whatever else they had to say.

When they finally parted again the hero was practically breathless, thoughts in too much of a disarray to attempt to string another sentence together.

"What if that's what I want?" the supervillain said, laying a few more kisses along the hero's neck. "What if I want them to see you exactly like this?"

Their hands travelled down to the hero's thighs, fingers pressing in hard enough to bruise and forcing a high-pitched whine from the other's throat.

"I've been gone too long," the supervillain continued, "and I think it's time I reminded the people who this city really belongs to..."

Part 2

[url-is-under-construction]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 ~ 𝐇.𝐋 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Based off the prompt:   “𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Family always came first to you. That’s why you moved to Tokyo with your baby brother despite being miserable every single day, until you met him.

If NYC was the city that never slept then Tokyo was it’s younger sibling who was constantly trying to outdo the elder child. You ignored your younger brother who sat beside you in the taxi, leaning your head against the window and admiring the bright neon lights that stood out against the black of the sky.

No stars were visible, and the noise of the city was audible from inside the taxi, grinding against your ears. You hated it.

“Y/n.” You yanked my head from the cool glass of the window, leaving it foggy in your absence as Sean gently called your name. “We’re here.”

It was then you noticed the taxi had come to a stop, in front of a small looking building.

“This is it?” You asked, only getting a nod and sigh in response as the two of you exited the small vehicle, him sighing loudly as he picked up the bags.

You approached the door and knocked, waiting impatiently as the city air bit and nipped at your rosy red cheeks and nose.

It opened, revealing the man you recognized to be your father. You took a step back, turning the volume of the music in your ears up and letting Sean do the talking. You observed as their mouths moved, and the door closed on the two of you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion before relaxing as it opened again.

This time he was fully clothed and a woman quickly scurried out from behind him, not giving any of you a second glance.

You pulled the earbud out, looking between your brother and father.

“Who was that?” You asked, following the two of them into the cramped building.

“A friend.” Your father responded sharply, before going over the ground rules and showing you to your rather small rooms.

The sleep was terrible that night. Unable to get comfortable on the thin mattress, and longing to be back at home in America. After all, you weren’t the child who had screwed up.

                                                  【~~~】

It took about three days for the reality of the situation you were in to settle in.

You were living in Tokyo. And you wouldn’t be returning home any time soon.

It was quite a rude shock when it finally hit you, and that’s when the tears every night started to pay visits.

You sure as hell weren’t the one who had fucked up, destroying not one but two cars, illegally racing and crashing through the frame of a house waiting to be built. No, that was Sean. But as usual you also had to pay for his mistakes and so off to Tokyo you went with him, leaving behind your friends, your family and your car.

It wasn’t like your mother was expecting you to live here forever with Sean. After all you were almost nineteen and very much so capable of making your own decisions.

She had wanted you to go with him for the first month though, not wanting him to be completely alone with no one but your father there for him, and by painting it out to be some exotic holiday she had convinced you to tag along.

It was a mistake.

Sean had started coming home later and later every night, adjusting well to life in the city. You on the other hand, had absolutely no friends, and despised your days with every fiber of your being. You had begun marking days off your calendar, counting down eagerly for the month to be over and for you to return home.

“I hate it here.” You shoveled food into your mouth, standing with your back against the counter of the kitchen as Sean absentmindedly filled a glass of water. “Why did I choose to come with you?”

“How would I know?.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed.

“You know if you hadn’t been so-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I get enough if that from Mom and Dad. Don’t need it from you too.”

His accent was far stronger than yours, and you mocked him, feeling defeated when he just rolled his eyes and turned back to his phone.

He read whatever was on the screen with a small smile on his face and nosily you leaned over, wanting to get a look.

“Fuck off.” He shoved your shoulder, still smiling.

“What’s got you looking all happy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at you, a mischievous smile on his lips as you waited.

“How do you feel about going out tonight?”

                                                 【~~~】

Bodies crammed together in the parking garage, all surrounding the hundreds of cars parked in the lot. The immaculate paint jobs shined in the harsh neon lights, and most of them had their hoods up and their incredible engines on display, leaving your jaw on the ground every time.

You stuck close to Sean and Twinkie, feeling safer with your younger brother and his best friend. You felt intimidated by the gorgeous women who surrounded you, not that you were there to impress anyone. You were there for the cars.

The shitty 1990 Accord you had back in the states was nothing compared to the beasts that were parked in here.

You could feel vibrations in the ground, from the music and cars and it brought a small smile to your face as you walked through the swarm of people.

Sean’s eyes were scanning the crowd intently, clearly searching for someone.

He finally located who he was after and pulled you and Twinkie in the direction, his smile growing.

“There are some people I want you to meet.”

You were introduced to some faces you knew you wouldn’t remember, a gorgeous girl named Neela being one of the few you did.

You didn’t miss the way they looked at each other, or the way her boyfriend would possessively interrupt when you were talking to her, much to her dismay.

“And finally,” Sean said as you approached a man leaning back against his car, a small smirk on his face. “The one and only, Han.”

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, ignoring the way your breath slightly hitched in your throat.

He stuck his hand out to grasp yours, and you gripped it back with the same smirk he was wearing.

“Y/n.” You introduced yourself, not missing the way his eyes slowly traveled up and down your body. “I’m sorry about what my brother did to your car.”

His eyes returned to you, a smile on his face.

“It’s fine. Plenty of others sitting in that garage.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his smile turning into a shy grin.

“Better keep Sean away from them then.” You teased, turning to your brother only to realize he had left.

You noticed him standing by Neela again, walking around her car while her boyfriend, Takashi, watched intently from afar.

“He’s in love. Has been since he saw her.” Han rolled his eyes, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Hard to see why he wouldn’t be.” You said. “She’s beautiful. Kind. Into cars.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kind? Into cars?” He asked, following your eyes to Sean and Neela.

“You forgot beautiful.” You said with a small laugh as you moved to stand next to him, leaning against the Mazda RX-7 behind you. You were praying to god it was his car, otherwise the lucky owner would probably get very, very pissed.

“Nah.” He turned his head and looked down at you. “Don’t need to ask you that to figure it out.”

A blush crept into your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face.

“Well, usually when someone is kind they don’t run around telling others about it.” Your eyes met his again. “And I love cars.”

He grinned at you, and you turned your head to look back at Sean.

A part of you wanted to play hard to get, but the other part knew that even after only five seconds of talking to this man you were fucking done for and he knew that as well.

“And what about you?” You copied his earlier words, elaborating when you saw his confused face. “Are you kind? Into cars? Beautiful?”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I’m a damn model.”

You let out a laugh, feeling yourself relax.

“I was kind enough to not beat your brother to death after he totaled my car.” Han joked. “And as for cars-” He gestured to the garage, full of stunning, high performance cars capable of stealing your heart in a matter of seconds. “-I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like them.”

“Yeah I suppose that was obvious.” You let out a content sigh. This was the first time you had forgotten about your little countdown, and also the longest conversation you had had with someone who you weren’t related to.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, admiring the cars that surrounded you for a few minutes before he turned back to you again.

“What are you doing here Y/n?”

Your head turned to his, your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you think Sean doesn’t gush about his amazing older sister every chance he gets?” Han rolled his eyes at you like you were stupid.

“No. I find that very hard to believe.” You let out a small laugh. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Sean told me that you were eighteen, turning nineteen in a few months time. No one is forcing you to be here, in Japan.” Han explained, his dark eyes staring into yours. “And yet here you are. Living in Tokyo, miserable, because your delinquent brother couldn’t stay out of trouble in the states. Why?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, then fell open again. You turned your head away from the piercing dark eyes and glanced at your brother.

“Because that guy who destroyed your car is my baby brother. He’s the closest family I’ve got.” You watched Sean as he spoke to Neela, hearts in his eyes. “Family stick together Han. I couldn’t let him just up and leave to a brand new country, with no one but our father there for him.”

Han watched the way you spoke, feeling a warmth across his chest.

“It’s my job to protect him and be there for him, and I don’t care if I’m miserable the whole time I’m doing it. I’m going to be there.”

His jaw almost dropped as your words hit him like bricks.

“You know,” He started. “You remind me of someone I used to go way back with.”

You scoffed light-heartedly.

“How old are you?”

He just grinned. “Too old for you.”

“Well luckily for you, my age is too young for me.” You said. Despite your tone being confident your body was completely betraying you, bracing itself for rejection.

Instead he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

Both of your heads snapped to the right as someone called his name, and you felt your heart fall when you realized that he was probably going to leave.

He sent a quick wave to the person who called out and pushed himself off the Mazda, gazing down at you.

“You know,” He started, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “If you ever get bored during the day you should come by the garage. I think I could make it worth your time.”

You let out a small laugh.

“We’ll see.”

                                                【~~~】

“You made friends pretty fast.” Sean said teasingly as you entered the kitchen, your hair sticking up in all kinds of directions.

“Yeah and so did you apparently.” You sent a sarcastic smile back in his direction. “Pity she’s taken.”

The smile on his face dropped instantly and he went back to his breakfast, ignoring you.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you he spoke up again.

“So are you gonna?”

You looked up from your phone and coffee, furrowing your brows.

“Am I gonna what?”

“Swing by Han’s garage?” He had a knowing smirk on his face. “He told me all about your little conversation.”

You just shrugged casually, not wanting to let him know how you really felt inside.

“Maybe, if I have the time.”

“All you have here is time.” He scoffed. “All you’ve done for the past few days is buy food, eat it, then sleep. You may as well.”

You let out a sigh and finished what was left of your drink.

“Yeah, and for your information Sean, it’s been great.”

“You know you wanna Y/n.” He teased, a grin on his face.

“How about this,” You started. “Let me know next time you head over there. Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sean said. “Especially given that I’ll be there tonight.”

Your cool demeanor dropped and your eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“That’s what I said.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let him know he can look forward to seeing you there with me.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whispered under your breath.

He just shrugged his shoulders.

“You’d be doing me a favor if it meant I’d never have to see your gross face again.”

“What are you? Five?” You asked.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

You just scoffed at him, heading back to your room.

Not that you’d ever admit it to Sean, but you were glad that he’d be heading over to the garage tonight.

You would definitely rather die than tell him that though.

                                               【~~~】

You shut the car door behind you and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Sean had come by to pick you up after he had finished school, and you had been anxiously waiting all day.

Now you were finally here, and still very, very anxious.

“This doesn’t look like a garage to me.” You furrowed your brows, looking out at the water.

“That’s because it’s in there.” Sean pointed to the large brick building. “We’re gonna stay out the front, this is where Han’s been teaching me how to drift.”

“Oh.” You managed to get out, following your baby brother to a group of people who were all sitting down by stacks of tires.

All four faces were familiar, but you only remembered the names of two of them.

“Y/n.” Han greeted you, nodding his head with a smile as he casually held the bottle in his hand.

“Hi.” You smiled back at him, your nerves starting to melt away.

Sean gestured to the empty seat beside Han, and you took it.

The others tossed you friendly smiles which you returned, and Han looked up at Sean.

“Go get your sister a drink.” He said.

Sean did as he was asked, reaching into the cooler that had been brought along and handing you a bottle of something.

“Are you gonna have one?” You asked your brother as you opened it and took a small sip.

“Can’t drink and drive now, can I?” He smirked, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading back towards the Evo.

“Well that’s a first.” You scoffed, and you heard Han let out a small laugh beside you.

“I’m guessing the cowboy doesn’t wanna fuck up another one of Han’s cars.” Twinkie said, watching Sean as his climbed into the car and started it.

You looked over at Han.

“That’s your car?”

“Yep.” He nodded proudly, watching Sean as he started his usual route around the dock.

“How many more have you got hiding in that garage of yours?” You asked with a small laugh.

“You’ll have to come see for yourself.” He shrugged.

“Maybe.” You shrugged as well, missing the way Twinkie and the others looked back and forth at each other.

“You know,” Han started. “If you haven’t got any other plans tonight, I could take you out for a drive, grab some food. Maybe come back to the garage when everyone’s gone.” He said the last part quietly enough for only you to hear.

You looked over to Sean in the car, able to make out his face of concentration despite how far away you were from him. He wouldn’t miss you for one night.

“When do we leave?” You asked with a smile.

He grinned with a surprised laugh, and you could tell he had been expecting you to say no.

“Now, if that works for you.”

You looked back at Sean, wincing at the sound of the tires screaming against the road.

“Sounds good.”

                                              【~~~】

The two of you had ended up getting cheap food from a side-of-the-road vendor, eating in silence in the car before making small talk about everything, from your life back in America to what kind of animals you thought you could take on in a fight.

You were laughing when you stumbled out of the RX-7 and into the cool night air, following Han into the garage which wasn’t that much warmer.

You didn’t know what you had expected when you walked into the garage, but it definitely wasn’t what you saw.

Han gestured for you to follow him up some stairs to an open second story, furnished with a small kitchen, table and chair, and living area.

“Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, realizing he must have some serious money to be able to afford all of this. Not to mention the cars in there, some of which cost more than your house, car and life savings combined.

“It’s my pride and joy.” He pointed towards the sofa, and you took a seat, sinking in to the plush material as he opened the fridge and called out to you. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah thanks.” You smiled, and he pulled out two of the same bottles you had been drinking from earlier.

He took a seat beside you, on the opposite edge of the relatively small sofa, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on your night, before you spoke up.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and he looked at you in confusion. “For what you’re doing for Sean, I mean.”

“It’s not a problem.” He brushed it off. “He’s a good kid, the kinda person I want to be around.”

You let out a scoff.

“Well I wouldn’t go that far.”

He chuckled at you.

“Thank you.” He said, and this time it was your turn to be confused. “You might not realize it. but coming out here with Sean has made it so much easier for him. He probably won’t ever tell you, but he’s grateful as hell and crazy lucky to have you in his life.”

A small blush crept up onto your cheeks, and you almost didn’t notice as he crept closer towards you. Almost.

“Yeah well he’s also crazy lucky to have met you.” You said quietly, your eyes meeting his as the two of you drew closer and closer. “I am too.” You whispered.

“And why’s that?” He asked, his tone matching yours, and you swore the room got hotter by about twenty degrees.

“You’re kind,” You started, remembering back to last night when you met him. “Into cars.” You continued, and he nodded along, agreeing with you.

“You forgot beautiful.” He whispered, just inches from your face now, and you smiled cheekily.

“You’re a damn model sweetheart.”

He grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly and before you could realize what was happening his lips were on yours.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer to you as you laid down flat on your back, feeling his hands roam up and down your body.

You felt butterflies erupt in your chest as your hands wandered from the back of his head, and so did your mind.

Sean’s face flashed in your mind and you inhaled sharply, pushing Han off of you and sitting up, breathing heavily.

“Shit.” You hissed, moving to the edge of the sofa and holding your head in your hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Han asked, also breathing heavily. His tone sounded confused, and guilt racked through your body. “I’m sorry.” His voice changed to apologetic. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I do.” You whined. “I want to, but I can’t. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Sean.” You turned to look him in the eyes, and his face dropped.

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” You agreed.

The two of you sat in silence, still trying to catch your breaths, and trying to think of a way to fix the now incredibly awkward situation.

“I think I should leave.” You said, pushing yourself up off the sofa.

“Y/n don’t go.” Han protested. “It’s the middle of the night and you’ve been drinking. Neither of us can drive and I’m not going to let you walk home or get into a taxi with some creep.”

You let out a sigh, not letting him see how the fact that he cared that much made you all warm and fuzzy inside, or how the fact that it made you all warm and fuzzy inside made you want to gag.

“What do I do then?” You asked.

“Take my bed.” He nodded towards a door that you were assuming led to his bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“No way.” You protested. “This is your home Han, you aren’t sleeping on that tiny ass sofa. I can, it’s no problem.”

His eyes looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Ok. I’ll go grab you some blankets.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, laying down on the sofa.

It was undeniably comfortable, and you let your eyes close before Han returned, vaguely feeling him place a thick blanket over the top of you before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, leaving you with butterflies.

Your mind started to slip out of consciousness, and you let it, forgetting about how you were sleeping in Han’s garage, and planning on being out of there before he woke up the next morning.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Just a fun little something that took me about a week to finish writing! Hope you like it and requests are most certainly open <3

If anyone would like to be on the tag list for part 2, please let me know!

[adorerdraco]

Not My Type (Like You) ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: you should like do a one shot or even another mini series about amortentia/love potions in general. i’d soooo read that

AU SEVENTH YEAR WHERE VOLDY NEVER CAME BACK <3 f**k that mf !

italics are for flashbacks <3 i love them if you couldn’t tell 

Warnings: mean!draco, cursing, more mature themes/ideas, little bit of spice towards the end teehee but not too much bc idk how to write smut to save my life

Words: 4.5K

A/N: I saw a tiktok that kinda inspired this and i couldn’t get the idea out of my heaaaad if anyone knows which one im talking ab send it my way so i can show !!!! ALSO I LOVE THIS ONESHOT I LOVE DRACO AND I AM IN MY FEELINGS this might be my new favoriteeeee

Draco Malfoy was insufferable.

The Prince of Slytherin was unbearable for many reasons, things you've been taking notice of since your first year at Hogwarts when you accidentally had the ”pleasure” of interacting with him when he called you stupid in a class for reciting a spell incorrectly. That day, a hostility blossomed. A hostility that ensued nothing but teasing, mocking, and criticizing that would sometimes go too far and you'd both have to be pulled away from each other by your friends’ before either of you said anything excessively harsh that had no return.

You often felt like Malfoy sought you out to bother you and only for that. You could be sitting in the Quad with friends, conversing and laughing like nothing in the world mattered, and a few minutes later you'd be hurling insults towards the blond across the courtyard after he would yell something infuriating to you with that smug smirk on his face and his goons laughing wildly beside him as if he just said the most hilarious thing they've ever heard. 

On the days you’d ignore him, not having the patience or the energy to deal with him, he would still somehow find a way to push your buttons. Little things here and there like passing you in the corridors and tugging at the ends of your hair gingerly like a child but enough to tick you off or sending you notes from across the class in the form a small fluttering bird with a lousy drawing of you usually with a message along the lines of, “Y/L/N, hopefully, this note finds itself in the nest of hair you have today xx DM.”

In all honesty, there wasn’t a day you didn’t encounter Draco and it’s been that way for seven long years. Neither of you ever gotten tired of mildly or spitefully bullying each other and neither of you ever dreamed of stopping. He was one of the few constants in your daily life, and you in his. It was like you both lived on annoying the other, and in the midst of all the chaos that you brought to one another; there was a small, teeny, tiny acquaintance - not that either of you would ever admit it. You may have noticed it the time you bet each other ten galleons for who would win in the Triwizard Tournament your fourth year and he bet on Viktor Krum while you on Cedric Diggory. (he’s very much alive i refuse to think otherwise.)

“So you’re telling me, your mother is the reason why you’re not at Durmstrang,” you scoffed. “This whole time I could have been saved four years of headaches.”

“You’re just jealous some of us have more opportunities than others,” he snarks back pompously. “Unlike you, I hardly believe you would be graceful enough to even be considered admission into Beauxbatons.”

You had gone to see the last task of the competition just like the rest of the schools, all packed tightly onto the stands and watching carefully the exit of the maze. Naturally, you had arrived with your own friend groups, but somewhere during the time of sitting there and even being a few rows behind the blond and his minions, the two of you had met in the middle bench after he was trying to prove something wrong to you. 

When Cedric appeared back in front of the stands with the glowing Triwizard cup held high over his head in victory and every Hogwarts student loudly celebrating, you had jumped up from your seat and shook wildly an irked Draco beside you. He roughly shrugged your hands off his stiff shoulder, looking up at you with a sneer that you met with a bright beaming smile.

“Pay up, Malfoy!” You held out your hand towards him, opening and closing your fingers to receive the bet money. “I believe it was ten galleons you owe me.”

He begrudgingly reached into his coat pocket and fished out the coins, counting them defeatedly before tossing them into your palm. “What a waste of galleons.”

“Hey, you made the bet,” you reminded him with a still very bright smile. You shoved the money into your pockets, keeping one of the gold coins in between your fingers, and gave him a small hair ruffle that he harshly recoiled from before you turned to jump back up towards the level of stands your friends were originally sitting at.

“Were you really sitting with Malfoy this whole time?” One of your friends questioned when you reached them, a goading smirk on his face.

“Ooooh, she definitely was,” another friend piped up, wiggling her eyebrows. “They’re obsessed with each other.”

“Shut up,” you smack her arm casually, showing the pair the one gold galleon you were holding. “We are not. I was only sitting with him to get my bet money.”

“Sure,” they drawled in unison, sniggering when you threw your head back in annoyance.

You looked down the rows to see the mop of white hair you just sent into disarray. He was slowly descending the stairs of the stands with Crabbe and Goyle following closely behind him. Almost as if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned back to look at you, his cold gray eyes gazing into yours. It was like everything around you went quiet, the only thing in your focus was him and all you could do was stare back. It wasn’t until your friends started stifling laughter and whispering “aww’s” that you snapped out of the short-lived and odd few second trance you were in. He waited for you to do something before he turned back around, and you did - by holding up both hands; the one golden galleon on your left and your middle finger on your right, grinning to yourself when he rolled his eyes throwing you the finger right back before he finally disappeared into the mob of people below.

You were briskly walking down the corridors, books held tightly to your chest with your friend at your side while you made your way to Advanced Potions with Slughorn after Snape finally made his way into the DADA position. It was an easy class, potions being something you had a knack for and it gave you enough leisure to mess with your “favorite” Slytherin who shared it with you. 

“Look there goes your boyfriend,” your friend teases, elbowing your upper arm roughly and nodding her head down towards the hall to the tall blond appearing around the corner and entering swiftly into the class.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss. “I’m tired of everyone saying that. I hate him and he hates me, end of story.”

“You know when you say you hate him, it just sounds like the opposite,” she says tauntingly. “Besides, hate is a strong word and very misplaced. Maybe, it’s just years of built-up tension that both of you have been too nervous to do anything about.”

“Tension? Yeah, I want to strangle him,” you laugh to yourself at the thought.

“Not that tension, idiot,” she shakes her head, “I mean sexual tension...clearly.”

You gave her a horrified look mixed between being disgusted and being offended. You held your hand over your mouth and pretended to gag as dramatically as you could. “I am appalled that you would even say that. I would rather be locked in a room with Filch and Peeves and hear them argue and fight all day than to be with Malfoy like that.”

“Come on, think about it,” she encourages, stopping the two of you a little ways away from the classroom. “You guys 'hate' each other?” She finger quotes the hate, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “When you hate someone, you don’t go out of your way to talk to them every day.”

“It’s not like that,” you wave a hand dismissively. “Also, this isn’t a cliche, this is real life. We hate each other, that is all there is to it.”

You picked up the walk again, your friend to following behind you while letting out a deep and exhausted sigh. You couldn’t help but think about what she said, sure, perhaps at one point you thought Draco was attractive with his bright silver hair, his glittering gray eyes, his little button nose that he would crinkle up every other word he spoke in his charming haughty voice, or the way he’d tower over you in the middle of a conversation gone wrong and he’d be talking lowly to you but all you’d be able to focus on was the sweet scent of apples and cologne that radiated off of him.

“No,” you whispered almost silently to yourself, forcing yourself out of your thoughts and shaking your head from side to side as if it was going to get the image out of your head. He was mean, disrespectful, arrogant, and insulted you daily - even if you both laughed about it or gave props for the perfect jabs.

The first thing your eyes landed on when you walked into the dingy Potions classroom was Draco, his focus trained on the ceiling as if he was deep in thought. Just as his eyes were about to flicker down towards you, and sensing that he was about to, you quickly avoided his gaze and concentrated onto Slughorn who was waiting patiently by his desk with a bubbling cauldron for you and your friend to join the crowd in front of him.

“Great! Now that we’re all here,” Slughorn began excitedly, fixing the sleeves of his robes as he grabbed the ladle in the cauldron and began stirring it while continuing his lecture. 

You were trying to listen, capturing only the professor’s last sentence as he called on someone who raised their hand. All attention was thrown out the window when you realized Draco was standing near said classmate, a look of annoyance suddenly clouding his features when his pale eyes met yours.

“What?” He mouthed. You ignored him, trying to turn your concentration back onto Slughorn but nothing he was saying made sense, and right as you caught a word you did understand, a shuffling and an abrupt arm knocking into yours threw you right back out of the loop.

“Watch it,” you snap hushedly when you notice who it is. “Why are you over here?”

“I can’t say hello to my number one fan?” He whispers back, snickering slightly when you scoffed quietly.

“Fan? Says the one who shoved his way through the crowd to come over here,” you grumble, crossing your arms. 

“I hardly shoved,” he mutters. “I only moved because I couldn’t see Slughorn from where I was standing. Not everything’s about you.”

“Really? Because to me, it seemed like you came over here for my attention.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, a patronizing smile making its way onto his face. The type of typical boy smile where his mouth is half agape with his tongue smoothing over his teeth as he stared off across the room with his fingertips rubbing thoughtfully against his jawline as he thought of what to say. You stood still as he bent down, nearing his mouth towards your ear and whispering hotly, “you wish, darling.”

Slughorn sent everyone to their paired tables, and as everyone began moving and Draco sauntered off away from you, you stood stuck there, shocked with the lingering chills that were sent down your spine from your archnemesis’ comment.

“I told you, you’re into each other,” your friend sang expectantly from behind you, grabbing onto your sleeve and directing the two of you towards your table. 

You were working peacefully at your workspace, cutting up, peeling, and crushing the ingredients that your friend was sliding across the surface to you. In the table behind you was where Draco was working annoyingly quiet, tossing the stripped stems of the roses at you that you had to peel, tiny thorns pricking at your ankles through your socks since the bigger thorns had been taken off for the potion. As payback, you would throw back loose extra pearl dust you ground up, giggling tauntingly when he would frown at you for getting the coarse white powder all over his Italian leather shoes and most definitely inside of them as well.

When you, and seemingly the rest of the class, had finally thrown in all the ingredients and the potion promptly finished brewing, beautiful clouds of white and pink smoke began rising from the cauldrons, each one having a lovely scent of first; freshly pressed high-priced linens, then a faint smell of a brand new racing broom out of a box with a freshly polished wood handle that then quickly transformed into a sweet harvest of apples, green specifically, and finally...

“Ugh, gross,” you pinched your nostrils closed, turning your body around and sending a scowl towards Draco’s way. “Malfoy, we get it, your cologne is expensive, now stop spraying it. I was smelling all these wonderful things and you ruined it.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you were crazy. “Are you mad? I didn’t spray anything, I think you’ve finally lost it.”

“Well you laid it on too heavy this morning then, it reeks in here.”

“You’re one to talk, Y/L/N. Did you bathe yourself in that dreadful perfume you wear just now? And that ghastly lip shiner thing you use,” He sneers, crinkling up his nose. “I can’t even think straight, I might vomit.”

“Lip shiner? It’s called lip balm, you prat,” you retort, crossing your arms angrily. “Either way, I haven’t used or sprayed anything either so-”

“For Merlin’s sake!” Your friend suddenly exasperated loudly from beside you making you briskly whirl around to look at her, a look of pure annoyance etched onto her face. “Are you two really that daft? Honestly? Have you been paying attention to anything other than each other? For instance, the potion we just made?”

This gained the attention of your classmates around you in the surrounding tables, turning their heads slightly but not obviously with small knowing smirks on their faces while they snickered quietly and listened. It was soundless as you reached towards the book in front of your friend, pulling it painstakingly slow towards you in fear of the words that were written on the open page.

“Amortentia,” you muttered glumly as you read the page, pushing it away from you dejectedly as everything began to click.

“The reason you’re both smelling each other is because you’re what the other desires and is attracted to. Wow, what a revelation! As if the whole school didn’t already know.”

You were afraid to turn around. You could feel the cold and hard pair of eyes burning holes onto your back and the immediate amount of whispers and giggles of the people around you. Luckily, Slughorn was busy at the other end of the room, working diligently with another pair of students who managed to mess up their potion. 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco announces finally.

“What’s so ridiculous about it?” You questioned, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach when you turned again and took notice of the way his lips were curling upwards as if it was the most disgusting thing he could have ever heard.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” he deadpans. “Why would I ever desire someone like you?”

There had been occasions over the years when you were in this situation. None as drastic and as revealing, but there would be times when friends and others would poke fun and say the exact same thing your friend told you earlier. The usual, “they got the hots for each other!” and you would always brush it off and joke about how you could never, and he’d do the same. It was always amongst laughs and jokes, but as you looked at the Slytherin in front of you - there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his hardened face.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” you seethed, biting down hard on your lip to refrain from lashing out either in tears or in insults, you couldn’t decide. “If I’m so revolting, leave me alone from now on, I mean it.”

“I never said that,” he argues. “You’re just simply not my type.”

For some eerie, awful reason, the words tore into you like a sharpened knife going easily through butter. You were used to his insults, his mocking, his comments about your appearances - but this hurt, and you couldn’t explain why. You thought, for a second, possibly, that maybe your friend was right. Maybe there was a hidden attraction you had for the platinum blond that you buried deep away and one that he had for you. There was no way that was the case now, not at all. 

And for the first time in your life, you couldn’t be more sure of a simple little fact.

You hated him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

You don’t know how long you spent sitting in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, back against the cold tiled wall with your knees brought up to your chest. Your friends had tried to console you after the public rejection and humiliation, but their words only made you feel worse. You felt silly for being so bothered about being rejected by Malfoy, he wasn’t exactly someone you fancied, to begin with.

After dinner, you went off the grid and found yourself where you’re now sitting. The ghostly girl flew restlessly around you, popping out of her stall now and then to chat but then going back into her abyss of nothing when she learned you were still upset. You noticed it made her a little too pleased, considering the fact it was always her who was miserably wailing about her problems in the bathroom. She tried to hide it and let you talk to her about how you felt, but she gave terrible advice most of the time. 

“Well, if it was me, I would have never started fancying someone who was mean to me,” she mumbled. “Like when Paul Wighorn made fun of my hair for a whole year and laughed when I cried. I hated his guts then and I still do now.”

She had a point, but she was also Myrtle. Nothing about the overly dramatic ghost made sense.

“I don’t fancy him, It’s just weird,” you trail off. “I can’t imagine a day without him, even if he is a complete arse. We always joked about how we hated each other, but I didn’t think he actually meant it, I guess.”

“I think you do fancy him, though,” she whispers knowingly in your ear, making you flinch from her cold draft. “Stop denying it, it’ll only keep making you feel worse. Amortentia doesn’t lie, silly. Maybe when you drink it, but before that, all real feelings are there, whether you know it or not.”

You sat quietly, taking in her words before something came crashing down onto you like a wall of bricks.

“I suppose that means he’ll have to stop denying it too,” she adds thoughtfully. 

“Myrtle,” you rush to get up, smoothing your hair down profusely and fixing the wrinkles in your clothes. “You’re a genius.”

“I am?” She asks excitedly. “What did I say?”

You waved her off, giving her another thank you before rushing out of the bathroom and into the empty corridors. You were trying to go back to your dorm to sleep, hoping that when tomorrow came you would be bold enough to confront the Slytherin Prince but it was thirty minutes past curfew, something you didn’t notice until you were bustling down the steps in a rush and came face to face with the man of the hour himself doing his Prefect patrolling duties.

“Go to your dorm, Y/L/N,” he sneers. “I’ll take away house points, don’t test me,”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That I’ll take away house points? Watch me. Five-”

“No, you twat,” you groan, swatting his arm with your hand. “I don’t believe that I’m not your type.”

He stayed wordless for a moment, biting the inside of his cheeks and clenching his jaw as he peered down at you from his lanky height. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think you were my type until the amortentia made me aware of it,” you answer quietly. “Actually, my friend had a hand in it, but it was mostly the potion.”

Silence, again. Still and deadly. You could hear the large clocks around the school tick and tock, the hundreds of paintings snoring peacefully or chattering quietly. You avoided looking up at the boy in front of you, all of a sudden feeling small under his gaze until you felt cold fingers brush against your cheekbone and then softly through your hair causing you to finally look up into the soft wandering almost blue eyes. 

“I didn’t find out with the amortentia,” he muttered almost reluctantly as if it was the most difficult thing he had to reveal. “I’ve known I’ve liked you for a while.”

“How long is a while?” You curiously wonder aloud.

“I’m not telling,” he smirks. “Perhaps you’ll figure it out one day.”

Both hands came up to rest on your cheeks, slightly cold but soft and tender. It sent chills throughout your body as he took a step closer to you and then closer, backing you carefully into the diagonally ascending stone wall that went in the direction of the stairs. Your breathing was getting uneven, you noticed the way you accidentally switched to manually forcing yourself to inhale and exhale normally when he leaned down with his face now being mere centimeters from yours. It was torture, having your eyes closed and feeling the way his nose was brushing against yours, minty breath warm against your lips as he ghosted over them with his. He was so close, you smelt everything that was in the damn potion that got you here. It sent flutters of warmth down your body, trickling down and seeping deeply into every bone in your body as if this is was the remedy its been needing. This is what you’ve been missing.

When you finally felt a soft pair of lips being pressed into yours, it felt almost unreal that you were there. It was awkward the first couple of seconds, both of you wondering how in the world had you gotten yourselves in this position, but after you relaxed and he found his Prince of Slytherin confidence - it was magic. His lips moved languidly against yours, affectionately and full of longing. He kept his hands on your cheeks, still timid to move anywhere else while you kept yours resting lightly on his sides. It scared you a little, how fast and how easily you melted into each other, like if this was something you’ve been doing with him for years rather than torment the other for laughs. 

You hated the feeling when he pulled away, a gust of freezing castle air passing through the space between you and cooling your lips and face from his contact. His hands dropped down to his sides and he looked down at you with a small smile, a teeny bit smug, but happy. You wanted to feel the same way, but a question still loomed over your head, overpowering the giddiness you were vividly feeling.

“Why did you lie earlier?” You question softly, directing your gaze to the floor. “In class, I mean.”

He thought about his answer for a second, sighing deeply when he realized he had to uncover more truths about himself to you. You took a mental observation at that, he didn’t like to talk about feelings. “You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me. I thought I’d beat you to it and reject you before you could reject me.”

“What made you think I’d reject you?” You coaxed. “Other than the fact that I made you a sworn enemy at eleven.”

“Exactly that,” he laughed lightly. “You’re unpredictable, Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself at the realization that he finally used your first name. “So are you, Draco.”

“Not really,” he grins. “Like in just a few moments, for example, I’m going to start snogging you.”

You opened your mouth to encourage him but shut it quickly when he closed the space between the two of you again, this time much closer than he was before. He was flush against you, and when you say you could feel everything; you could feel everything. You were almost begging for him to lean down and kiss you again by the time you felt his hands on you again, running delicately around the exposed skin of your hips when your shirt hiked up an inch on accident. He leaned down again, and with the advantage of his lowered height, you let your hands slide up his arms, biceps, and ultimately the nape of his neck where your fingers continued up into his hair. The breathiest gasp escaped his throat as you tugged at the ends gently, smirking to yourself when he closed his eyes in delight at the touch.

His lips came down onto your fast this time and hastily, pressing himself impossibly closer into you. You could feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hold moving upwards onto your waist as he continued to kiss you fervently. His teeth bit down softly on your bottom lip and you wasted no time in parting them slightly for his tongue to meet yours. You tugged at the platinum strands of hair again, feeling triumphant when a low groaning sound emitted from his throat at the sensation as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further.

You knew you were done for when one of his hands slowly slid up your upper body, stopping first at your collarbones with warm fingertips fluttering over the skin, before he moved it upwards completely and he now had his large hand wrapped comfortably around your neck. You gasped in delight into the kiss, a swarm of butterflies going directly to your lower stomach as he squeezed against the artery in your neck meticulously, the coldness from his Malfoy family crest ring only adding fuel to the fire. He tore his mouth away from yours with his hand still clutched firmly around your throat and you were almost sent into orbit with the look he was giving you. A look filled with desire, adoration, and intensity - his pale gray eyes were much darker, almost a dark blue that resembled the starry night sky on a summer night.

Lips reattached themselves roughly and feverishly against your jawline, peppering long and tender kisses all the way towards your ear and then down towards your collarbones where he was beginning to undo the rest of the top buttons of your school dress shirt. You felt him smile against your hot skin when you’d writhe underneath him, emitting weak whimpers that you couldn’t hold back that he ended up having to clasp a free hand over your mouth as he whispered into your ear to stay quiet.

It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a poorly lit corridor where anyone could walk past and see the frenzy that was unfolding, nor did it matter to Draco that his Prefect duties were long forgotten. Your friend was right, and everyone else for that matter; it wasn’t hate you felt for the blond at all, it was years and years of a craving and a hidden yearning packed with displaced tension.

And now, you were both exactly where you wanted to be; together.

[infictionalwonderland]

hope mikaelson x reader , bestfriends to rivials to secret protectors to lovers ?

secret protectors is secretly protecting eachother btw

and if you can , can you start it where they are ex bestfriends already

sure thing darling ;) I’ve tweaked it a tad but it’s mostly the same

it’s quite shitty but It’s written with my sleep deprived brain.. so.. sorry.

warnings : swearing, mentions of sex, underage drinking

Y/N Y/L/N and Hope Andrea Mikaelson.

The two of you had an.. interesting history to say the least.

Let’s start with the backstory shall we?

Now the two of you had already come from feuding families, though you had both completely disregarded that fact in your first meeting and there was an instant platonic connection. One which you and her both eagerly deepened as you’d both grown up shadowed from the outside world and without the ability to form relationships of any kind, so it was like a first to the both of you. In a sense.

Your relationship status of friends quickly glided from good friends to close friends to best friends and the two of you were perfectly content with this.

Of course that was until you families had to go ahead and ruin it.

It was actually Hope’s mum Hayley who had found out about your secret friendship first, unbeknownst to you, and Hope had almost burst into tears at the look of shock and mild disgust on her mum’s face.

“You’re father told me about that family.” Hayley had said “They aren’t a good bunch sweetheart.”

And Hope had stayed mute and assumed that that was the end of that — but of course she knew deep down that wasn’t simply going to be the end of this situation she had gotten herself into.

The next day, she was at a family dinner — one which they commonly had every single evening so nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the slightest.

But the tense looks on all her families faces told her otherwise and she had felt her heart psychically constrict at her dad’s next words.

“We don’t want you involved with that y/l/n family.”

That sentence was playing on her mind for days as she actively avoided you at all cost, knowing full well a look into your y/e/c eyes would only worsen her current predicament.

But she made her decision (no matter how difficult).

Family was everything to her...

So the next day, she had met you in person in broken up your friendship in perhaps the rudest way possible she could think of in the hopes you would start disliking her and consequently leaving her life which made her family life so much easier. No matter how the mere thought being without your presence for eternity pained her dearly.

But afterwards it was after your friendship never happened.

You went to thinking she was just like how your parents portrayed her family to be.

And she went to glaring in the halls of school and showcasing her ‘hate’ while dreaming of you when the day turned to dusk.

• • •

“Looking good y/n.” Your friend (kinda) Bianca Goldman whistled as you strutted over to her where she stood leaning against a tree as she observed the lively party.

“You too Ani.” You smiled playfully, twirling a strand of Bianca’s strawberry blonde hair around your finger with a playfully seductive look in your eyes.

“Go find someone else to hit on, you’ve got half the school pining after you.” Bianca scoffed lightly with a joking (mostly) roll of her green eyes but anyone could make out the newly gained pink flush to her pale skin.

“Aww no need to be jealous Ani.” You whispered lightly with a mocking pout as you leaned in a little more and watched in amusement as her pale skin gained a more crimson flush.

However, what you failed to see was from across the forest. Leaning against her own tree was your ex-bestfriend (enemy to everyone’s knowledge) watching you intently with jealously shining transparently in her ocean blue eyes.

“What’s go your thong in a twist princess.” Elizabeth Saltzman smirked jokingly, her eyes alight with the perfect mixture of mirth and entertainment that masked her confusion.

Hope didn’t answer, instead, a glare glazed over her previously envious blue eyes and she pursed her lips together.

“You’re jealous aren’t you?” Lizzie asked in amusement though slight shock, her gaze quickly flickering between both you and Hope with a new sense of interest and determination.

“Jealous of what? I’m only concerned for Bianca, y/n plays people and leaves them high and dry.” Hope spoke defensively.

“More like pleased and happy.” Lizzie corrected cheekily.

Her response was a displeased scoff and Hope taking an even bigger swig of her beer.

• • •

It was officially the next day and those who weren’t suffering with hangovers (the vampires and some werewolves or witches who knew the correct spells) were up bright and early.. most of them.

You were a witch, a bloody good one at that and thankfully you knew the hangover spell but with your lifestyle you sort of had to know it.

Still — instead of attending class like you were obviously meant to, you just went down to the kitchens for some food because hey? food is way more important than studies, right.?

Standing in the kitchens and munching happily on a chocolate chip cookie and you heard a sharp gust of wind. One which you could identify with an approaching vampire.

But before you could even turn, a resounding thud rang out through the kitchen and you turned to see a vampire, a newbie — Leon Arnold — neck snapped on the floor, blood staining his lips, mouth and shirt and vampire features receding back.

You blew out a harsh breath and placed your hand on your head, trying to calm your rapidly racing heart.

Under her own cloaking spell, Hope Mikaelson smiled lightly to herself in accomplishment and relief. Oh so maybe this seemed slightly stalker-ish.. but she was curious to what you did when you didn’t attend class and honestly thank god she did decide to be .. stalker-ish today.

“Mikaelson?”

Shit. She just so happened to forget you were an equally as powered witch who could see past her spells.

“You did that..?” You gestured to Leon and much to the annoyance of yourself you felt a warm feeling encase your heart at the thought of her protecting you.

“Yeah..I did.” Hope nodded her head hesitantly and slipped a quick smile over her plush pink lips with her cheeks discreetly flushing at the softer look that entered your y/e/c eyes.

“Well thank you.” You spoke sincerely and cursed yourself out mentally for the butterflies that swarmed around your stomach.

Just like old times

A response wasn’t heard on Hope’s end as you hastily hurried out.

• • •

“Ugh this is stupid.” Lizzie groaned slumping against the wall as she watched Hope pointedly avoid your eyes and you do the same. She had a sneaking suspicion and she also had an idea which in her opinion was spectacular.

“What is?” Josette, Josie, Saltzman asked hesitantly as she looked up with the end of her of pencil resting between her lips absentmindedly.

“This!” Elizabeth practically shouted as she gestured between Hope and you and Josie looked on with wide perplexed eyes.

“No you know what.” Lizzie muttered, putting Hope’s wrist in a tight hold and magically dragging you over. Ignoring your groans and shouts of protest and everyone’s either wide and curious or shocked eyes.

Quickly, she basically threw the both of you in the nearest classroom and placed a spell on the door.

“Talk! Now!”

You and Hope sat in a extremely tense silence for about a minute or so just staring into each other’s heatedly.

Before suddenly she crashed froward and pressed her lips into yours hungrily.

You eagerly responded to the kiss, familiar with this nature of kiss, winding your hands through her soft locks of auburn hair as hers wrapped around your waist. Hope let out a little moan as you ran your tongue over her bottom lip and she obediently opened her mouth slightly for you to proceed.

Abruptly the two of you pulled apart, panting harshly.

“We should—“

“Yeah—“

“Be my girlfriend—“

It felt like time stopped from a moment and with a wide grin appearing on your face you nodded your head frantically.

Your families the last thing on your minds.

[justauthoring]

Precious To Us [2]

In other words, you’re Seijoh’s manager.

This chapter, Oikawa’s fangirls.

A/N: Here it is! The second part! I had one person request an idea (thanks @minigranger) and I definitely plan on writing it soon but I love the trope of manager vs. fangirls that I can’t help myself. As usual, please send in ideas :)

Listen, Oikawa’s fangirls are mean.

They just are.

It doesn’t really matter to them that you’re a first year, if they’re supposed to be your seniors, they would probably still be bitches even if you were their seniors and in second/third year.

They seem to think Oikawa’s theirs, even though, of course, he isn’t and if asked, he definitely would deny.

And they see you as a threat.

A big, big threat.

Who gets to see Oikawa everyday? You. Who gets to see him practice every day? You. Who gets a front row to seat to every one of his games? You. And who does he flirt with? You.

It doesn’t matter if you reciprocate the flirting or not -- which of course, you don’t -- they’re jealous and they blame it all on you.

Honestly, the first month of managing is fine. 

Now that you know who Oikawa is and you’re around him more, you do notice the fangirls, but they don’t really bother you and you’re too focused trying to learn the ropes to really care about their constant presence. 

You know you’ve heard some of the other members, namely the third years, complain about them.

About how annoying and distracting they were when it came to practice, or just the mere fact that Oikawa seemed to revel in the attention and love.

You’ve heard them, but you don’t really say anything otherwise because they’ve never done anything to you so you don’t really care either or.

Besides, even if you do think it’s tad bit pathetic, you can’t deny they’re devoted and you guess, in some ways... good for them?

But when you don’t stop being manager, and the rest of the team, namely Oikawa, don’t get sick of you like they all expect them to, and a month passes and you seem to just be thriving, getting a long with everyone, and finally getting the hang of everything?

That’s when they attack.

You’re already late.

And even if you know none of the boys or even the coaches will be upset with you, you do like to be punctual and you absolutely hate being late. So, you’re rushing, practically sprinting through the halls as you try to gather your bearings and organize everything you need to.

You’re already thinking of what drills Oikawa will have the team do, and what you can do to help. Maybe you could bring up some of the notes you’ve made? You’re not a hundred percent on the terms, but Iwaizumi has been helping you, and you’re sure you’ve picked up on a few of the techniques and things you think the boys could improve on.

You didn’t want them to think you’re imposing, but this was the job of the manager wasn’t it? They always reminded you you were more then just a water girl, and that they greatly appreciated anything advice you had for them from an outsider point of view, so maybe--

Landing with a loud thud, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your chin smack against the concrete floor beneath you. It takes you a second to gather your bearings, baffled at how you were suddenly on the ground, and trying to ignore the pain at having bitten your own tongue. But the second you hear laughter, you realized exactly what had happened and your head turns around to stare at the three girls stood above you in bafflement.

They’re laughing at you, quite loudly and obvious mocking you, but your eyes narrow in bafflement when you realize you’re positive you’ve seen them before. You just can’t place your thumb on it. They’re not in your class, one of them doesn’t even seem to be in your year, and you don’t think you’d remember some random face you’d passed in the hall, so--

That’s right. You’ve seen them hanging around Oikawa before, and the one older girl had even snuck into practice one day.

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you move to gather your stuff, only for it to be kicked out of your grasp.

“What the--!”

“Listen.”

You blink when the older one, clearly the leader or whatever, is suddenly directly before you, barely a breaths away, glaring down at you.

“You need to quit being manager for Oikawa-san’s volleyball team.”

And your eyes widen, baffled, lips parting as you shake your head; “I don’t--”

“I think you perfectly understand,” the girl behind her sneers, eyes cold.

“We don’t like how close you were with Oikawa-san.”

“And we’re sure Oikawa-san’s sick of seeing your ugly face every day.”

You’re stunned silent. Honestly, you’re not really sure what to say.

“We’ll give you till the end of the week,” the head girl smiles, but it’s a sickly sweet, filling you with dread. “Okay?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before her and the other two are walking off, clearly proud of themselves if they way they walk and hold themselves is anything to go by.

It’s takes you five minutes to gather yourself before you start making your way to the gym again for practice.

Part of you wants to just skip and go home but you know the boys would be concerned, more then they probably already are given how late you are, and really, it would just cause more issues in the end anyways.

Besides, you’re never one to skip anyways.

You don’t cry. You’re not really sure why because you definitely want to, but the tears never come and then you’re suddenly in the gym and everyone's rushing towards you in concern, questions leaving their lips rapidly as to why you were so late.

You brush them off, and it almost works, before Iwaizumi takes notice of the dried blood on the corner of your lip that you’d regrettably missed when cleaning yourself up earlier and the scrape underneath your chin.

“What happened to your chin, Y/N? You’re bleeding.”

He steps towards you, but you brush him off.

“I just tripped is all. Bit my tongue.”

You smile and hope it’s enough to convince them, but even if Iwaizumi looks like he wants to argue, Oikawa’s already pulling him back onto the court.

“You’re so clumsy, Y/N-chan! You really do need to be more careful!”

Some of the boys laugh and you do too, forcing yourself to pretend like everything’s fine even though you can physically feel yourself shaking.

But even as he’s being dragged away, Iwaizumi is still eyeing you and you don’t let him grow anymore suspicious then you can tell he is. You send him a soft smile, and then turn, making your way over to the coach to see where you can help for the day.

And it continues on like that for week. 

By the next day, every seems to have forgotten you being late and only Makki makes a teasing comment about the cat themed bandaid on your chin to which you begrudgingly shove him away with a shrill “it’s the only ones we have!” and you seem more like yourself then you had the day before that by the second day, even Iwaizumi has relaxed.

By the end of the week, even he seems to have forgotten about it.

But you haven’t. 

And it being the end of the week has you scared.

Kindaichi seems to notice your weird behaviour in class, especially now that the two of you tend to stick together now that you’re acquainted. But you brush him off every time he asks, saying you just felt ill.

He seems to believe it fine.

Luckily for you, nothing happens.

You’re on edge all day expecting something to happen, but nothing ever does.

Aiko, the third year and clear ring leader of that little group, never approaches you. In fact, you don’t see her once all day, which that in itself isn’t odd since you’re in different years, but you had expected to see her lackies -- either Makoto, a first year like you, or even Nami, a second year.

But you don’t.

By the final bell, you’re relieved.

It was just a mindless threat. It didn’t mean anything clearly, and they had just been poking fun, and honestly you were fine with that -- so long as you didn’t have to deal with them again.

You’d just have to be more wary of the fangirls. Maybe they weren’t as kind as you thought you were, and clearly they thought you posed some kind of threat (even though you definitely didn’t) so you’d just keep it in mind and--

“I’m pretty sure we told you by the end of the week.”

It’s a harsh thud, you don’t fall to the ground like you did last time, but you do thud against the lockers which dig painfully into your back. And regrettably you let a small cry in response, which pales in comparison to the cry of pain that leaves your lips when one of them grab a chunk of your hair and tug, hard.

Pushing at the hands that grab at you, you spin, not surprise to see the same three as before, sneering down at you.

Aiko spits down at you. “Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“I’m not gonna just quit,” you whisper, feigning the confidence to speak up for yourself. Your eyes narrow up at her, even though your heart is racing madly against you chest, and shake your head adamantly. “I love managing the volleyball team, and it’s not even because of Oikawa-senpai! I love being will all the boys, and I won’t let you--!”

“You really are just a slut.”

You’re stunned silent, lips left parted.

“Listen, I gave you a week, you didn’t listen.” Aiko scoffs, shaking her head as she brushes her hair back, glaring down at you. “I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.”

She strikes you hard, across the cheek, and naively, you think that’s it. You can handle some punches and kicks, because you really don’t want to give up the one thing that’s made you happy for the first time in a long time. Even as the hits continue, and your body starts to ache, you think,

I can handle this.

But still, you end up skipping practice that day. You blame it on the fact the fact that you just didn’t want to have to explain why you looked so battered and messed up, knowing this time no amount of lying was going to get you out of this one. Because, really, it wouldn’t just be Iwaizumi suspicious this time -- all the boys will be, and then they’ll probably talk to the coach and...

and, it’s just to much a fuss for you. So, you skip, sending a text to Oikawa explaining that you weren’t feeling well and you’d be back Monday and to please apologize on the coaches behalf for you.

But you don’t go back the next day.

When you open your locker the next Monday, your homework that you’d finished during lunch to previous day to get a head start is ruined. Completely and wholeheartedly ruined.

And when you glance around, the first thing you see is Makoto from across the hallway, smirking at you.

But you don’t have any proof.

So, you suck back the tears that threaten to fall, and sulk to your first class where you know the teacher will be less then pleased.

And of course she isn’t, but she simply sighs and tells you that if you don’t have it in by tomorrow, she’ll have to give you a failing grade. 

Embarrassed and upset, you walk to your seat, ignoring Kindaichi’s watchful gaze as you sink into your seat.

But it only gets worse from there.

The second class starts, a note is tossed onto your desk.

You eye, confused, glancing around for who threw it, only for everyone to be faced forward, before glancing briefly at Kindaichi’s whose watching your curiously.

Slowly, you open it.

Is it true you actually slept with all of the volleyball team?

Laughter echoes, but when you look up, there’s three girls staring at you, all mockingly.

Kindaichi leans forward, trying to grab the note but you pull it from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.

He cannot see that.

And when the class ends, you narrowly avoid Kindaichi who calls for you, rushing out of the class, only for someone to bump into you the second you make it out, shoving harshly into your shoulder.

“Slut.” The voice sneers.

Your lips part, and you glance up, feeling your vision blur, but when you glance around, you suddenly notice the looks everyone’s giving you, and the way they laugh and sneer at you.

But what really makes you break is when you turn, feeling like everyone’s against you, and find Kindaichi staring at you with parted lips, obviously confused, and you just can’t hold it back then, turning without another word, and running off.

The day continues like that, and after lunch, which you spent alone hidden in a bathroom stall, you see Iwaizumi and Oikawa ahead of you, smiling when they notice you.

They look as if they want to talk, but you know then you absolutely cannot like that happen, for multiple reasons, so you turn around quickly, running off in the opposite direction despite the way they call after you.

You don’t go back to practice like you said you would.

And neither do you Tuesday.

When Wednesday rolls around, and every laughs at you when you walk pass them in the halls, or sneers at you, or looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing, you go to the office when you realize you can’t handle this any longer.

No matter how much you love being on the team and managing the boys. 

Little do you know, in class, Kindaichi notices the odd coloured paper in your hands and curiously, maybe even worriedly (because there’s a sinking feeling in his gut) peers over your shoulder as subtle as he can, lips parting when he reads the header.

Permission to quite a club form.

“I think Y/N’s going to quite the team.”

It’s the first words he says when he enters the club room that day, and it makes everybody pause.

Silence echoes, and slowly, unsurely, Yahaba shakes his head; “what-what are you talking about, Kindaichi? I thought Y/N said she just wasn’t feeling well, which is why--”

“I saw the form this morning,” Kindaichi shakes his head, “I know what I read.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Y/N would’ve talked to us first if something was upsetting her. She wouldn’t just--”

“Haven’t you guys heard the rumours going around?”

It’s Kunimi who speaks this time, his voice the similar drawl it always is, but if you look at him close enough, it’s easy to tell that he’s concerned. Upset even. And he looks disgusted as he speaks, eyeing Kindaichi first, almost knowingly, before turning to the other boys.

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow; “what are you talk--”

“I think someone’s been bullying her,” Kindaichi frowns. “It started at the beginning of the week. Y/N came in with her homework ruined, which I thought was weird, because she always is so careful with her work and makes sure it’s done early. And then someone tossed this note onto her desk but she wouldn’t let me read it, and she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me all class. Then, when class was over, people were... well--”

“There’s a rumour going around that’s she’s slept with all of us.”

It’s Kunimi who finishes it, Kindaichi’s face beet red, which quite a few of the boys mimic seconds later when Kunimi finishes.

But Oikawa? Oikawa just looks pissed.

“What?”

Kindaichi blanches, looking absolutely terrified; “I thought you knew! I didn’t--”

Oikawa storms past him, Iwaizumi quick to follow, and then Mattsun and Makki are right behind them. The first and second years glance at each other, before slowly following them, and sure enough the third years are heading straight for the gym, to which none of them are surprised to find you there, a form in your shaky hands as you stare at Coach Mizoguchi.

You turn to them with wide eyes, clearly having hoped to finish before any of the boys started practice. But Mizoguchi looks relieved. “Thank God you boys are here,” he breathes, standing up to which you try to stop him, but he isn’t listening, “Y/N wants to quit, but I really think she should talk to you first,” he’s looking directly at Oikawa, “she won’t tell me why. And please Y/N,” he turns to you, “I think you should reconsider.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Oikawa cuts in, voice oddly low before you can say anything.

Mizoguchi smiles, nodding at you before making his way over the gym obviously in search of Irihata. Instantly the tension thickens when you’re left alone with all eyes directly and solely on you.

It takes a second to find the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you about it, but I...” And your voice falters, even you can’t help the way your voice quivers. “I think it’s best if I just quit.”

“You’re not quitting.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time, and his voice is so firm, so sure, even if you’re not sure how to argue against it.

“But I-I--”

“You don’t need to quite,” Oikawa shakes his head, stepping towards you and pulling the form from your grasp with ease. You watch with parted lips as he simply rips it right in front of you, tossing it aside without much care, before glancing back at the rest, namely the other third years, turning back to you. “Now, tell us, who told you you had to quit?”

And your eyes bulge. How did he--

“Kindaichi and Kunimi told us about everything,” Iwaizumi starts, moving towards you, as your eyes fall to the first years, watching the way they both, even Kunimi, stare after you in concern. “We know someone’s been bothering you, so, just tell us.”

“We’ll help you,” Watari adds with a smile, hesitantly speaking up.

And you pause, unsure. But then you stare at them all watching you carefully, and see how all of them care so much, more then you ever thought they did and you’re reminded of why you’d refused to quit in the first place. Reminded of how much you love managing the volleyball team and no matter how much you were scared and hurt, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Lose them.

“It’s... It’s a few, three actually, of Oikawa-senpai’s fangirls,” you mumble, voice low, head turned downwards. “They... They don’t like how much time I spend with him, so they... they told me to quit and when I refused, they...” You don’t need to finish.

There’s a pause, before a slap echoes. 

“Somehow I knew this was your fault, Shittykawa.”

“Ow!” Oikawa cries, “Iwa-chan, it’s not like I...” But he seems to pause, lips parting as he glances down at you, his heart breaking slightly at the tears in your eyes.

Stepping forward, he pulls you into a hug, and you let him; “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan, I didn’t know they were hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is,” Mattsun comments, stepping forward as he smiles down at you, ruffling your hair. “It’s easier to blame him anyways.”

“I agree,” Makki laughs.

And even you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Really, Y/N-chan? Even you too?”

“Sorry.”

Then, everyone turns serious; “I’ll talk to them,” Oikawa frowns. “What they did isn’t okay. I won’t let them get away with it. They’ll never bother you again, Y/N.”

And you’re surprised by how serious he is.

But things do get better.

Aiko never bothers you again, nor does any other one of Oikawa’s fangirls.

Oikawa even makes her apologize, and even you have to admit the absolute mortification on her face makes everything a lot better.

The boys try to stop the rumour, but it’s easier said then done, though, the fame of it all does dwindle and you’re not snided in the hallways so much anymore.

It’s kind of hard to when you usually have one of the third years walking you to and from class anyways.

Besides, they’re your friends, and even if everyone else hates you, they don’t.

And that’s all that matters to you.

[catcatb0y]

I have a lot of shit going on irl, so I am really sorry to anyone if I come across as crass, rude, or an asshole. I come onto Tumblr in order to escape the shit I am going through irl, so I already have very little patience when I am online.

I whole heartedly support TAG CULTURE and ao3. 'Don't like; Don't read.' I don't read a lot of dark(er) fic, because I don't like it, but it's not my place to tell others what to write. It is my place to block and filter out that content.

Please learn about censorship history before you try to push that as a good thing. Especially on Tumblr. The "they banned tits and everyone freaked out" webbed site. The site regularly mocking unalived and k!lled. Please spell out your intentions, so I can use the blacklist function properly.

1f y0u typ3 l1k3 th1s, c3ns0rsh1p 1s n0t my 3xp3ct4tion, but 1 w1ll r34d 1t 4nd sp34k y0ur l4ngu4g3.

Censorship is, and always has been, a slippery slope. The moment you argue something not being "family friendly" or say "think of the children," step back and remember that the same things have been and are still said about queer existence. It's the same thing that led to the fandom purges not too many years ago.

Please think before you regurgitate very obvious conservative and TERF takes (especially of you claim to be against them). If you are or agree with any TERFs, transmeds (people who say that trans existence is purely medical/trans people need medical intervention to be trans), or ""gender critical"" literally just go away. Science and history are against you.

With that out of the way, I don't blorbopost often (save random bursts of fanart or occasional theories (except currently I have a few vent posts)), but I am a BakuDeku fan.

Before that, though, I am a Bakugou fan. I care more about his development, treatment, and character more than I care about his importance to/part in any ship (which is unfortunately even more rare in newer fandom)

If you post jokes or memes about the current Hero Academia spoilers, deadass just block me right now. I don't want to see [redacted] and I don't fucking care. Even if it's just a softblock (assuming I follow you), I'm done. I don't want that shit on my dash.

Otherwise, I'm into a myriad of different shows (mostly anime), but I think I'm honestly done with fandom as a whole? Never be afraid to fandomtalk with me though! I'm very open to asks and DMs and post replies! This post is very harsh, because it's made after dealing with most of the shit I talk about, but I really am nice and approachable as long as you don't come into my house with terminally online takes calling me terminally online.

It's sad and pathetic.

Other than that, I (usually) don't reblog guilt-trip or anger-activist posts with the intention of agreeing with them. There are a lot of issues out in this world today, and nobody has the ability to care about them all. We certainly don't have the power, and 'privilege' isn't some Pokemon game of type weaknesses; it's a case by case issue at best and it can be easily weaponized.

My last pinned post had a better description, but honestly I've just started unfollowing people who guilt trip too much. I come here for fun.

I don't fuck with reactionary bullshit. Please stop and think for five fucking seconds. This is the internet, we have that luxury, and yet people seem to throw it out the window at the nearest chance.

Also if you make fun of (me specifically, but anyone) for writing long posts, you are cringe. Sorry you can't process more than three sentences, but I can. I keepy posts as nuanced as possible and explore man angles.

If I write too much for you to understand (non native English speakers, neurodivergent people, and anyone who has genuine difficulty reading), I will happily break down my points into smaller groups and discuss each part in a civil manner.

But if you say "I'm not reading that" I am putting your clown shoes on the other side of the door and locking you out of my house. That's cringe. Get better reading skills or go away.

[goodgirlofglory]

That which lingered on his mind / Chapter 1

Prologue - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,7k

Warnings: 18+, Non-con, dub-con, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, Graphic descriptions of violence, bondage (bound wrists), oral (f receiving), asphyxiation (choking), Cumplay, Some graphic descriptions of blood.

Chapter summary: Steve Rogers, Captain America and your former neighbor, used to harbour some secret feelings for you before he was turned into a Hydra asset. Now he’s come back to claim what he cannot rid himself of: his desire for you.

Author’s note: This one came to me a dark January night and hasn’t let me go since. This series will be about 7-8 chapters, so stay tuned! Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. My work is not to be distributed anywhere but my blog. Reblogs are welcome, though. And I so appreciate reading your replies and tags<3 hope you enjoy ;)

It started out as any other night. You had a cup of tea and scrolled through your phone for a while before a violent yawn told you it was time for bed. 

It was a normal night.

Until you stood face to face with Captain America. Or at least, who you thought was Captain America. America’s hero and your former neighbor. 

You had never really paid any attention to news about the Avengers or Mr. Rogers, and had never been one to socialize with neighbors. He lived across the hall from you and was quiet and polite, never drawing more attention to himself other than a smile and a curt greeting now and then.

That was until he disappeared off the grid about four months ago. It was all the news could talk about for a good three weeks. Gossip in the building also started flourishing. Where had he gone? What happened? Was he dead?

Apparently not, for there he stood, silent as the grave, inside your apartment, half shrouded in darkness, blocking your way to the bedroom. 

 You didn’t really know what his uniform used to look like either, but from what you could remember he used to have a star on his chest, and not the squid looking emblem he now bore. His face was also an unusual sight, jaw covered in a gruff beard, hair long and pushed back. But worse were the eyes; steely, cold and intent on you.

 Had it only been good ol’ Captain America standing uninvited in your home you would have been scared. But this. This chilled you to the bone.

 What the fuck was going on?

 Your body froze as you stared at the man, who made no effort to speak nor move. Finally you found your voice. 

“Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Please leave before I call the police.”

You tried to sound tough, but your voice shook slightly at the last word. He must have picked up on that, for his otherwise dead eyes gained a slight glimmer. 

 “Please do. Their deaths will be on your shoulders.”

A small gasp caught in your throat. You were starting to become terrified. This was absolutely not the Captain America you had seen on the news nor the Steve Rogers you had greeted in the hallway. 

“Actually, don’t bother, you’ll never reach your phone,” he continued, sounding far too nonchalant for the ominous aura he was putting off.

Your eyes widened when you remembered leaving your phone on the living room table, all the way across the room behind you. 

What should you do? Run for it anyways? Scream for help? You opted for a seemingly less provoking approach.

“What do you want?” you asked, tears starting to involuntarily form at the corners of your eyes.

His eyes seemed to darken somehow, setting themselves on you with deadly weight, piercing your soul.

“You.”

Your fight reflex kicked in before you could think, and you lunged for the front door across the living room behind you.

But you barely got a few steps in before a thick arm snaked around your waist and janked you back to hit painfully against a hard, unrelenting body. You managed to shriek in fear before a second hand, big enough to cover both your mouth and nose slammed down on your face and muffled your cries, knocking your lips against your teeth. You tasted blood.

You kicked, hit and scratched at your assailant's body, but gained only a mocking snicker in response. His mouth came down to whisper in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.

“Please, keep fighting, it only makes this more enjoyable.”

You sobbed into his coarse hand, tears springing free from your eyes, wetting the skin of his fingers. 

 He tsked

 “Cuing the waterworks. He wouldn’t like that,” he breathed into your ears and tightened his grip on your face, effectively cutting off your air supply. You squirmed against his arms in panic, new tears falling, not managing to move him even an inch. His grip remained as tight as iron. 

 As your vision blurred and you slipped into dark unconsciousness, you kept wondering what he meant by “he”.

 §

 You awoke groggily, feeling the muscles in your arms ache as they lay over your head. You usually woke up with your arms thrown over your head, so it took a few seconds to remember what had happened.

When you did, your body surged upwards, but was promptly janked back against the bed. Looking up, you registered for the first time that both of your wrists were bound to the bedpost above your head, using the bondage ropes you had gotten as a joke a few years back. Looking down you saw that you were still fully clothed, with your oversized UNI t-shirt and cotton shorts.

 The knot looked intricate and a few janks told you it was secure as well. 

 Your breathing started to race as you understood you were stuck, and a cry ripped itself from your lungs at the realization. 

 “Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a calm voice came from across the room.

“HELP,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, ignoring the man who sat in the chair in the corner. It felt good to defy him, if only for a split second. 

 He made no indication that your behaviour bothered him, his stare as even as ever. 

“I will kill anyone who enters this apartment,” he said calmly. “You don’t want to endanger any of your good neighbors' lives. That’s not who he perceived you to be. I, on the other hand, have no problem killing everyone in this building if it helps you understand what is happening here.”

 “And what the fuck is happening here exactly?” you snarled, still janking at the knot around your wrists, bound just a little too tightly.

He smirked at that.

“Feisty, just like I hoped. It’s more...fun if I can break you first,” he mused.

He got up from the chair and moved over to the bed. When he got close enough you kicked out at him, and you would have hit him right in the gut if he hadn’t caught your foot. Not that it would affect him, you bitterly thought after.

He looked almost amused before twisting your foot around until you shrieked in pain.

“Oh,” he cooed, “remember to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to come checking in on you, would we?”

He let go of your foot, and you recoiled in the pain that shot up through your body. A sob escaped your gritted teeth.

He snickered.

“Pathetic. But I do see the appeal.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your jaw in a harsh grip, making you look him in the eyes as he leaned in so close his breath brushed across your face. There was a slight hint of mint to it.

“What's happening here, sweetheart, is that I’m gonna get some things out of my system.”

His hand let go of your jaw and moved down to slightly encircle your throat, lingering like a taunting threat. Your throat constricted instinctively at the presence of his calloused hand. A smirk played at his lips as you squirmed under his light touch. 

“I’m going to fuck you, Y/N”.

 You thrashed at that, nausea setting in your stomach, your skin prickling as the words landed.  

 “No, no, no, please,” you started to mumble in your panicked state, janking  more desperately on the knot around your bound wrists.

 “Oh yes, and the more you fight, the worse it’ll be for you,” Steve smirked as he moved around the back of the bed and started to climb onto it, grabbing your kicking feet with ease, straddling your thighs.

Helpless to stop it, you watched as he took a fistful of your shirt in both his hands and ripped the fabric open, split down the middle, exposing your stomach and chest underneath. In the chilly night air your nipples hardened and goosebumps spread across your skin.

You saw the feral expression that grew behind his eyes. 

He only hummed in response to your desperate whine, before letting a hand flitter up your hip.

His fingers stroked lightly up your torso, following every dent and bump, and you shivered at how soft it was in contrast to his earlier brutality.

Your breath hitched in your throat and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low murmur, smugness shining in his eyes, mockery dripping from his voice.. 

You shut your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes, trying to quell the impulse to scream. 

You had no doubt in your mind that no one in your building could overpower the super soldier, and you were terrified he would keep his word. 

You couldn’t let anyone else die. 

 A painful tweak of a hardened nipple brought you back to the room, and you cried out.

“Don’t disappear now, I need you present for this,” he instructed in a patient voice, almost like you were a disobedient child. 

 He bent down then, and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth while his hands landed on either side of your head, caging you in.

The sensation of his hot and wet mouth in contrast to the cold air of the room sent sparks flying through your body and, more horrifyingly, down between your legs. You bit your tongue out of shame, and tried to squirm away from his wanton mouth. It took only a single hand of his on your chest to effectively pin you down as he continued his ministrations on your nipple, sucking, licking and teasing with his teeth.

He radiated warmth hovering over you like that, his hand a searing presence on your skin, no doubt feeling how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage.

His smell filled your nose, musky, with hints of smoked wood and cedar, and something familiar and sweet - your own perfume. Did he go into your bathroom? Did he use your perfume on himself?

His mouth moved up your chest and to your neck, and he was so close, so overwhelming.

You squirmed slightly at his approach, but noticed that in this position, pinned under his thighs like you were, the fabric of your panties caught on your core, dragging along the awakened skin, and to your horror you could feel the slick starting to gather there. You stifled a whimper, face burning with dread and newly bloomed shame. 

His beard scratched your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply.

“There’s that smell,” he murmured with a throaty sigh, “that smell he couldn’t get out of his head”.

What was he on about? Who was “he”? 

Your mind raced with questions as his tongue started to lap at your throat, leaving open mouthed and sloppy kisses to your sensitive skin.

You closed your eyes and tried to resist, tried to fight your body’s reaction to his stimulation, but as his teeth nipped at a particularly sweet spot, your whole body shuddered involuntarily and a small gasp escaped your mouth. 

 His face snapped up from your neck, piercing blue eyes finding yours teary and terrified - and no doubt dilated.

He straightened after a second, and shimmied off from where he was still stradling your thighs. As soon as your legs were free, you started kicking out at him, rage and defiance surging, trying and failing to hit him in the chest as he effortlessly caught both your ankles and gathered them in one hand. 

He leaned forward, face smooth and emotionless, and landed an open handed slap across your face a second later.

Your head whipped to the side, and your breath left your body for a second as your head swam, a high pitched ringing filling your ears.

You gasped in shock, your whole body going stiff as pain spread from your cheek.

You had never been hit before, and especially not that hard. Tears sprang forth from your eyes as it dawned on you how utterly fucked you were. 

“Let that be a warning,” he said in a calm voice, seemingly not affected in the slightest by the violence he was so willingly dishing out.

The fight was out of you for now, and you could only breathe through the sharp pain that lingered on your face as he moved in between your thighs.

Sitting back on his haunches he started to remove the tactical suit on his torso, impatiently ripping at the fastenings as his eyes never left your face, red, swollen and wet from your tears. 

You averted your gaze, disgusted by him, disgusted by yourself, desperately trying not to reveal your body’s reaction to his.

When he was completely naked from the waist up, his hands turned to your sleeping shorts, removing them with deft haste and surprising softness before leaning back again, his touch leaving your body. 

Several seconds went by without any action, and your curiosity gained the better of you. Turning your eyes to him, you found him studying your body. His face was as blank as ever, but his eyes betrayed some sort of sentiment you hadn’t seen before.

“He used to dream about you,” he said after a while, seemingly more to himself. 

He bent forward once he realized you were watching him, caging you in again as he hovered over you, moving closer and closer.

Face still stinging from his slap, you didn’t dare move even a muscle as his lips found yours. It started slow, but soon he grew impatient, and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot, wet and dominating, moving languidly against your own. 

Breathless and reeling, a small whimper left your mouth, and the responding groan that emitted from his throat rumbled through you.

While still moving his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands reached down and you felt the distinct calloused warmth of his touch to the inside of your thigh. 

A small, panicked “no” croaked out of you, but he only swallowed it eagerly, not letting up his touch as it zeroed in on your core. 

You could feel his fingers touching the cotton covering you, and by the breathy laughter he huffed against your mouth, he no doubt felt how wet it was.

“Oh, doll, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest,” he mocked as he leaned back again and looked down at your ruined panties. 

You tried to hide your burning face in the nook of your elbow as he ripped your panties off before bunching them up in his hand and bringing them to his face. But his eyes caught yours in a steel grip as he inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second before a pleased sigh left his lips.

You watched as his tongue swiped at the wet patch of the fabric before he put the panties in his pocket.

You thrashed at his obscene actions, nausea burning hot in the pit of your stomach, mixing with your undeniable arousal. 

What the fuck was wrong with you? 

As your mind raced against the reality of the situation, Steve laid down on the bed between your legs. His mouth attacked your pussy. 

A squeak escaped your mouth, hands janking at the knot around your wrists as he started devouring you, mouth moving between your clit and weeping wound with urgency, almost desperation. 

A full on groan left his mouth as he lapped at the juices that were steadily leaking from you. 

His hands found your breasts and started teasing your nipples, and you tried to squirm away.

You needed him to stop, you needed this assault on your senses to cease, because you could feel your resolve burning away as sweet, untainted pleasure started spreading through your body. 

Steve’s tongue swept up and swirled around your clit, and you tried inching away. One of his hands gave your breast a sharp slap before tweaking your nipple painfully again. Another warning. You headed it. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked, but in contrast to the last time it almost sounded like he cared.

You shook your head weakly. 

He chuckled against your mound and gave your breast another slap, sending jolts of pain through your chest. 

“Don’t lie,” he warned, but there was surprisingly little malice in his voice. “But nevermind. This pretty, swollen, soaked cunt tells me all I need to know,” he said almost fondly before giving your clit a few licks. 

“Give in, Y/N, I can feel how much you want to,” he taunted in between licks and all you could do was lay still and take it, new tears streaking from your eyes and wetting the hair at your temples as you squeezed them shut. 

He was right. You couldn’t deny the pleasure he was wringing from your body.

“I’m going to stay still now, and you move however you want,” he said then, before doing just that. 

Somehow, having him stop was more torture than what he had been doing, and your stubborn pride, your better judgement and the stinging feeling of violation that burned in your chest fought against your body’s sudden need for stimulation - for his stimulation. 

Something in you snapped, and you tentatively moved your hips so your clit could find his tongue, stretched out waiting for you. 

You shivered. 

It felt good. 

You rolled your hips again, more firmly this time, and the resulting swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bud of nerves had your breath leaving your body in a shaky exhale. 

His hands gave your breasts an encouraging squeeze, before resuming their attention on your nipples, and you moved your hips with more fervor. 

Before long you were grinding yourself on his mouth, breaths coming out in puffs as your eyes stayed shut, losing yourself in the hot feel of his tongue. 

Desperation grew as you could feel that distinct coil tighten in your abdomen, and every draw of breath fueled the build up. 

Not thinking anymore, you bucked your hips on him in repeated motion, lingering on the edge of the abyss, searching for that which would make the coil snap.

A desperate whimper left your mouth and as a response, a rumbling groan from his throat vibrated right through you and you fell head first into your orgasm, entire body shuddering violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream. 

He was on you as you came down, lapping up your release and groaning as you trembled at the overstimulation. He was frantically groping at your waist and hips, strong arms and hands grounding you as you floated on the aftershocks of your high.

The moment the orgasm faded from your foggy mind, it fell in on itself.

How could you let yourself give in like that? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind trying to escape the whole thing, if only for a moment, go far far away, go numb, go blank. 

You weren’t allowed more than a few seconds reprieve, however, as you faintly heard him rustling around before you felt pressure at your entrance.

Before you had time to protest, Steve pushed his cock into you, giving a pleased huff as your body squeezed instinctively, drawing him in even more. 

Your eyes shot open and met his - wild and pleased.

“There she is,” he said with dark glee as he breathed hard. 

You fought to draw breath as your body seared with pain of the intrusion. His girth was more than you could take. It was all you could do to handle the stretch of his cock bottoming out, pushed inside you to the hilt.

“Feel that? Feel how your willing cunt is swallowing me like that, inviting me in?” 

He started to move a second later, not giving you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that sent sparks of pain up through your body.

You cried out at the agony, nails digging into your own palms. 

Above you, Steve growled as he bared his teeth at you, slamming his hips against yours. 

His cock was rock hard as it speared you, and he only seemed to grow harder at your pained cries. 

Through the pain and your strained whimpering sounds, you faintly heard him mumble.

“- all those incessant thoughts about you….never like this….if he only fucking knew...ripe for the taking, and the bastard didn’t as much as ask you out...”

His hand seized your throat as he stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, inhaling fervently. Hitched breaths was the only thing that escaped you at this point, as he kept up his torturing pace, abusing your pussy without halt. 

“- That fucking smell in the hallway...never escaping it...fuck…gonna fuck those thoughts right out...”

 Was “he” Steve? Was he rambling about himself? Or at least, who he used to be?

The pain had slowly subsided as you’d listened to the man’s crazed rambling, and a deep onslaught of pleasure was starting to make itself known with each punch of Steve’s cock. Soon your body started to tremble, and you fought against the coil starting to build again. 

Steve shifted his hips to run his hands down your sides, and the new angle hit the spot deep within you that made your breathless.

Your mouth opened in a complete and utter moan, and Steve’s head snapped up from your neck, something akin to surprise in his eyes as he took in your face. 

“That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he asked, and his voice was thick with pleasure. 

You tried to avert your eyes, but his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, pulling your face so close that your breaths mingled. His stare locked yours in an iron grip. 

His thrusts slowed, and he rolled his hips, reaching deep, so deep inside you, and a pleasured sigh left your lips to fan across his lips as he found that spot again.  

“Look at you. Steve would never think of you like this - he respected you. Little did he know you were a cock hungry little masochist,” he husked, pupils deep pools of dark desire. Your cheeks burned as you clenched around him at his words.

He grunted, letting his eyes fall close for only a second, and you noticed how his long and beautiful eyelashes fanned across his cheek. 

“Let’s see how much you can enjoy this, huh?” he asked in an almost mocking tone as one of his hands reached down to where his body was rutting into yours, and his thumb found your clit. 

You cried out as he started an unrelenting circling of the sensitive bud, and he mouthed at your jaw as he hummed in response. 

In the back of your mind a small voice was telling you to fight, to gnaw and hit and thrash until he understood that you didn’t want this. Another voice was arguing that you would only be hurt further if you fought more. There was no getting away from his intent and no overpowering him.

A louder voice was whispering that it was okay to give in. Give in to the way he felt on your skin, the way he moved in you, the way he looked at you. Give in to the pleasure.

 Your orgasm washed over you like a warm wave, spasming through every muscle as they sung with exhilaration. A shuddering groan left your lips and your pussy pulsed around Steve’s cock. He growled as he crushed his lips to yours, and you opened yours willingly, moving your tongue against his in a wet and sloppy kiss. 

“Good,” he praised in a groan after breaking the kiss, and to your surprise, something akin to pride bloomed deep in your chest at his praise. 

You were completely lost in the pleasure now, in the drag of his cock against your trembling walls, his musky og smoky scent and those blue, lust-blown eyes piercing you. 

His pace quickened again, and you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that he was closing in on his own release.

“I can feel you fluttering, doll. Listen to the sounds this pretty pussy makes. Maybe I should keep you?” he mused darkly, a small wicked grin on his lips. 

For a moment terror flashed across your eyes. Keep you? In the back of your mind the pain of your still bound wrists alerted you of the implications of that notion. Your cheek was still burning hot from his earlier “warning”.

As if he read your mind, he sneered.

“Take what he never had. Continue to take what he never had. Make you mine, let you have my cock every time I want, keep this tight pussy on a leash”.

You heaved for breath as his thrusts grew frantic, and he raised himself to his haunches, hands a bruising grip on your hips as he looked down at you. 

Under the dim moonlight his muscles rippled, shining in a layer of sweat, his hair disheveled and falling into his face, and those eyes, forever shaking the bones in your body. 

Your name ghosted on his lips as his brows furrowed and your back arched as your third orgasm seized you by every muscle in your body, your head thrown back in a desperate, strangled whine.

 “Fucking shit,” he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and as your cunt pulsed around him, you drew his orgasm right out of his body. 

He gave a few stuttering thrusts before stilling, thrust to the hilt inside you. Through the blood coursing in your ears you heard his snarl as he emptied himself in you.

For a moment his face completely stilled, eyebrows raised, eyes fluttered shut, mouth slightly open. In that moment, you swore you recognised your former neighbor, Steve Rogers, Captain America in those features. 

But in a moment he was gone, and this Steve, whoever he was, was leaning forward to crush his mouth on yours. 

Still coming down from your high, you eagerly opened your mouth for him in a rather intimate kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your face. 

You almost sighed at the softness of it all when his teeth caught your bottom lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. You yelped in pain as the iron taste filled your mouth and he let you wrench your way out of the kiss, snickering as he leaned back up and licked some of your blood off his lips. His eyes were wicked  as he pulled himself out of you.

The emptiness he left behind was both a relief and a disappointment, even as your lip stung. You licked at the cut, wondering just what brand of danger had forced himself into your bed. 

“God, what a sight,” he murmured above you, fingers dipping down to spread your nether lips apart as his cum dribbled out of you. 

Embarrassment burned your face as he looked on, perverted astonishment painting his features. 

Two fingers swiped your slit, gathering both of your releases on them before bringing them up to your mouth.

When you did nothing but stare at him, he simply whispered “open”.

You obeyed, holding his gaze, and he pushed his fingers slowly into your mouth. The mix of the iron of your blood, the salt of his cum and the tangy taste of yourself made your face scrunch up, and he hummed low in his chest.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, face emotionless but for the shining sin of his eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself, you nodded.

The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, approval coating his features.

“Oh, I’m gonna keep you, alright,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers down your torso.

As his fingers slowly caressed you, exhaustion drizzled over you, your vision blurred, and you fell into unconsciousness.

 §

 When you awoke, bright daylight was shining in through your window.

The soreness piercing your muscles was like nothing you had ever felt before, but the sleep had been even deeper, sitting like a pleasurable hum in your bones. 

You remembered immediately what had happened in the night and was relieved to find that your wrists were no longer bound. The bruises, purple and pink, would probably last for weeks. 

The ache deep in your core made your gut wrench in remembered dread, but somehow there was a feeling of anticipation there as well.

A quiet voice inside you whispered that you hoped he would stay true to his word, and come back. 

Author’s note: Christ. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a blood kink brewing inside me. 

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[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Harry Potter

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Harry doesn’t get enough love.)

- You and Harry first meet at Hogwarts but he isn’t really aware of your existence until around fourth year when everyone else in the school turns their backs on him. 

- He’s making his way through the crowds of ‘Potter stinks’ buttons when he hears someone call his name. He almost doesn’t stop, expecting the same mocking he’d been receiving all week, but he does stop and there you are, giving him a small, kind smile and telling him that you “just wanted to wish him good luck in the tournament.”. 

“I-er, thanks.” He replies awkwardly, looking at you for another quick moment before nodding and quickly retreating. 

- A few days later, you were walking around the wooded areas of the school and just so happened to come across him sitting alone. You didn’t want to bother him; especially since you really didn’t know him and you sort of had a crush on the famous boy, but a twig snapped beneath your foot and he quickly glanced up at you, taking away your option of leaving before he saw you. 

- Giving a quick hello, apology, and excuse for interrupting him, you moved to walk away before you found yourself turning back and asking if he was alright. It didn’t take him long before he was explaining everything to you and; calmly, ranting about the situation. 

- You listen and give him a few words of encouragement before you find yourself walking back to Hogwarts with him, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. 

- Little by little, the two of you grow closer and become more comfortable with each other; even though he’s sort of forming a crush on you and gets easily flustered by you. 

- Probably unsurprisingly, he doesn’t just drop you when Hermione and, more so, Ron go back to being his friends. Instead, you’re welcomed into their little clique, particularly by Hermione who appreciates having another girl in the group and can immediately see that Harry has feelings for you; even if he stutteringly protests to it. 

- Funnily enough, initially, he doesn’t even think to ask you to the Yule ball until you’re sitting at breakfast one day and he looks at you and a light just goes off in his head. He’s just as nervous about asking you as he would be with anyone else; probably even more so considering the fact that he’s pretty much in love with you, but he manages to keep his cool a little better with you since you’re supposed to be his friend. 

“Erm, y/n? Would you like to go to the ball with me?” 

- When you happily agree, he gives you a “brilliant”, his heart racing and a small smile plastered across his lips. 

- Godric, the look on his face when he first saw you the day of the ball. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, his face turning a delicate shade of pink as you first took his arm and gave him a smile. He was so distracted by you that he hardly even noticed that he needed to start dancing with you, he only snapped out of it when you told him to take you by the waist. 

- It’s after the ball that he knows for sure that he’s in love with you, and if he’s able to triumph over dragons and defeat Lord Voldemort at the age of one then he can ask out the girl that he’s fallen for, right? Easier said than done.

- Harry is pretty awful with women. He’s awkward and shy and clumsy, and it’s adorable in retrospect; and in some other cases, but it’s not exactly beneficial to the evolution of your relationship. He keeps trying to confess, keeps wondering how he’s gonna do it, tries to do it but is interrupted in some way or just can’t bring himself to actually say what he wants to. 

- It isn’t until fifth year that he finally manages to do so. You’re both left alone in the room of requirement as everyone leaves after their most recent lesson. He walks over to you and the two of you talk. You ask him a few questions, make sure he’s alright with everything that’s happening and before you know it, you’re both drifting closer and kissing each other. 

- It’s soft and slow, and when you pull away, he’s got this dazed sort of look on his face that gives you butterflies. He gets a hold of himself as you go to grab your things and leave, calling out to you in a quick explosion of words, asking if you’d go out with him. 

- He has to repeat himself so that you can actually understand what he’d asked but once he does, a bright smile spreads across your face and his heart skips a beat as you agree. 

- Due to a certain frog-faced substitute headmaster, you can’t exactly express your feelings in public, but just knowing that you’re officially his girlfriend gives him a certain sense of comfort and reassurance that otherwise wouldn’t be there. 

- The girl of his dreams is finally his and he couldn’t be happier. 

- Harry, in general, just isn’t the type of person to be all over you while you’re out in public. He tends to save most of his affection for when you’re behind closed doors, mainly because he’s a bit shy and easily flustered; especially by you. 

- Given the fact that Harry was provided with nothing but negative attention throughout his entire childhood, he’s definitely going to be a bit awkward when it comes to affection. That being said: he loves when you give it to him and really starts to crave it after you first pay him special attention.

- Handholding. He’ll tentatively slip his hand into yours while you’re standing together or grip it tightly as you both excitedly run somewhere.

- He could genuinely hug you for hours if you let him.

- Gentle touches.

- Soft kisses.

- Quick kisses in the midst of danger or when he’s leaving to do something important.

- Kissing his scar. 

- Ruffling and playing with his consistently messy hair.

- Hair petting. He’ll usually stroke his hand down/through your hair as you kiss.

- Long, loving snogging sessions. Sometimes, you’ll pull off his glasses so that you can kiss him better and he just melts.

- He loves cuddling with you; it’s one of the things that really bring him comfort. You’ll usually be the little spoon whenever you do, he’ll bury his face in your hair and wrap his arms tight around you, not letting go until morning.

- Considering the fact that he has like zero experience with girls, he usually just calls you by your name since that’s what seems most natural to him.

- Flustering him whether you mean to or not; it’s usually quite easy to do since he’s so inexperienced with girls.

- Getting mini gifts. A piece of candy here, a little trinket there, things like that.

- Dates at the Three Broomsticks. He loves kissing you and tasting the butterbeer on your lips.

- Dancing together.

- Spending time alone in the room of requirements.

- Sneaking around all the unknown tunnels and rooms of Hogwarts with him.

- Him using the invisibility cloak to come see you and sneak the two of you out somewhere.

- Study dates.

- Him helping teach you spells and defensive magic. He likes seeing that look of glee on your face when you do something right, and having the excuse to hold and guide your hand/stand close to you.

- Watching his eyes widen in shock and a smile spread across his face when you do something impressive. He’s so proud of you.

- Awkwardly and shyly reading news articles written about the two of you. Your parents have quite the reaction when they find out you’re dating the boy wizard himself.

- Hagrid gushing over and teasing the two of you. He sometimes gets a little sentimental seeing the two of you together. He knew Harry when he was such a wee little thing and here he is, all grown up and in such a lovely little relationship.

- Cheering him on at Quidditch games regardless of what house you’re in. It makes him so happy to see you rooting for him.

- Endearing sarcasm. He can be a smartass when he wants to be.

- Attempting to write to him over the summer.

- Having him stay with you over the summer or at least letting him visit for some time once you hear how he’s treated by the Dursley’s.

- Running to hug him when you’re finally reunited at the beginning of the school year.

- Being teased by Malfoy. Harry has probably almost killed him a couple of times; only stopped by the fact that Ron was holding him back.

- Hermione and Ron giving the two of you looks.

- Becoming a part of the golden “trio” and having double dates with Ron and Hermione.

- Accompanying him on adventures and quests.

- When everything starts to turn to shit around you, he may try to break up with you in order to protect you. He loves you too much to risk you getting hurt because of him.

- Standing by him, even when things go wrong and other people desert him.

- Comforting him. Harry has gone through a lot and though he won’t admit it to most people, he needs a little support. You’re his rock and he couldn’t live without you.

- He always tries his best to comfort you, even though he usually has no idea how or if his plan will work. That being said, he always just seems to know how to cheer you up.

- He’s a pretty jealous person but he tries to hide it most of the time. He hates the thought; and sight, of you with other boys and gets a bit annoyed whenever he sees you with them. He’ll be a bit passive aggressive when you go over to him, saying he’s “brilliant” when you ask what’s wrong. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

- He’s always surprised whenever you actually get jealous over him but he sort of likes it. He feels bad that you’re upset and reassures you that he only loves you but he can’t deny that it feels nice to know that you care enough about him to be jealous.

- Overprotective. After everything that’s happened to him and the people around him, he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing on earth. He’d defend you with his life if he had to.

- Harry tends to give you a sort of silent treatment when he’s mad, usually before saying something passive aggressive or harsh when you don’t really acknowledge his behavior or go to leave him alone. You’ll most likely argue until the issue is solved or until he shuts you out, either doing so by walking away in a huff or causing you to leave by his lack of responses.

- Regardless of whether you were in the wrong or if he was, he’s most likely the one to approach you. If you were in the wrong, he’ll come up to you and make some comment, trying to prompt an apology; because that’s all he really wants.

- If he’s in the wrong, he’ll feel really guilty and keep staring over at you until he can’t take it and finally asks if you can talk. He’ll ask how you are before telling you that he’s sorry and that he knows he was wrong. After he does so, he’ll ask if you forgive him/if you guys can go back to normal, smiling and kissing your cheek when you agree.

- There's quite a few I love you’s in your relationship. He loves hearing you say it; even though it flusters him, and he just feels the need to let you know how much he cares about you; especially as you get older and he loses more people without being able to let them know how important they were to him.

- The two of you will have to go through some difficult situations but he knows he wants to be with you for the rest of his life. You just need to get through this rough patch and then you can have a perfect little life together.

[keiarchived]

THIRST TIMEEEE

you and dabi are out somewhere in public maybe sitting down at a table or smthn, and while ur talking to some friends his hands slither down ur skirt or pants and he starts to tweak ur clit pretty harshly. When you try to discreetly stop bucking up into his hands and whimper to look at him, he gives you a smirk and then fake pouts as he says “what’s wrong babe? What’s with that pathetic look on your face?” And he starts leaning down right in ur face as you try to subtly back up but he just grind and says “I’m not scaring you am I? You love me, right baby?” All while scraping and rubbing you🤤

Dabi is such a tease I physically cannot 💦

Tw: Public sex, teasing, edging, dubcon

It was supposed to be a important meeting between the members of LOV, where they discuss their ideas and how they should be moving forward with their plans. Not really the time to be sneaking around and playing with risks, but knowing Dabi — he will take those risks any time of the day, it’s not like the others would say anything more than giving you and him a dirty or disgusted look, that’s the thrill of it is it not?

The moment Dabi shuffled closer, you knew he was up to something. Fingers dancing across those delicate skin, rubbing them them up and down against your leg before inches closer towards your clothed crouch. Digging his finger against your clit just enough to hear that small gasp from you, when the others turn and ask if you’re okay, you could only nod and smile. Hands grasping tightly around your boyfriend’s wrist only caused him to push harder, “Dabi-!” You whispered, shivering when he pulled away.

Maybe for once Dabi has learn to listen, or so you thought. It was navies for you to think it would simply end like this.

It didn’t take long before Dabi’s hand slipped past the waistband of your bottoms, inching closer and between your folds as he finally gives the bundle of nerves the attention it deserves, rubbing harsh circles around it till you’re practically squirming to fight him off. Digging your own nails into his already damaged skin, eyes darting downwards briefly before your attention is required again.

Oh, how you’d love nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face but now is not the time. Knowing Shigaraki would most likely loose his shit once he finds out what you’ve been doing when he’s been doing nothing but talking, but when Dabi finally dips a finger into that growing wetness, you decide it might be worth a shout from the leader after all.

“What? Gonna tell on me, doll? C’mon, we both know you like it. Don’t you?” Dabi mocked quietly against your ear with a low chuckle, curling his finger even further. “Otherwise, why are you so wet right now, baby? Gonna soak through your pants and the chair if you aren’t careful.”

He was right though, you love it. The thrill that comes with it and the way he makes you feel, maybe you do want to be caught.

@sleepyrintaro good morning bb, have some food