#if standing up for someone means picking a side in his eyes or getting into conflict he will not do so

[dira333]

Latte me be your lover - Iwaizumi x reader

requested by @ur-local-simp - tagging @shoulmate for reasons

Haikyuu taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

"A hot coffee for a hot guy."

You roll your eyes. Hajime just thanks the barista and steps to the side to let you through.

The very second he turns away the smile drops from her lips and she scowls at you. But you've been anticipating it, your own smile saccharine sweet.

It's like this wherever you go. They hit on Hajime until they realize he's not coming alone. Some of them are embarrassed at your sight, others... not so much. And it's not like you're his girlfriend by any means - well, except the means of where you dream about it every night - but they don't know that, right?!?

-

"Are you going to call them?" You ask as soon as some caffeine has entered your bloodstream.

"Who?" Hajime grabs your hand and pulls you back, narrowly saving you from stepping into dogshit. Ugh.

"The barista. She wrote her number on your cup."

"She did?" He furrows his brows as he inspects the little paper thing that's wrapped around his cup to keep him burning his hands.

The amount of smugness you feel when he slips it off and uses it to pick up the dogshit and throw it away is insane. If only you could go back and tell her. Also, your crush is seriously environmentally motivated. Go, Hajime!

-

"One Latte Machiatto with extra Caramel drizzle," Hajime tells you before turning back to the girl ordering. "Anything else?"

"Your number?" She purrs, completely disregarding the line forming behind her.

"What number?" Hajime asks, stiff as a board. From where you're standing you can tell how tense his shoulders are. Bless him.

"Your phone number, duh," she laughs and you have to admit, she's really pretty. Her teeth are a little too white for your taste, though, but you know she'd be Oikawa's type. If only she'd come in yesterday when you had to endure his whining for a whole shift. It's not your fault he cannot get a girl.

"Sorry," you slip up to him, press into his side like a cat. Breathe, you scream at him in your thoughts, but your smile is sweet as you hand her her drink. "He's taken."

-

"Are you sure?" Terushima asks.

"Absolutely," you tell him, willing Hajime to work a little faster.

"You didn't even give me a chance." Terushima's not above begging to get a date, it seems. "I got a tongue piercing, you know." He sticks out his tongue but all you can hear is the splish-splash-clatter of someone dropping a drink. When you turn, Hajime's already on his knees, red-faced, wiping up the remnants of what was supposed to be Terushima's coffee order.

Terushima grins knowingly back at you. "So, since I have to wait a little longer..."

"No," you tell him, stone-faced, "Never."

"Come on!" He whines. "Like, one date?" His eyes flicker to where Hajime's disappearing in the back. "We could make him jealous."

Heat errupts in your cheeks. You knew you'd been pretty obvious in your advances, but this takes the cake.

"Don't ever ask me again," you tell him through your clenched teeth, seconds away from stabbing him with a fork. "You get me?"

He laughs, carefree and easy as if this doesn't matter to him at all.

"All good, all good. Say, do you have the number of your coworker? The cute one with the blond hair?"

You harrumph. "Give me yours," you insist, "I'm not giving out Yachi's number to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger," he defends himself, "We've been in a class for more than a year. But here," he makes a whole show of it, scribbling his number on a napkin and handing it to you, "My number. Take care of it."

You snort and tuck it into your pocket, only realizing Hajime's back when he clears his throat awkwardly behind you.

-

Hajime's been distant for the past week.

It's not unusual not to hear much from him for a few days, especially during exam season. You don't think much of it at first, because even though you've been crushing on him for the better part of your three-year friendship, you both still have a life outside of each other and the hell-hole you call work.

But then you're suddenly working your Monday shift with Makki instead of him. You've never worked Mondays without him. It's the worst day to work except maybe the weekend and he had to pinky promise to never let you down when the boss asked who'd cover it - you got free weekends but still, are pinky promises nothing worth anymore?

"Where's Hajime?" You ask Makki. The guy only shrugs. But he's been Hajime's friend longer than he's been yours so you don't think he'd tell you even if he knew.

On Wednesday you work with Mattsun. And boy, does he know what's going on. You can read it in the tilt of his eyebrows, the curve of his mouth.

"Spill," you tell him, "Or I'll never give out your number to cute girls again."

"I have a girlfriend," he replies lazily. You narrow your eyes at him.

"And apparently so do you," he continues, "Or rather, a boyfriend."

You furrow your brows. "Since when?"

"I don't know..." He doesn't seem to take this seriously at all. "I'm just telling you what Iwaizumi told me."

"Hajime told you I have a boyfriend."

"Mhm," he smiles brightly. "And then he asked to switch shifts with me."

-

Hajime has the decency to look guilty. He's ducking his head and it's probably only his manners that keep him from shutting the door on you.

"Why did you tell Mattsun I have a boyfriend."

He grimaces, but his mouth stays closed.

"Hajime," you insist, voice low, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Maybe not yet," he argues, "But Terushima..."

"That's what this is about?" You ask, "Terushima asking me out? He's done that for months and I've never shown any interest. What makes you think I would change my mind?"

"You took his number," he tells you, eyes flickering around, lips pushed forward in something like a pout. "And he's got a piercing-"

"Hajime," you say, more than just exasperated, "Girls flirt with you every time you step out of your room. If I cut contact with you every time we wouldn't be friends anymore, would we?"

He flinches a little, but he's too stubborn to give in. Yet.

"No one's flirting with me," He insists, now an angry line between his brows, "You're imagining-"

"I've been flirting with you for the past two years," you add. If you're going down, you're at least going down with everything you've got.

Hajime freezes. His eyes are wide and his hand tries to grab the door but misses.

"You- what?!"

"What do you think writing my first name with your last name means? Or writing your name on my skin pretending it's a tattoo? Or cuddling into you during movie nights?"

"You run cold!" He defends himself, "A-and... And you said my name was pretty!"

"YES!" You huff, "Because I'm in love with you!"

Hajime's mouth opens and closes without any sound coming out. Your heart is hammering painfully against your chest. One more second, you tell yourself, one more second you'll give him before you finally give up.

His hand shoots out, grabs yours, and pulls you inside before you've fully finished that thought.

"Really?" He asks, a shy smile spreading over his face. "Really really?"

"Really really really," you promise, offering him your pinky. "I swear."

-

"Wow, you've got bad taste," you tell Atsumu when he's finished his order. He balks at you, but you snicker and his twin joins your teasing.

"I'll never come to visit you at your job again," he threatens and you shrug. "Sucks to be you, I guess."

"Come on, don't be like that," Atsumu wouldn't be Atsumu if he didn't try and wheedle his way into your favorites again. His eyes flicker to the side and he grins. "Can I at least get your number?"

Hajime's chest slams into your back. You can feel his anger without turning to look.

"She's taken," your boyfriend huffs behind you. "Don't be disrespectful!"

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Caring enough to Kill (part 2)

Part two to this. Jason confronts Bruce and when it doesn't go the way he wants it to Danny is there to pick up the pieces.

tw: Mentions of sex, descriptions of violence, abusive relationships

----

Jason stumbled back into his safehouse, clutching his bleeding throat where Bruce had cut him. He could feel the tears trapped behind the stupid Domino mask and he ripped it off, sobbing as he collapsed to the floor. He had finally done it, he had confronted Bruce, told him it was Joker or Him and Bruce had, Bruce had attacked him! 'Because he took me from you'. So pathetic, Jason had practically begged, and Bruce had nearly slit his throat. So pathetic! to have believed he still even had a father!

He could swear the tears that fell to the floor had a subtle green glow as he wept, he felt helpless, worthless, purposeless! He could feel the Pits churning inside him, burning in his veins with grief and rage that might turn him into a monster for good. He would let it, maybe escaping all this human misery would mean he didn't care so much about someone caring enough to avenge him. Maybe he would finally just be able to kill Joker himself.

A floorboard creaked and he looked up sharply. Danny, sliding through the window after him. He gave Jason a look of sympathy and concern as he approached slowly, his back hunched and his knees bent, making himself as small as he could as he kept closer.

"One of your people saw you running and called me. Jason, what happened?" Danny asked softly, reaching out to touch Jason's face.

Jason couldn't stand, couldn't stand the care, couldn't stand a gentle touch that wasn't from his father. He grabbed Danny's wrist and twisted it, startling a scream out of Danny who so rarely cried out in pain. He shouldn't have, he didn't want to, but he was not in his right mind when he threw Danny to the floor. Danny who did not fight as Jason lashed out at him Again, channeling too much rage and misery into the person who probably deserved it least, but who always let him.

He was barely aware of what he was doing as he hit and kicked, though he knew that for once Danny was actually shielding his head, curled up on the floor. The rage broke suddenly, and all that was left was the sadness and the growing dizziness and nausea of blood loss. He backed away from Danny where he was curled on the floor and slumped into an armchair.

After a drawn out moment of stillness Danny uncurled from where he was laying on the floor, he spat out a tooth and some blood as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Jason noticed that he had a black eye that wasn't healing as quickly as usual, had Jason broken something? Still when Danny looked up at him it was with concern not fear.

This time when he approached it was fully on his hands and knees, creeping over to Jason again, who this time stayed still and let him, Danny knelt between Jason's legs and cupped his jaw, Jason tilted his head back and to the side, bearing his neck to Danny so he could get a good look at the injury.

Danny grimaced sympathetically and kissed the corner of Jason's mouth before flitting away to the bathroom, he came back moments later with the well stocked first aid kit and knelt by Jason again. Jason stayed still, allowing Danny to gently clean the wound, stitching it up, besides the small place where it had ruptured his windpipe so the fluids would have somewhere to go besides down Jason's throat. By the time he finished and had bandaged the wound the black eye had healed as well and besides the blood on Danny's face there was no sign of what Jason had done.

There was no sign of it in Danny's behaviour either, as he curled up on Jason's lap, leaning against his chest and wrapping his arms loosely around his shoulders. There was no fear in Danny's posture, no anger. How could he love so unconditionally? Especially someone like Jason, who so clearly didn't deserve it. They stayed there until Jason fell asleep, exhaustion winning out over everything else.

Jason woke up in bed, and confused, how had Danny gotten him here without waking him?! He must have been more tired then he realized. Danny was there too, on his side next to Jason with an arm around his waist. As soon as he felt Jason stir he sat up and reached over to the bedside table where there was a bottle of water, unopened, which he offered to Jason.

He took it and drank deeply, finishing about half before he offered it back to Danny who took a few gulps as well before putting it down and laying back down with his head propped on Jason's shoulder. "I've never seen you that angry," He murmured against Jason's skin who winced, remembering just what he'd done yesterday. Danny had showered, and cleaned Jason up as best he could so there weren't really any signs of it but still...

"I'm sorry," He murmured and felt Danny shake his head.

"It's okay. I'm not upset, just worried. What happened Jason?" He asked softly.

Jason felt tears burning the back of his eyes again and he huffed, biting his lip for a moment, but Danny deserved to know. "It was my father again. I finally asked him outright why he hadn't avenged me, I basically begged him to, even let Me kill him and witness it. And you know what he did? He slit my throat to stop me, he chose the Joker over me." Jason gave a bitter little laugh, and was genuinely startled by the snarl Danny let out, he'd never heard him make a noise like that, but it continued, a deep, inhuman growl that didn't pause even when Danny spoke, creating a dark undercurrent to his voice.

"Who is your father," He asked, and Jason felt a chill run down his spine.

"Batman, but don't confront him Danny. I don't really have a father anymore. He can't change, I'd rather focus on the things I can change."

"Like the Joker's status as living?" Danny said dryly, but the growling did ease off.

Jason winced and sighed before he looked to the side. "As much as I know the world would be better off without him, something is holding me back from doing it. I do a lot of avenging people, killing rapists and traffickers and shit. Is it so bad to want to Be avenged for once?"

"No, it's not," Danny said softly. "Does it have to be Batman, or would someone else who loves you doing it be enough?" 'Would I be enough' goes unsaid.

"Yes, that would be enough."

----------

Jason's throat healed, months passed and Danny didn't mention the conversation they'd had about the Joker. Jason threw himself into work, gaining control of more of the drug trade to make sure his rules were followed. He set up safe injection sites and rehabs. He killed corrupt police, politicians, traffickers and anyone who harmed children, cleaning out his turf in the most permanent way he could, making it safe for the kids, the working girls, and everyone else who called it home without being a Complete piece of shit.

Danny kept him from completely losing himself, dragging him away from work for date nights, meals and to get some sleep. Occasionally Jason got angry, occasionally he lashed out, but Danny never held onto those times. Danny didn't only pull him away from work though, since they'd gotten together he started participating even more in Jason's work. He was no longer just a 'goon'.

He designed himself a costume, with a pattern different shades of brown and red, a muzzle covering the lower half of his face and a colour. The first time Jason had seen Danny in the tight leather... let's just say Danny hadn't kept it on for very long, Jason Really liked the collar. Danny called himself Hyena, like it was a joke Jason didn't fully understand. He was Jason's second in command and he gave orders when Red Hood wasn't around since he knew what Red Hood would want. It was almost like being able to be two places at once and Jason was incredibly grateful to Danny for it.

The Joker still being out there was the only thing that kept nagging at Jason, and as they got closer and closer to the anniversary of his death the worse it got. He thought he might have been imagining it but he though Danny was pulling away a bit too. He was busy more often then usual and distant in a way that made Jason worry he was keeping secrets, though he had no idea WHAT they might be since his life genuinely did seem to revolve around Red Hood and his mission.

When the day of his death came Danny was nowhere to be seen and Jason shut himself up on his office to focus on work, reading reports and writing responses. Doing whatever he could to try not to think about what had happened this day five years ago, and how Joker was either not thinking about it at all, or celebrating.

He had explicitly said for no one but Fox to disturb him today so when there was a pounding at a door he was ready to Fucking Kill someone! Danny never knocked like that, usually he just let himself in, so he knew that wasn't Danny. He got up from his desk so abruptly he knocked his chair over and stomped over to yank the door open.

"Please don't shoot! Hyena is in trouble!" The goon at the door, Marcus he though, cowered. Marcus got along with Danny, they might even friends, he would know.

"What happened?" Jason snarled through the voice modulator on his helmet, but he wasn't about to bite Marcus' head off anymore.

"He left your turf in costume this morning, I tried to tell him not to but he didn't listen to me! We've got reports he's on his way back but the Bats are on his tail! You have a tracker on him don't you?! He's gonna need help!" Marcus said in a panic and Jason grabbed his coat and his phone.

"Ya I do I'm not going to let them touch him," Jason snarled checking his guns before he practically bolted out of the building wondering what the Hell Danny had gotten himself into.

He grabbed his grapple and headed to meet Hyena as quickly as he could. He knew Danny was fast but Bruce and the Replacement would catch him eventually if none of the others were already on their way to intercept.

He heard Hyena before he saw them, the high cackling of the manic laughter Danny tended to lean into when he was in his Hyena persona, then Jason saw him, he planted his feet on a rooftop just inside crime ally and drew his guns. He saw the moment Danny spotted him and slightly adjusted his flight so he landed on the same roof as Jason, rolling to absorb his momentum and skidded to a stop half hiding behind Jason as he grinned at the Bats who had also come to a stop on the roof across from them with the muzzles of Jason's guns trained on them.

"Sorry about this, I knew what I was doing but I don't know the placement of the cameras all over Gotham, I didn't know they saw me," Danny said, resting his hands on Jason's shoulders.

"What did you do Hyena?" Jason asked without looking away from Batman and Robin.

Danny cackled again, the Hyena laugh that made him shiver just a little. He ducked out from behind Jason and got halfway between the two groups in the stand off. He pulled the bag Jason hadn't noticed off his shoulder and reached inside. Jason could tell Danny was smiling at him from behind the muzzle as he grabbed something and pulled out... The joker's head, Jason's breathing caught in his throat.

"Happy death day baby," Danny said fondly, his voice loud enough that Batman and Robin would be able to hear as well. "Someone cares about you enough to avenge you."

It was brutal, and final, it was a decoration of love as surely as anything else and so much better then a dozen roses. Jason thought he would be horrified, fixated on the head, but the Joker was just a lump of flesh now, a horrified expression fixated on his face as if he hadn't actually expected anyone to kill him. Nothing to be scared of anymore.

"Holy shit," Jason laughed and turned to Danny, scooping him up making Danny yelp in surprise and drop the bag, the Jokers head rolling away as Jason twirled a laughing Danny. "I love you so much Cub! This is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me!" He cheered and Danny blushed all the way to his slightly pointed ears, clearly pleased.

It was the first time Jason had said he loved him and Danny felt like he had won the lottery! He couldn't control his purring as Jason put him back down, he snuggled into Jason's side as he aimed his gun and put a bullet in Joker's decapitated head just for the catharsis of it.

"Jaylad," Bruce's voice was soft and betrayed. As if he had any fucking right!

Reminded of his presence Jason's gaze snapped back to Bruce, as did his guns, pointed at Batman and Robin again. "If you're planning to arrest Hyena for this I will not hesitate to shoot. If you take one step inside My territory," Jason snarled at them. "You can take the head if you want, I don't need to keep a lump of rotting flesh, I just needed to know Someone gave a shit." He stepped forward and kicked the head like a football, sending it hurtling at Batman with pretty damn good aim as Danny cackled behind him, high and loud.

Batman caught it, more on instinct then anything, but it was evidence, it was a body, he would take it, and the corpse from wherever Danny had left it. "Now if you'll excuse us, I think we have a celebration to plan!" Jason said before he shot at them, he wasn't aiming to kill, just to make them leave and it worked. They dashed off and Jason turned back towards Danny.

"I love you too," Danny said, soft and warm, pressing himself against Jason's chest. "Now take me home and Fuck me~"

Jason laughed and scooped Danny up into his arms, letting him wrap his arms back around Jason and cling as he set a quick pace towards their nearest safe house.

Part 2.5

[blueicequeen19]

Eight

Warnings: dark, mean Rafe, Non-Con, oral, face fucking, public-ish setting, blackmail, sex for money

You stop at the edge of the in ground hot tub, crossing your arms when you see the way he's eyeing you like a prize. You hate that smug smirk and how good he looks no matter what. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. No one realized how deadly he really was beneath the nice guy act.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask, diverting your eyes when he stands in all his naked glory. Every inch of your body heats uncontrollably. Why was he naked in a hot tub at a party?

"Now, now, that's not a good tone to have. You should be happy you’re here." You level him with a glare as he comes to stand at the side of the hot tub closest to you, looking up under his lashes.

"I thought I wasn't allowed at your parties."

"You're not but I'm bored." Rafe shrugs a shoulder.

"You summoned me out of bed because you're bored?"

"Get used to it, darling. You're mine for a month, remember?" How could you forget? You kept waiting for the moment that he demands you spread your legs for him. So far it had just been running errands, answering his work phone, or cleaning up after him. But he’d made it clear in the beginning that he could have whatever he wanted from you.

"Let's play a game. Pick a number."

"I don't want to play."

"Pick a number, one through ten. I promise you'll love it." You bite your lip, hating yourself for the mess you'd got yourself into.

"Eight."

"Like Figure Eight, your new home."

"Rafe--."

"Okay, so if you can endure me for eight minutes, I'll let you leave, no questions asked."

"Endure you?"

"If you lose, then you have to take care of me too." You swallow the lump in your throat, the look in his eyes telling you this wasn't a game you wanted to play.

"Or you can refuse and find another way to pay your tuition." Rafe smiled, knowing he'd won as he sat back down on the opposite side of the tub. Your legs shook as you looked for a way out but once again, Rafe had you cornered.

"Fine." You bit out, looking around to make sure no one else was outside from the party.

"Strip." There was no use arguing so you quickly slipped off your sleep shirt and shorts, leaving you in just your panties as you quickly crossed your arms to conceal your breasts.

"Get in." Rafe's breathing became labored as you slowly descended into the hot water. You couldn't believe the way he was looking at you. Like you were the most desirable thing he'd ever seen. It was nearly impossible to keep from looking under the water to see how much you affected him. Rafe took your hand, guiding you to plant your feet on either side of his hips on the seat, his head eye level with your panties.

"What are you going to do?" You whimpered, watching as he kept his eyes trained on you while he brushed his nose against your panties.

"Savor this." His nose nudged your clit and your knees nearly gave out. Two firm hands found the back of your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to tease with his nose.

"Rafe, please. This is humiliating." What if someone came outside and saw?

"So? I can feel how wet you are for me." Rafe breathed, jutting out his tongue and flicking it against your clit. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you bit back a moan, a wicked look in his eyes as he continued his torture.

"Eight minutes." Rafe said, setting a timer on his phone then tugging your panties aside with one hand while his free hand tightened on the back of your thigh. How could you endure eight minutes of this? You were already shaking.

You gasped when his hot, wet tongue swiped up your slit, circling your clit a few times before sucking it into his mouth. Again and again. Rafe set a perfect rhythm. The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever felt. Your hands found his hair as you fought to remain standing. Rafe groaned like you were the best thing he'd ever tasted, the vibrations going straight to your core.

"Please Rafe, this isn't fair." You whined as he applied more pressure, his hands squeezing your ass to hold you in place. A sound like a growl and a groan left him before he plunged his tongue inside you, fucking you like he would with his..

You came with a cry, your entire body nearly dropping into the water if not for his hold on you. There was a sudden feeling of being weightless then your back was on his towel on the deck, his mouth attached to your pussy again.

"Rafe, please." You cried, squeezing his head with your thighs just as the timer went off on his phone. Rafe pried your legs back open and your body bowed off the towel as another release hit you. Rafe sucked and slurped the tiny nub until it was too much. Until the pain overruled the pleasure and you were trying to roll away.

Finally, Rafe released you, his lower half still in the hot tub as he wiped his mouth. Even his nose glistened with your release. Your entire body shook as you watched each other. You'd never felt anything so powerful. His cock flexed between his legs, drawing your attention to the angry looking member.

"My turn." Rafe pulled himself up on the side of the tub, jerking you into a sitting position before you could grasp what he meant. His fingers knotted in your hair then he was forcing your head down. You opened your mouth, gagging as soon as he hit the back of your throat. Tears sprung in your eyes as you tried to get your bearings but his cock was impressively long.

"Suck." Rafe demanded, his own body trembling as you pulled your teeth back and wrapped your lips around him. His hips jerked up with each push and pull of your head, each time making you gag. Despite hating the circumstances of the events, you wanted him to enjoy it. There was nothing worse than rumors about being a terrible lover but the angle was awkward.

"I'm cumming." Already!? A throaty groan filled the air as he held your head down, spilling down your throat so you had no choice but to swallow all of it. When your tongue met his shaft, he shuddered as he emptied every drop. You swallowed repeatedly, your throat tightening around his shaft until he was tugging you free by the hair.

"Fuckkkkk." Rafe dropped down on the towel next to you, his cock glistening and still standing to full attention. You reached for your shirt but Rafe snagged it, tossing it away before pulling you onto his lap as he sat upright.

"Rafe." You breathed, your throat sore and your head pounding from the lack of air. His cock pressed against your panties and your clit throbbed harder than ever. The night air was cool compared to the hot tub, making your pebbled nipples press hard against his chest.

"You're lucky I didn't cum all over your face like you did mine." The look in his eyes was crazed, thirsty for more.

"Please let me leave." You murmured, cheeks heating with humiliation. You could smell yourself on him. Rafe chuckled, reaching to turn the timer off on his phone before turning his attention back to you. His hands rocked you on his lap, making you grind against his hardening erection as your nipples rubbed against his chest.

"You lost, baby. You don't get to leave now. I still need to be taken care of."

[derlost]

★ bakery bliss ༉‧₊˚

ミ ABOUT~ °•*⁀➷ in which you, a darling little baker in hell, come across a most unique client. could it blossom into something more? stick around to find out!

✧･ﾟWARNINGS ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ none really, only tooth-rotting fluff. written with a gn / male reader in mind

ミ AUTHOR’S NOTE ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥hello lovely readers! i’ve been working on this for a long time, and as such, i hope you guys enjoy it! side note for those who’ve been around for a little longer- all requests will be completed shortly, don’t worry! in any case, i hope you all enjoy :)

♥︎ you never planned on going to hell. i mean, nobody really planned on it, but it sure was unexpected, especially for you- someone who did practically no wrong during their life. you were a morally good person- a kind friend, an honest employee, and a helpful samaritan on the streets. no, you weren’t meant to be here at all.

despite it all however, you adapted to the demonic realm quite quickly. you opened a lovely little bakery on the east side of the pentagram, and business was booming. sure, the average sinner might’ve scoffed at your business, but you didn’t mind- not when you were focused on the weirder of your clients…

meetings folks from cannibal town was a given- you only lived a few blocks away, and it seemed that they much enjoyed old-timey bakeries and blueberry muffins to wash down a most questionable meal. you had no issue with these people at all- they were always polite, they kept you in business, and they kept corpses off your patio. this clientele didn’t concern you- they were earnest individuals, and frankly, you enjoyed their visits. it was instead the visits of the ‘adult film’ actors from down the way that really confused you.

similar to how you lived only a few blocks from cannibal town, you also lived a few blocks from hell’s biggest porn studio- owned by the famous overlord valentino himself. their jobs didn’t bother you- more so the tired, poor status of the workers- and when they started coming in just before closing to get a little snack, you began staying up later. one night specifically, you met quite the character…

-

the bell tied to the handle of your door rang a polite little jingle, and you jolted, immediately standing straight up. you had nearly dozed off- and as you trained your eyes to the door, you recognized the man immediately.

it was none other than the one and only angeldust- arguably the most famous pornstar in all of hell. his face was plastered over countless billboards and advertisements, but you were currently more preoccupied with the fact that he was standing in your shop at the asscrack of dawn. with a friendly wave to your new customer, you began to speak. “welcome to the loafing around bakery, i’m m/n! if you need any recommendations or help picking something out, i’ve got you covered.” the spider demon gave the bubblegum in his mouth a final pop before tossing it into the trash, taking his sunglasses off.

“heya, toots. neat little establishment you’ve got here, eh? how’d it get started?” “oh,” you replied with a playful smile, “i loved baking when i was alive, but never got the chance to open a shop. i decided i’d take a chance and roll the dice down here.” “yeah? how’s that working out for you?” you giggled, leaning over the counter, nearly pulling back from the cold- damn this shop and its icy countertops. “i’d say it’s pretty good! a lot of drop ins from cannibal town residents, and um…your crowd.” to this, the white-haired man let out a loud laugh, snorting at your words. “my crowd, eh?? i’ll hand it to you doll, you’re pretty funny. aaaaanyway, my coworkers have been praising this place like it’s the second coming of christ, so i thought i’d stop by. what do you recommend, hmm?” the spider demon pulled his hair through his fingers, giving you a teasing coy smile. he was different from the others…a lot different. you could tell.

after realizing you were staring, you feigned a grin and sat up straight, walking over to behind the display case. “my personal favorites are honeylemon morning and blueberry tea dreams, but normally when people come in during this time of night, i’d recommend them coffee kisses or banana snuggles.” the actor seemed amused at the names of your muffins and cracked a grin, his single golden tooth shining from the glow of your shop’s lights. “coffee kisses or banana snuggles, eh? but what if i wanted to be bold? like, do you do cupcakes?” you paused to giggle, sweeping a stray strand of hair behind your ear. oh, he would be the death of you.

“sometimes. i think we have ‘all the razz’ in stock, but that’s really the only bold cupcake flavor i can think of now.” to this, he quirked a brow. “all the razz?” with a quick nod, you answered. “yes! it’s a uh…a raspberry cake with raspberry filling and frosting. quite delightful, if i may say so myself. though, i wouldn’t recommend it at this hour. you should really get something lighter so you can sleep better.” the spider demon chuckled lightly at your comment, straightening his jacket. “is that so, sweet cheeks?” you couldn’t help the blush creeping onto your face and disguised it with a nervous laugh. “oh, um, well, i just think…y’know, with it being so late in the night, you should probably eat something easier on the stomach and just go get some rest…” you awkwardly averted your gaze to the trashcan in the corner of the room, praying he wouldn’t notice- which he inevitably did- but you ignored it further. the demon’s expression softened, and he stepped closer to the counter.

“aww, well aren’t you a delight? lookin’ out for me, hm?” the spider demon paused to chuckle, the look in his eyes full of genuine curiosity. why were you being so sweet? don’t you know you’re in hell? don’t you know how most people treat him? still, he supposed he couldn’t deny the fact that your kindness was much appreciated, and continued to butter you up. “what a cutie. in that case, i’ll take one of the cupcakes, and one of your favorite sleepy-time muffins. that sound good, pipsqueak?” with a dopey grin you nodded, grabbing a box- medium sized, specially to fit both- and carefully placed in both a raspberry cupcake and a ‘chamomile bliss’ muffin. your hands were nimble and precise as you boxed them up, despite it being far past your bedtime. you moved to the register and began to ring him up, sliding the lovely little pink and white box towards him.

“that’ll be three dollars and fifty cents.” the actor scrunched his nose up, putting a hand on his hip. while he had been nothing but nice to you, you could certainly understand the rumors of him being intimidating- he had a…loud personality to say the least, and you could tell he was quite confident just from his mannerisms. “hon, are you sure i don’t owe you more? feels like a crime to pay you so little, if’m bein’ honest.” with a sincere glance, you began to explain yourself.

“the muffin is on the house.” you spoke gently, blinking at him with a look that could only be described as homey. “on the house?” he questioned, clearly shocked. “oh,nonononono doll, i couldn’t do that. i-” “no, really!! consider it my gift for getting to meet you. just wanna make sure people in your business get enough to eat and that you all sleep. if you insist on paying me, just promise you’ll get some rest. that’s all i ask.” the actor hesitated- he hadn’t seen genuine kindness like yours in a long time- and slowly, allowed himself to break into a cheesy grin, swiping his card.

“you’re too good for this place, toots. don’t let anyone take advantage of that fact, a’ight?” you chuckled in response, waving a hand as you printed out his receipt and passed it to him, wholly blind to the fact that he was casually shoving multiple ten dollar bills into your tip jar. “I’ll manage, but i appreciate your concern. between your coworkers and the residents of cannibal town, i’d say i’m pretty well protected here, ahaha.” the spider demon tenderly took the box into his hands, holding it with care as to make sure nothing got shaken or messed up. taking a step back, he chuckled to you. “i get why everyone likes this place now, it’s a real treat, and i don’t just mean the desserts. in any case, thanks so much for the muffin an’ all of that. you have no idea how much it means to me.”

the white-haired man put his sunglasses back on and slung his purse over his shoulder, beginning to walk to the door, only turning back to wave. “i’ll be back soon sugar, so don’t run out of those lovely little muffins of yours, kay?” his sweet disposition definitely confirmed to you that you had done the right thing- that he was someone worth helping. with a soft wave, you nodded in return. “will do.” “take care of yourself, okay? goodnight, m/n. thanks again for the lovely midnight snack.”

you couldn’t help but beam as the bell on the door jingled upon his departure, and you yawned, leaning onto your elbows atop the counter. yeah, you thought. he was nice. maybe i’ll see him again. and as for him? well, his thoughts weren’t too far off from yours.

yeah, he thought. you were a real sweetheart. maybe he’d see you again sometime…

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ミ AUTHOR’S NOTE 2˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥hello again! i hope you all enjoyed this fic, and if so, please consider checking out my other works or sending in a request! i adore writing for people, so rest assured i would be happy to write anything you come up with. thank you all again, have a lovely day!

[echobx]

the one with the letter - jj maybank × ex!fem!reader

summary: you have to figure out if your love for JJ is stronger than what the world throws at you

warnings: Luke..., hurt/comfort, angsty, happy ending

word count: 2k

author's note: part 3 bc I had to. it didn't feel right to let you guys hanging. and no matter how much I try to write a JJ fic that doesn't have a happy ending, it just doesn't work. he always finds a way. he's one persistent bbg.

part 1 | part 2

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The two days that you are supposed to stay in bed and focus on getting better feel like a month to you. Going back to school feels even worse. Everyone seems to have their eyes pinned on you, to the point where you find yourself hiding in the photo lab to avoid everyone and everything for just the half hour that is your lunchtime. But yet again you aren't granted the simplicity of loneliness when you need it most.

“Jesus, y/n!” Pope jumps and nearly drops his camera in the process. “What are you doing here?” “Hiding,” you reply, looking up at him and his sad smile. “Why?” “Because everyone hates me. I get it. I'd hate myself too,” you whisper, and he crouches down by your side. “I don't hate you,” he shakes his head, and you close your eyes to focus. He should hate you. You keep on hurting his best friend. He should definitely hate you. He places the camera on the floor next to him before sighing. “Love's messy.” “No, that's just me,” you say, picking at your nails. “I'm the problem.” “You're allowed to feel sad or hurt or anything,” he whispers and takes your hand in his. “I'm glad you're better. JJ was losing his mind when your mom kicked him out. And he's not much better now either. Refused to come to school because you didn't reply to his letter.” Your head perks up, and you furrow your brows, blinking a few times. “Letter?” “Yeah, the letter he left you at the hospital,” Pope explains, but your confused expression lets it dawn on him that you had never known about a letter. “There's no letter. I don't have a letter,” you insist, and he runs his hand over his face. “Shit,” he hisses silently, and you stand up, heart pounding when you reach for your bag and pull it over your shoulder. “I have to go,” you mumble, and even though he tries to stop you, you won't let him.

You curse your mom on the whole way down to the Cut, and it's a long way, but you don't stop. You can't. When you arrive at the Shack, you can hear them screaming, it's not unlike what you had witnessed before. But this time you don't stop and wait for it to die down a little before walking in. “You're an ungrateful bastard!” Luke yells, but as soon as he sees you, he stops and a mean smile plays on his face. “Haven't seen that one in a while. Why are you here? He knock you up?” Luke taunts and you swallow hard. “Don't talk about her like that,” JJ snaps at him, taking a step closer to his dad. His fists are balled and the knuckles bruised. “She's a bitch just like her mama,” Luke spits and JJ lunges forward, but he's pushed back instantly. You try to focus on your breathing to not lose yourself in the pain that is flooding your body as you watch him get hurt.

“Let go!” you scream from the top of your lungs, and for some reason they stop to look at you. One step forward as you glare at Luke, and he drops JJ to the floor, a shallow thump tells you that his head hit the wood not so softly. But you can't drag your eyes off Luke, if you do, he wins. “You don't get to tell me what to do in my own house, Missy,” he glares, but you take another step closer, your eye twitching. “I'm not afraid of you,” you hiss, and he scoffs, but you don't give him enough time to come up with a comment. “You're nothing but a drunk, child beating asshole. You don't deserve him. And it's baffling to me how someone like you was capable of fucking up so massively, but he still turned out better than anyone I've ever met. And I know I don't deserve him either, but at least I don't make him feel like shit just for being born.” Luke swallows, looking down at JJ. “If she's not gone by the time I get back, you can look for a new home, boy.”

It feels like a million tons are lifted off your chest when you hear the screen door hit against the wood and the engine of his truck start and drive off. “You shouldn't have done that,” JJ shakes his head as you turn to him. He has a cut on his lip and his right eye is starting to slowly swell up. “You're hurt,” you whisper and reach up to touch his cheek, but he turns away. “Why are you here? Wanna rip my heart out a third time?” There's resentment in his voice, but you get stuck on his counting. What was the second time? “I came to ask something. Something important,” you whisper, but it has escaped your mind. The condition he is in feels worse to you than before. It's like a repetitive gut punch paired with slaps to your face, but your pain wasn't physical, it was all in your head. “Can I please take care of you?” you beg, and he swallows but nods.

The bathroom is a mess, just like the whole house, but you don't care, you never did. It makes sense to you. It was one of the reasons why JJ had always felt more at home at your home than his own. It was the reason, why you rather stayed at the Château together than at his or at yours, where you'd always run the risk of your mom kicking him out. You clean his cuts and softly press the cold, wet washcloth to his eye. Although you haven't patched him up in months, it feels like no time has passed since the last time. “Thank you,” JJ whispers and takes the washcloth from your hand to hold onto it by himself. “Why did you say I was going to break your heart a third time?” you ask tentatively, sitting down on the closed toilet opposite of him, while his hand clasps around the edge of the tub he's sitting on. “I didn't wanna make you feel worse about it. It wasn't my choice to make. And it was too late already, so it didn't matter. But it hurt, it still hurts,” he mumbles without looking at you. “I keep having this nightmare- it's not really a nightmare, I guess. But when I wake up, I feel worse, and I wish the dream was real instead of my actual life.” “What happens in your dream?” you whisper. “You never leave me, we- we have the kid, and it's not easy, but it's happy. It feels warm and it doesn't hurt. And then I wake up, and it's just painful. It hurts so much, y/n.” “I'm sorry,” you apologize, but you know it's not enough. You know it won't undo all the pain you caused him. “And now you're here to tell me what? That I need to move on? Find someone better?” JJ's eyes find yours, and it feels like getting stabbed while someone keeps twisting the knife.

“Pope said you wrote me a letter,” you start, and he rolls his eyes. “So you talk to him but not me?” “JJ, listen to me,” you grab his face with both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. “I never got it. I was alone, and she said she told you to leave, and then you didn't text me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after that night, that's why I didn't text you either. But I don't know about any letter. I mean, I didn't even know it existed before Pope found me in the photo lab and told me, and then I ran here immediately. I'm sorry.” You take a deep breath, and he searches your face, and for once you're not even lying to yourself anymore. “I was scared is all, that's why I wrote it,” he shrugs his shoulders, and you drop your hands down to your thighs. “What did it say?” “That I wish I could turn back time and make you feel more loved than I did. That I hate seeing you smile at that jerk. That I- That I don't want to ever lose you again. You scared me so much, and I don't know why you ran after him, and then you fell, and I wasn't fast enough, I couldn't stop your fall. And I felt like I lost you for good, forever, and John B drove like a maniac, and it wasn't fast enough. And then they didn't let me stay with you at first, and I had to sit there while they did all those tests, and they didn't tell me shit. I wanted to stay, wait until you woke up but- Your mom said it was my fault, and I believed her. Because it's always my fault. So I wrote it down, how much I do love you but that it's not gonna work because it can't be, she's right. And I asked her to give it to you. I promised to stay away if she would just give you the letter. Because I couldn't- I thought you were dead, and I was ready to end it too, if it meant I could be with you. I know that's stupid, but that's how I felt. And now you know, and you can leave, because you should leave. I'm not good for you, I never was, and you knew that, that's why you left me,” he finishes his venting, but you have no words left in you. There was nothing you could say that would make it better because words were not enough to encompass how you feel.

You lean forward, brushing the palm of your hand over his cheek before holding onto it and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He tastes like beer and blood, a weird mix, but a familiar one at that. “What are you doing?” JJ whispers against your lips, but you kiss him again. And he kisses you back, cautiously slow. “I'm not gonna leave ever again, I promise,” you whisper, and he looks into your eyes, pain and anxiety still prevalent in his own. “Are you sure?” he asks, brushing through your hair with his free hand. “Positive. We can get our own place, just you and me. Maybe that'll make it easier,” you smile and he nods. “I'm very sorry for what I did,” you apologize again. “I made Kie write those notes. She didn't want to. Said you don't deserve it after all,” he mumbles. “They don't know about- You know…” “I didn't tell anyone either,” you admit and he nods.

“You stood up to my dad,” JJ chuckles. “That was incredibly stupid, you know that, right?” “Yeah, but he deserves it,” you press your face into his chest. His bed, his arms, all of it makes you feel more alive than anything you had done the past months. “You really don't think you deserve me? You know I'm nothing but a weed smoking delinquent, right?” “Who said that?” you pull away to look at him. “Guess,” he snorts, and you furrow your brows in anger. “I hate her. That's the only thing he was right about. She is a bitch,” you exhale the anger over your own mother. “What'ya think happened between them two?” JJ wonders and you sigh. “My mom being my mom, and Luke being Luke…, I'm guessing nothing pretty.”

“I love you, y/n. And I don't think I'll ever stop, no matter how hard it gets,” JJ whispers and kisses the top of your head. “It's gonna be pretty hard, knowing you,” you giggle, and he fakes a gasp. “I see how it is. First, you steal my heart, then my jokes.” “I learned from the best,” you grin at him and he kisses you. It feels like the very first time. Exciting and with millions of butterflies in your stomach, and at the same time it's a forever kiss. It's a promise that you won't break, because you finally understand that you can't be without him. “I love you, too, J,” you hush against his lips, and he smiles into another kiss.

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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist:@ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

[fallenclan]

Now I bend like a willow, thinking of you

‘Do you want to hear,’ Moxie says, ‘the story of Goldenstar?’

‘Yes, please!’ Mistykit tucks her paws under herself, rests her head on the end of the nest and blinks politely up at Moxie—the silver she-cat purrs, amused.

‘Isn’t he alive still?’ Sleepykit mews. Willowkit pushes him. 

‘Shut up! I wanna hear the story.’ She turns her face to Moxie. ‘Please?’

Moxie licks her forehead. ‘Sleepykit, Goldenstar founded this Clan. Aren’t you interested? Willowkit, it’s not nice to tell someone to shut up.’

‘Sorry Sleepykit…’ Willowkit grumbles, and he whisks his stubby tail, pleased. 

–

Willowkit can hear yowling. Bluefern curls around her and over her and Willowkit burrows into her mother and tries not to scent the fear emanating from Bluefern’s belly. 

‘What’s happening?’ Icekit whimpers. ‘Mama, I’m scared.’

‘It’ll be alright,’ Bluefern says. ‘I’ll protect you. Moxie and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.’

Toro, her silhouette black against the entrance to the nursery, makes a horrible, cut-off gasp, and Willowkit huddles against her mama as cats pour into the camp, claws gleaming against the moonlight. 

Bluefern stands over her kits, fur bristling and a snarl on her lips, but it’s no use.

Willowkit squeezes her eyes tightly shut and tries to camouflage with the nest.

– 

‘Goldenstar was a kittypet’s kit. His mama was called Hera. He had two siblings, Nola and Cinnamon. Just like you, Mistykit.’

‘Not just like me!’ Mistykit hisses, her polite demeanor falling. ‘I had five siblings!’

Moxie blinks, as though trying to hold back tears. 

‘I know, lovely. Maybe Goldenstar had five as well.’ She pulls Mistykit close with one paw and licks the top of her head, and Willowkit stumbles closer as well, trying to get Moxie to notice her.

– 

Willowkit holds her breath, jumping from paw to paw nervously. Who would Goldenstar pick as her mentor? Someone nice, like Hailcrash? Or someone grumpy and mean like Wormshade? 

Sleepypaw blinks reassuringly at her from where he’s standing next to Newtscar. Willowkit takes a deep breath, sneaks a glance at Mistykit–paw! Mistypaw doesn’t seem like she cares at all! She’s too busy staring up in awe at Blizzardfang.

Wait! What if she gets Crowflame? He seems scary, but he was always nice to them… 

‘Willowkit,’ Goldenstar says gently. ‘Step forward. You are now six moons old, and it is time you were apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Willowpaw. Your mentor will be Henryclaw. I trust he will pass down all he knows to you.’

Henryclaw gapes at him. Goldenstar smiles slightly. Willowpaw starts hopping from paw to paw again. 

‘Henryclaw, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You have shown yourself to be wise and insightful, and I expect you pass this onto Willowpaw.’

Willowpaw stretches up to touch noses with the grey tom. He grins at her.

‘You’ll do great.’

– 

‘But when Goldenstar wasn’t much older than you, he got separated from his mother and siblings. Seeing as he couldn’t track them down, he wandered around lost for a while.’ 

Moxie tugs them all closer with her tail, and Willowkit watches Rowankit roll over and over until she’s pressed against her mother’s side. 

‘He finally ended up in the mountains. And there, he met Scorchstar.’ 

–

Willowpaw follows Henryclaw up the summit of the mountain, trying her best not to pant. She doesn’t want him to think her weak.

But he stops with a playful huff. 

‘Willowpaw, what can you see?’

‘… A forest.’

‘In the forest?’

‘… Leaves?’

He purrs. ‘What else?’

‘Twigs. Trees. Rocks?’ She looks sidelong at him, trying to work out what the right answer is.

Henryclaw curls his tail, delighted. ‘Yes. What can you smell?’

Willowpaw takes a massive sniff of the cold mountain air. 

‘Moss. I think that’s mouse? Birds – Oh! I can smell Mama!’

Henryclaw pokes her with his tail. ‘How long ago do you think she was here?’

‘A while ago… because her scent is stale?’

‘Good. Could you follow her track? I’ll be behind you the whole time. Or… we could see who can find her first.’

Willowpaw’s tail shoots up. ‘Yes! Loser has to clean out the elder’s den!’

He laughs from his chest. ‘Go on then. I’ll give you a headstart.’

–

‘This could have been the end of Goldenstar, if he weren’t so lucky as to run into Scorchstar just as the sun was setting. A badger could have snapped’ and she lunges at Mistykit, rolling her over –’at him, or maybe a fox might have’ Moxie grabs Willowkit by the scruff, and drags her along the ground as she giggles, ‘dragged him away, or perhaps a dog might have grabbed him and taken him home to its twoleg,’ Moxie wraps Rowankit in her tail, ‘but they didn’t. Scorchstar found him instead.’ 

Sleepykit droops slightly. 

‘She brought him home to FallenClan, and she asked him if he’d like to stay. Goldenstar thought of the badgers and the foxes and the dogs, and said yes.’

–

Willowpaw flattens herself to the ground, trying desperately to keep her tail still. The blackbird caws and hops forward a few steps. 

Willowpaw takes a careful step towards it, checking to ensure that she wouldn’t land on any twigs, and tries to surrepitiously glance around for Henryclaw.

She rolls a stone beneath her paw. Carefully, just like Windripple in The Witch Hare, she tosses a pawful of stones to the other side of the clearing, where they rustle the grass as they fall. The bird turns its head, ruffling its wings for flight. 

Willowpaw stalks closer, closer. As the bird stretches out its wings, she pounces, cracking its neck with a satisfying crunch.

‘Was that good enough for you?’ Willowpaw calls out, tail whisking into the air.

Henryclaw drops from a nearby tree, his tail high.

‘Yes.’ As they turn to go, he twitches his ear. ‘Was that manoeuvre from The Witch Hare?’

‘…Maybe so.’ 

– 

‘There were only three in FallenClan then. Scorchstar, her mate Nettlestem, Wildfang, and Oaktuft. But they welcomed little Goldenstar as if he were their own kitten. And not even a moon later, Sunwish joined the Clan. ’

‘So is that it? Is that the end of the story?’ Sleepykit says, amber eyes wide. 

‘He’s not even leader yet, dummy!’ Willowkit yelps. He growls, stubby tail lashing. Moxie purrs soothingly. 

‘Willowkit, that isn’t very nice. If you can’t listen quietly you can’t listen at all. Sleepykit, it’s not the end of the story. Let me finish.’ They lie begrudgingly against Moxie’s side, glaring at each other, as she continues.

‘Maybe Scorchstar saw something leader-like in little Goldenstar, for she mentored him herself. He was a good, willing pupil, and he took everything she said to heart. He learned fast, and before long he was a warrior.’

–

‘I, Goldenstar, leader of FallenClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.’ 

‘Henryclaw, has Willowpaw learned the skills of a warrior? Does she understand the importance of the warrior code?’

‘She does.’ Henryclaw’s eyes are welling with pride and Willowpaw has to turn her gaze away.

‘Willowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?’

Willowpaw feels her heart rise in her chest. ‘I do.’

‘Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Willowpaw, from this day onwards, you will be known as Willowsplash. StarClan honors your playful nature and your skill in telling stories, and we welcome you as a full warrior of FallenClan.’

He jumps from the rock and rests his muzzle on her head. She licked his shoulder, listening to her Clan call her name. She raises her head and joins in. StarClan, she wishes Moxie were here.

‘Sleepycloud! Mistyfish! Rowanleaf! Willowsplash!’

–

‘When Goldenstar was just a few months into his apprenticeship, another cat, just 5 moons older than him, joined the Clan. Her name was Morningpaw.’

–

Sleepycloud blinks earnestly at them all. ‘Isn’t Ivybounce the prettiest cat you’ve ever seen?’

‘Not really.’ Mistyfish offers. Sleepycloud rolls his eyes.

‘Just because you’ve got no taste–’

‘Go talk to her!’ Willowsplash offers. ‘I’ll tell your future kits this story.’

‘Fuck off,’ Sleepycloud says, but he’s already rising to his paws and trailing up to the ginger and white molly.

Ten moons later, and Ivybounce is expecting their kits. 

Willowsplash loves being right.

–

‘Even though Goldenstar loved Morningbloom, he couldn’t muster the strength to tell her, especially after she broke her back.’

‘Why not?’ Rowankit volunteers.

‘He was scared that if he told her, she’d die before they could do anything about it.’

–

Mistyfish coughs wetly. Silverbelly hovers between them, before stepping out of the way with her head low.

‘Don’t get too close. Greencough is very contagious.’

Bluefern clenches her jaw. Willowsplash rests her head on her mother’s shoulder, trying not to sob.

She is doomed to lose all of them.

Mistyfish blinks up at them.

‘Mama,’ she whispers, her voice scratchy. ‘Do you remember the stories you used to tell me in the nursery?’

‘I… Of course, Misty. Do you want me to tell you one?’

Mistyfish nods. She tucks her paws under herself, rests her head on the end of the nest. She blinks up at Bluefern unevenly.

‘Which one?’

‘The Witch Hare,’ Mistyfish whispers, and the five cats huddled silently in the medicine den listen to the tears in Bluefern’s voice and try not to think about how Silverbelly said this was the end.

–

‘Did Morningbloom die?’ Mistykit says, her voice trembling. ‘Is that why she isn’t in the Clan anymore?’

Moxie nuzzles Mistykit.

‘She didn’t die then. She healed perfectly, and Goldenstar was so relieved that he confessed to her immediately.’ She tugs the kits a little closer. ‘She reciprocated, and they became mates.’

–

‘Hi.’ 

Willowsplash opens one eye, rolling over on the rock. The sun had been especially nice thus far, and now a cat was blocking her light. He was angular and tall, and he stood like he knew what to do with all his limbs, like he was confident in the space he took up. His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Bub. Can I join your Clan?’

‘You’d have to ask our leader, Golden– His name is Maplestar.’ He sits beside her, curls his tail around his paws. Willowsplash looked at him out of the corner of her eye. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Waiting for you. You don’t seem quite ready to leave yet.’

‘Hm.’ She flicked her tail. ‘You said your name was Bub?’

‘Indeed.’ He curled his tail against his side. Willowsplash couldn’t help a smile.

‘What do you do, Bub?’

‘All sorts. I used to run with a couple of other loners, but I got bored of that. I want some more excitement in my life. More stories to tell.’

Willowsplash hoists herself to her paws, feeling more alive than she had for days.

‘You tell stories? Good ones, right?’

‘I’d like to think so,’ he purrs. 

They talk until the moon rises and the sky turns black. Willowsplash wonders if her littermates are watching. She decides she doesn’t care.

–

‘Morningbloom and Goldenstar had kits not long after Goldenstar’s confession. They were very excited. Goldenstar thought it would be a big litter, while Morningbloom thought it would be a small litter. In the end, they were both right. They had three kits.’

‘Like Mama!’ Sleepykit mews. 

‘But Morningbloom didn’t survive her kitting. Goldenstar named them. Applebranch, Maplethorn, and Honeygleam.’ 

All four kittens look up at her with big, horrified eyes. 

Moxie rumbles a purr, curls around them. Willowkit lets herself be tumbled and her pelt ruffled as she cuddles against Moxie’s side. ‘It’s alright, lovelies. She’s up there right now, enjoying the vibrant forests and bright lands of StarClan.’

‘Didn’t Goldenstar miss her?’ Willowkit whispers. She can’t imagine if she’d never known Bluefern.

‘Of course he did!’ Moxie cries. ‘But she died long before you were born. He’ll always love her, but he has a life here.’

Willowkit pauses. ‘Was Applebranch a cute kit?’

Moxie purrs. ‘I’d like to think so. I never saw her as a kit. But you know who was the cutest kitten?’

‘Who?’

‘Your mama Newtscar.’

–

Bub trots into camp, tail high. For a moment, Willowsplash is so pleased to see her mate (her mate, over a year later and she can still call him hers) that she doesn’t notice the bundle he’s carrying in his jaws.

‘Willowsplash,’ he purrs. ‘I found a kit.’

‘You – what?’

‘Oh, Willowsplash, look at him. This is our only chance to be parents, Willow. And I’ve already named him…’ 

She looks at him. Bub is right, this is their only real chance to be parents. The kitten is small. He is fluffy and golden and he has piercing yellow and blue eyes. He opens his mouth to mew and she realises he is loud.

‘Alright.’ She steps closer to Bub and twines her tail with his. 

‘Thank you!’ He purrs. ‘Look, Sunnykit! This is your mama!’

The kitten topples over backwards trying to look at them.

Luckily for Willowsplash, two moons later she can bring back Sunnykit’s sister and repeat the whole rigmarole. 

Petalkit and Sunnykit are beside themselves at being reunited, and Willowsplash can settle into Bub and watch their kits play.

One day they will be Petalslip and Sunnytuft, and she will love them with all the ferocity and strength of Bluefern telling nursery stories to her dying kit.

–

‘After Scorchstar was killed by dogs, Goldenstar led the Clan into a new age of prosperity.’ Moxie says. ‘He’s much kinder to outsiders than she was. That’s how we came to be so big.’

‘Cool,’ Sleepykit breathes. Then he turns to Rowankit. ‘Let’s go play Goldenstar!’

She chases him out of the nursery. Mistykit dithers for a moment, and then runs after them, yowling “wait for me!”

Moxie watches them with a purr. 

‘Not following them out, Willowkit?’

‘No… Moxie, can I tell you a story?’

‘You can tell me anything. What’s your story about?’

‘The Witch Hare. Henryclaw taught it to me the other day.’ 

Moxie tucks her paws under herself, and rests her head on the edge of her nest. ‘Go on, then.’

–

So many cats have left Willowsplash now.

Her mothers, her brother – StarClan, so many brothers, even Moxie is gone now.

Her younger relatives, the children of so many dead siblings, don’t quite look her in the eye. 

But Bub is here

Sunnytuft and Petalslip are growing up, and her litter-brother’s kits are adults with their own set of problems.

Generations stretch out before her. The deafness was a mercy, really. Bub knows she can’t stand the sound of dogs barking, or cats calling too loudly. When she started to lose her hearing they started to develop a language of ears and whiskers and tails.

Maybe she can’t tell them stories of Goldenstar and Maplestar and Cherrystar with her voice as well anymore. 

But she’ll tell them everything with her paws.

(beetle note: AUHGHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD.... had me rolling on the floor weeping and crying i love it so much <333 the little bits of character added to everyone, the background relationships, the exploration of willowsplash,,, such an underrated character, you did her fantastically)

[hlficlibrary]

Hii,

My favourite fics to read are famous/ not famous or famous/ famous. And I feel like I’ve read them all. Do you maybe know of any that are written in the last couple of months or you’re favourites.

Thank you:)

Hi, anon! You're very welcome! Here are some recent ones that fit what you're looking for...

Recent Famous/Famous Fics

When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

“Louis, what do you have to say about how last week ended?” the reporter asks. There’s a moment of silence. Harry is looking at the reporter, but eventually gives in and looks down the table at Louis. He’s looking straight ahead, as if Harry isn’t even in the room. “If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.” Harry leans forwards, placing his arms on the table and leaning onto them to get as close to his microphone as he can while looking at Louis. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Louis turns to him, his icy blue eyes meeting Harry's. “Driving is your fuckin’ job, act like it.”

In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

aka the one where Louis and Harry are childhood friends to enemies to lovers over the course of 15 ish years.

The Naked Truth by @larrysmomfics

The producers of Naked Attraction decide to do a 'Second Chances' edition of the show where past contestants who didn't find love on the show the first time can re-apply in hopes that the second time's a charm. Superfan of the show and season three contestant, Harry Styles, is nervous when he first finds out that Niall, Harry's roommate and production assistant on the show, has signed him up to be one of the singletons vying for a date with none other than Louis Tomlinson, from season one, who also happens to be the man Harry has pined for, drooled over, and borderline stalked since he first discovered the show. Will Louis pick Harry? Will Harry share the naked truth about his superfan and supercrush status with Louis? Will Niall Horan ever stop meddling? Find out if going au naturel can lead to a second chance at love in The Naked Truth!

OR The Naked Attraction Larry AU

A Match Into Water by @starryhazelou

“So, who’s the guy?”

Louis startled at the question, immediately locking his phone and dropping it onto the beanbag cushion below him. This was a topic he desperately wanted to avoid with his friends, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. That didn’t mean he would try to avoid it though.

“What guy?” He rushed out, looking at Liza with a dumbfounded expression, trying his best to avoid Niall and Jeremy clearly sharing a knowing look.

“You’ve been on your phone nonstop, you’re never on your phone while working. Not to mention, you’re smiling at your phone like a nutter,” Niall pipes up, grinning at him facetiously.

Somewhere between being captivated by his flourishing career, and finding the man of his dreams, Louis had forgotten about all of the warnings given to him concerning the ugly side of fame. The warnings would prove to be useful much sooner than he would have liked.

Recent Famous/Not Famous Fics

That’s the way love goes by bella28

“Why would someone attend a concert when they have a soulmate goose?” Harry questioned his sister bewildered. “Everyone knows that they can get very aggressive. Why did security even let this person enter the venue, they must know what a risk this is!”

His sister didn’t seem to know the answer. They were both aware that soulmate geese were sent to people that didn’t get their shit together with their soulmate. Hopeless cases in Harry’s opinion. Who didn’t recognise their soulmate when they standing were right in front of them?

OR: In a world, where soulmate geese are sent to the people who can't figure out who their soulmate is, Harry finds himself stuck with a goose when he is attending a concert of his favourite artist Louis Tomlinson.

I Might Say Yes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

“You and Zayn get up to any mischief then?” Louis’ smirk suggests that he knows how Harry and Zayn’s brunches usually turn out, but Harry would bet on everything he has that Louis would never be able to guess it this time.

It’s not very nice of him, but Harry can’t help but wait until Louis has taken another sip of tea before he answers.

“I bought a wedding dress.”

Just as predicted Louis does a spit take worthy of the cinema, but Harry is impressed with how quickly he’s able to pull himself back together.

Louis takes a moment to set his cup down and when he speaks again his tone is even, but with the mirth of a challenge hidden underneath. “I wasn’t aware that you were engaged?”

Harry just shrugs easily. “Reckon I’m not.” He pauses to flash a coy smile. “Someone ought to put a ring on it.”

(Or the one where Harry buys a wedding dress on a whim. And his very doting boyfriend, Louis, is more than happy to indulge him).

Rewriting the Melody by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

[strawhbrrries]

Starin' Problem.

pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.

warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1.3k words

recommended listening: granite by sleep token

authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy &lt;333

“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”

“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”  

He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.

“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around. 

“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything. 

“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.

He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night. 

You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment. 

“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back. 

“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”

He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly. 

“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.

“Fuck, Joel-” 

He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt. 

“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.” 

“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?” 

You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him. 

He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”

“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.

The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach. 

“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”

“Daddy-”

“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face. 

His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns. 

“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”

“Daddy, daddy please.” 

“Good girl.” 

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure. 

“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”

You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up. 

Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.

“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”

[slttygeto]

SLOWLY LOVING YOU — SUGURU GETO.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: Before Yaga introduces you to the third years, Suguru is a little unsure of you joining them. And then he meets you, and suddenly his heart doesn’t know how to slow down.

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, reader gets a few cuts and faints, swearing and a lot of fluff.

જ⁀➴ word count: 4,2k

જ⁀➴ note: thank you to the sweet @duhsies for commissioning me! I had so much fun writing it<3!!

“Yaga says there’s a newcomer,” Satoru had a habit of speaking with a mouthful, which Suguru really hated. A hand is smacking the back of the white haired’s head who hisses at the contact before glaring at his best friend.

“Hey!” He protests, his sunglasses resting at the tip of his nose.

“Swallow your food.” Suguru presses, taking a sip from his drink. He had heard long ago from Yaga about this newcomer, and wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. It’s not that he wasn’t good with new people (he wasn’t), but he felt like it was a little odd to transfer someone and have them be with him, Shoko and Gojo right away. They had to have a good cursed technique, a great control of their cursed energy, otherwise they’d just get in the way of everything and—ouf, this was too negative.

Who was he to judge? Sure, a part of him was skeptical, but he was trying to awaken the other side that usually reassures him that everything will turn out just fine.

“I wonder if it’s guy or a girl,” Satoru speaks again, and this time (surprisingly) he swallows his food before opening his mouth. Suguru shrugs at his best friend, grabbing a fry from his tray of food.

“It won’t really change much, I just hope they’re good at what they do,”

“Oh Suguruuu,” Gojo whines at his friend’s negativity, pushing him but not too hard. “Don’t be such a kill joy, I’m pretty sure that they’re good. Otherwise, Yaga wouldn’t look so excited.”

“Why are you the one telling me to be nice?” The black haired male raises an eyebrow, carefully picking out a fry that didn’t have ketchup on it.

“You rubbed off on me,” Satoru wiggles his eyebrows to which Suguru rolls his eyes at.

“Don’t.” Suguru presses, but it’s too late to stop his friend’s funny joke.

“That’s a little fruity—“

“Finish your food.”

When they head back to the school grounds after having lunch, they’re pleasantly surprised when they find Yaga, Shoko and an unknown girl standing near one of the school buildings. From the looks of it, you weren’t that nervous. Sure, you were checking out your surroundings as the school was new, but nothing about your demeanor suggested that you were anxious. Not even a little.

Suguru raises his eyebrows at this, and although he tries not to stare too hard at you, Gojo is quick to notice it and nudges him with an elbow.

“Hey, think that’s the new girl?”

“I mean, it looks like it,” Suguru mumbles a response and stops walking when Yaga starts to approach them.

“You finally decided to show up,” Oh, an ass-whooping is on the way.

“The mission took us way too long,” it’s Satoru who tries his luck as his usual, and the grin on his face draws a similar one on Suguru’s lips.

“Yeah, but we managed to get it done with. That’s all what matters,” if it wasn’t for Satoru’s love to piss off their teacher, Suguru is sure that he wouldn’t bother. But it’s fun, and it gives the students something to laugh about.

You watch the scene unfold before you and you raise your eyebrows at how easy going the pair standing in front of you was. Did they not fear Yaga? You had been introduced to the man a couple of weeks ago before you were transferred to the school, and despite the comforting vibe the man had, you still felt like you owed him some sort of respect.

Something the two guys bickering with their teacher seemed to lack. Or maybe it was just an act.

Yaga gives the two guys a comical smack to the back of their heads and you hear Shoko snicker next to you. You fight back a smile of your own, until you feel Shoko pat your back, almost in reassurance.

“You can laugh, they won’t be offended.” You relax at this, and before you could even say anything in response, Yaga is clearing his throat to get your attention.

“You can introduce yourself,” oh, he’s talking to me. You’re suddenly aware of the three pairs of eyes fixated on you, and you fidget nervously.

“Hello, my name is (name) and I’m—“

“That’s boring!” The white haired male cuts you off, and your eye twitches. Well, that’s offensive. Before you could even glare at him, he’s approaching you while taking off his sunglasses and your heart stills at the sight. Those eyes felt like they were staring into your soul.

“Show us your technique, that’s a much more interesting way to introduce yourself,” your body relaxes at this, and you can see Yaga signaling you to go along with what your classmate was saying.

“Oh, okay then,”

Suguru’s eyes are cat-like as they fixate on you. You get in position to show off your technique and suddenly, everything goes quiet. He could feel the energy shift when you stepped away from them, and so he was anticipating a big show. Perhaps, you were a show-off like Gojo.

Suddenly, the air feels a little different—why is it wet? He touches his skin to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and before he could even process things, fog had engulfed him entirely. This was new.

You were nowhere to be seen, maybe that was your technique—a little weak, Suguru thought. But it felt like you read his mind because right in front of him was standing a carbon copy of himself. A clone.

“What the—“ The clone stands still as Suguru gets into a fighting position, ready to unleash a weak curse at it, but the clone is quick to do the same and releases a different curse—the clone knew about his technique?

Before things could escalate further, he heard a snap of fingers from behind him and his eyes widen when the fog and the clone both disappear at once. You were standing right behind him. Being so focused on the fact that what was standing in front of Suguru was a literal doppelganger, he failed to notice you sneak up behind him. He assumed that you snapping your fingers was to deactivate your technique, but it was also a realization that you made him so unaware of his surroundings—and that was the beauty of your technique.

Everyone looks amused by Suguru’s confused expression. He was staring you right in the eye, and your confidence and the relaxed expression painting your face would normally sned shivers down anyone’s spine. It was awkwardly silent for a few moments before Gojo decides to break the silence.

“That was rather impressive, wasn’t it?” Shoko agrees with her classmate, clapping almost ceremoniously. Yaga steps away from the two to approach you and Suguru who was still staring at you, this time with less resentfulness. Sure, he hated having someone sneak up behind him. And the fact that you had chosen him out of the three felt a little strange, but he tried not to overthink it.

Maybe it’s because I looked like a bitch.

He immediately brushes off the thought when you flash him an unapologetic smile, the confidence you gave off a few moments ago replaced with something he couldn’t quite decipher—were you getting shy?

His lips part almost in shock at the way your cheeks are slightly pink, and you take two steps back and away from him before apologizing out loud.

“Sorry, I just thought you looked a little bored.”

Oh, not anymore.

“That to you, is a Grade 1 sorcerer.” Yaga announces very proudly. Usually, Grade S sorcerers would be the one to be introduced like this—with so much pleasure and honor. But Yaga didn’t care about that. He saw potential in you and embraced it like you were his top student.

Geto couldn’t shake off the giddy feeling in his chest. He watched as Satoru came over to your side and ruffles your hair, promising that you were going to have a good time at school because he was there. And you played along, the playful expression you wore on your face not matching the blush on your cheeks—you were just easily flustered having this much attention on you.

“What do you say, Suguru?” He snaps out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, and he finds his best friend staring at him with those eyes. He caught him looking at you, didn’t he?

“Sorry, I zoned out.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he wasn’t going to say that you seemed so interesting that he found himself so lost in his thoughts. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like how you seemed so unaware of the fact that you were breaking down his walls one by one, and all of this happening in less than an hour of meeting you? Unbelievable.

“I said, we are all gonna get along so well, right?” Glancing at you, he notices how you seem to shift your attention back to him the moment his name is mentioned. You’re almost eager to find out what he has to say next, sparkly eyes and a tight lipped smile making you look so fucking adorable—oh fuck, no.

“Yeah, we will.”

He was officially and totally fucked.

--

It’s been a few months since you officially transferred to Jujutsu high, and things were going great. You felt like you fit in so perfectly, you were a bit nervous that you would be a burden since the trio seemed to have a dynamic of their own, being the one to ruin the dynamic—or worse, feel left out would just be the highlight of your school year. But they were so nice. Each in their own way.

While Gojo felt like a troublesome sibling with his many pranks and jokes, Shoko truly felt like a close friend. You could crack jokes with her, share food and even watch movies during the weekend. The friendship you shared with both seemed very genuine and you were so grateful for that.

And then there was Geto.

Suguru Geto, tall and handsome, with long dark luscious hair and cat-like eyes. A smile that seemed precious since it appeared way less than you would want. A voice that felt like he was purring in your ear and a personality that had your heart stuttering in your chest.

He had caught your eye the moment you saw him walk on the school grounds. You tried not to make your tiny crush on the man obvious right away, but it felt like you blew your cover when you chose him as your target when asked to show off your technique.

Things weren’t exactly bad between you and the tall male, but they weren’t that good either. There an awkwardness that always lingered when you were both left alone, your heart would beat so fast and so incessantly when you felt his eyes on you before he places a piece of his chocolate on your desk.

“Was gonna share it with Satoru, but he pissed me off today.” You’re almost shocked that he’s even addressing you when neither Shoko nor Satoru were in the classroom.

“Are you sure? He does like sweets,” you still grab the sweet treat and place it in your mouth, to which he chuckles at.

“Well, you ate it immediately. Seems like you don’t care.”

“Well, he did piss me off too today,” you’re grinning, playing with the wrap of the chocolate. Suguru raises his eyebrows at your remark and continues to tease you.

“Was it another joke about how bad his clone was? I mean he’s not entirely wrong—“

“Stooop,” you groan out, resting your head on your desk in defeat. You were too embarrassed about the recent incident, and no one seemed to want to let go of it.

Rather than being embarrassed that his clone was that ugly, Gojo’s sudden and quick realization that your clones had an immediate link to your photographic memory lit up a bulb at the top of his head. And so the teasing began.

How come Suguru’s was so accurate on day one!

Do you have something to share with the class?

It was horrible, and you remember how Yaga had to smack the white haired male in the back of his head to get him to stop. He caught onto your little crush on Suguru faster than you had anticipated, but you were glad that when asked what he was teasing you about, Satoru chose to save you the embarrassment and just say that his clone was so ugly, you needed more practice.

“I just need more practice,” you say, a little muffled from having your face in your arm. Suguru stares at you for a few moments from his seat, then he suddenly gets up and walks towards you. He crouches down in front of your desk and you quickly raise your head in question.

“Hm?”

“You don’t hate me, right?” He could’ve asked that question from his desk, he knows that. But it would’ve seemed a little cowardly cause he knows he would avoid looking you in the eyes. But eye contact was important when communicating things, and right now was one of the few moments where Suguru felt like he was going to pee his pants waiting for an answer.

“Hate you?”

“I’m aware that hate is a big word—it’s a strong feeling too, but I just need to know if you feel that way about me.” Suguru was supposed to feel stupid, maybe a little insane for asking you something like this. But he noticed how things always got quiet when it was just you two alone. It didn’t necessarily mean you hated him, but a part of him wanted to make sure you didn’t resent him for mysterious reasons.

“I don’t hate you,” you pause your words, and Suguru watches as your face slightly reddens as you avoid his eyes. “Uh, just nervous.”

Now, why did I say that? It’s one thing to know that he makes you feel this way, but it’s another when you fully admit it to him and watch as he raises both of his eyebrows, almost in shock.

“Nervous?” At first, he’s scared that the word has a bitter taste to it—but it slowly dissipates when he sees the blush on your face darken because why did he have to say it like that.

It sounded like he was saying it for the first time, carefully tasting each letter and syllable. You felt nervous around Suguru.

“You are kind of intimidating,” the small smile painting your lips eases Suguru’s nerves despite having another word describe him. But he’s heard this one before. In fact, he likes it. He likes the way it makes him feel, the ego boost it gives him when he sees people quiver in his presence.

But he didn’t want to have this kind of effect on you. You didn’t need to fear him or avoid his eyes for him to know that he was a powerful sorcerer—he wanted you to feel safe with him. He wanted to rid you of any problem weighing you down, have that smile on your lips for a long time. Whatever Suguru felt for you, he was coming to terms with it and accepting it.

Slowly that is.

“If I’m intimidating, then is Yaga like a monster to you?” Suguru teases you back, and he stands up from his crouching position. He stares down at you with a grin, his sharp eyes making eye contact with your own bright ones. A contrast like this looked so endearing.

“Yes.” You don’t hesitate as you reply, and Geto immediately bursts into laughter at this.

“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” Wow, I made him laugh.

“But he is scary! I mean, he’s very nice… but I don’t think I’d wanna piss him off like Gojo does,” you mumble the last part, but Suguru hears you loud and clear.

“Satoru pisses off everyone, so you’re safe.”

Having a conversation like this with Geto felt nice. It wasn’t that often that you two chatted or even had the time to sit down and give each other normal classmate updates. So to be able to talk to him like this, make him laugh until his stomach hurts before walking to your dorms felt new. But you weren’t complaining.  

--

Over the last few months, you’ve gone on a couple of missions with both Suguru and Satoru. They were all successful, and you always got done with them in half of the time.

But today was different. You were going on a mission with Suguru.

Yaga mentioned how you both seemed to work really well together, and while Suguru might’ve been stronger than you, you had so much potential that couldn’t get wasted. Suguru seemed like the perfect fit for a partner and a sort of mentor.

The mission was going to take place in another city, which is why you find yourself on the train with the tall male who was trying to get some sleep.

Sitting across from each other, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the guy. He looked too good from this angle, you could feel your body tingling in embarrassment.

The guy’s just trying to sleep

Over the last few months, no matter how hard you tried to brush your feelings for Suguru, they resurfaced not only a day later when he did something that would make your heart stutter in your chest. You remember him making you food when you were sick, giving you his scarf when you got too cold, suggesting to style your hair for you—how could you not fall for him?

But you were terrified of rejection. You were scared that those feelings could potentially ruin the friendship between you two, and God knows how horrible that would make you feel.

“We’re there,” you were so lost in your thought, that you didn’t feel the train stop. Only Suguru’s hand on your shoulder was able to snap you out of it.

“Oh sorry,” you stand up and make your way out of the train with Suguru following close behind.

“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asks from behind you, and you slow down your pace to match his footsteps before shaking your head.

“Not really, I wasn’t that tired.”

“Oh but you will be after the mission, that’s always how it is.” He was referring to the many times you and Gojo would end up falling asleep on each other on the way back home, and he would secretly take pictures of the white haired male drooling on your hair to show it to you when you both wake up.

“Thank god he’s not here to drool on my hair,” you say with a hint of annoyance, but it’s harmless.

“Oh, you never know,” the playfulness to his voice makes you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face gives away that you were anything but annoyed.

You arrive to said location after ten minutes of walking. And at first sight, it seemed like any normal abandoned building; a little creepy, no color painting its exterior and most importantly lifeless. But the smell—god, the gut wrenching smell that came from it made you cringe.

“God, it smells horrible.”

“Then we’re at the right place.” Suguru is the first one to walk in, and you follow close after. You take careful steps, eyes darting around the area to scan it for any clues.

“I have a horrible feeling about this,” you mumble to yourself. You knew you were sent to this place to find the source of its gloominess, but the farther you walked down the hallway, the tighter your stomach got.

“It was an orphanage.” Your heart sinks at the revelation, watching the old toys scattered on the floor, filled with dirt and dust. You could only imagine what happened to the kids.

The room is silent for a few moments before both of you and Suguru stand still. Almost on guard.

“Do you feel it?”

“Yeah, I do.” Whatever took over this place was huge. It didn’t necessarily feel like a strong or dangerous curse, but the way it was staring at you from down the hall had you standing in a fighting position.

Before you could even process the fact that you were dealing with that big curse, it charges at you—and fast.

It’s too fast for its size!

Mist engulfs the creature almost immediately, it would only serve as a distraction for a little bit before it would rage even more and decide to charge at you.

“Go hide, I’ll take care of it.” You watch as Suguru calls in two of his powerful curses, both enough to do the job. But you don’t want that.

You don’t want him to do the job on his own, or worse hide while he does everything. It wasn’t why you became a sorcerer, why you chose to even join the school. And so you stood still, grabbing one of the daggers attached to your thigh. You ignore Suguru’s cries telling you to step away from the huge curse.

“You’re gonna get killed if you don’t move!”

“Shut up!” The mist slowly morphs into something else—something Suguru has never seen you done before. It shapes itself into a beautiful scenery, one where flowers are blooming and the sun is shining and—he was hallucinating.

And so was the curse. The technique might’ve not been the most powerful, but it still managed to blind the curse for a few moments. You fill your sharp dagger with cursed energy before slicing it open in one swift motion. It’s messy and sloppy, and blood covers your clothes and the floor like a paint. You stand still and stare in awe at what you’ve just done.

I killed a huge curse on my own!

What you fail to see is the multiple cuts on your body, and how all color leaves your face as exhaustion washes over you. Shit, you were passing out.

The last thing you remember hearing is Suguru calling your name before everything goes silent.

--

Suguru is a mess. That was the only word that could accurately describe the state of the poor guy as he paced back and forth in front of your dorm room. No matter how much Gojo tried to convince him that you were okay, he refused to budge.

He was mad at you. You were so reckless back there, refused to listen to him when he asked you to move—he was filled with all kinds of emotions.

And so when Yaga finally gives him the green light to visit you, the first thing he does is scold you.

You’re sitting up in your bed with bandages wrapped around your body, and you look so tired. But despite all of that, you still manage to flash him a warm smile when he walks inside your room and closes the door behind him.

“Yaga told me I was passed out for two days, I hope I didn’t worry you—“

“What you did was reckless.” Suguru cuts you off, voice sharp and cold that you flinch. Your eyes stare at your lap, avoiding his because he was right. You were reckless, refused to listen to him and powered up your technique faster than your body could handle.

“I know,” you don’t apologize. A part of you wants to, but you were still going to stand your ground if he tried to guilt trip you about the situation.

“And I was very mad,”

“I know.”

It’s silent for a few moments, and Suguru takes in how despite the tears blurring your vision, you refuse to give in and apologize about anything.

“But that’s only because you scared me to death,” he hears you sniffle, and he sees you blink away the tears before staring at him in shock. Suguru takes a few steps towards you, and for a moment you see the hesitation in his action. He quickly brushes it off as he gently rests his hand on your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.

“You have no idea how terrifying that was.” Your heart starts racing at his words, and his touch left a tingling feeling behind when he pulled away to pat your head.

“I don’t want you to do that again, but I gotta admit,” he ruffles your hair, the scowl on his face morphing into a soft expression.

“That was really cool,” your smile is on your lips almost immediately at his words, and you take your hand and wrap it around his wrist. You pull his hand down and place it again on your face, a bold move that has the both of you slightly blushing.

“You think I’m cool?” your voice sounds sweet when you ask the question, and Suguru thinks he’s never heard you sound like this before but he nods anyway.

“The coolest.”

Neither of you move or say a thing after this, but the prolonged eye contact had the tall male leaning down a bit hesitantly at first, making sure you were okay with it. So when you pull him closer and place your lips on top of his, Suguru is convinced that it was the right thing to do.

The kiss is short and sweet. You pull away after a few seconds and the blush on your cheeks spreads across your entire face when he leans in to give you another kiss. Then another and another.

“Sugu—“

“Shhh, you look cute when you’re flustered.”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[emmyrosee]

Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.

God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.

These things, he can not let go easily.

Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.

Tonight, it would appear to be no different.

It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.

The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.

Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.

Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.

The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.

But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.

“Stop screaming, it’s me.”

Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.

“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.

“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”

“You-! I was-! Why-!”

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”

Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.

“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”

“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”

“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”

He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.

“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.

“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”

“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”

“….”

“Katsuki!”

“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”

“KATSUKI!”

[claypgeons]

cat dad?

pairing: theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

warnings: fluff, cat shifter!reader, happy ending! reader gets high for a moment. tutor!theodore, super rushed ending.

summary: theodore nott adopts a stray hogwarts cat, unaware its actually the sweet hufflepuff he’s developed a small crush on. [2.8k]

notes: reblogs comments and likes are always greatly appreciated <33 pls pls pls send in requests… i’m desperate for something to write

Theodore Nott was at a crossroads. Tonight, his fellow Slytherins were throwing a huge party in honor of the quidditch team making it to the Hogwarts final. Tonight was also the night he was supposed to meet his new tutee.

So, he could either go to this huge party or spend his night tutoring some idiot who can't get their grade up on their own. Obviously, he wanted to pick the party. 

The problem was, McGonagall had personally set up this tutoring session, so he couldn't just blow it off, that would make him seem unreliable. And unlike people assume, Theodore cares about his grades, a lot. And with caring about your grades, came building good relationships with your teachers, Theo would brag that he has built a steady relationship with every single one of his.

So, that only left him with one option. Miss the party and stay up all night tutoring.

“Is he still sulking about not going to the party?” he heard the bored voice of Pansy ring through his ear. Instantly he snapped his head to the side, where Pansy was sending him a judgemental look, which he instantly returned. 

“Leave him alone.” Draco laughed, he felt for his friend. Theo’s grades were important to him, and although Draco did not understand it, he respected it. He had seen his friend go through the inner turmoil, trying to decide what to do. It was honestly very sad to look at.

“Who are you tutoring anyways?” Blaise chimed in, swallowing the last piece of food he had in his mouth, Theodore tried to recall the name McGonagall had given him, and it took him a second before it came to mind. “Y/N.” 

It was like a light switch had flipped in Pansy’s mind. She turned to him wide-eyed, “Like Y/N, Y/N?” 

“I don’t know what that means,” Theo answered blankly. He didn’t know this ‘Y/N’ How was he supposed to assume they were the one Pansy was referring to? 

Pansy rolled her eyes, standing up and muttering a small ‘idiot’ before walking away. Theo watched her walk towards the Hufflepuff table before he turned to Draco, “Where is she going?” 

Shrugging Draco muttered, “How am I supposed to know?”

All three boys who were currently occupying a side of the Slytherin table, watched curiously as Pansy sat down next to a girl with her head down. They saw as Pansy patted the girl on the shoulder, getting her attention.

-

You rubbed your eyes, trying to get adjusted to the bright white light, muttering a small ‘gosh’ you turned your head to where you felt the disturbing taps come from. It took you a moment, but after your eyes had focused, you broke out into a big smile, “Pansy!” you greeted happily. 

The girl sat at your side, and smiled, “Hey, Y/N.” Pansy and you had been acquaintances since your third year. You two had been partnered for a small group project and had bonded quite well. 

“Are you starting a new tutor tonight?” Pansy had gotten quite to the point. You nodded, ever since your second year, you had, had more than twelve tutors, you were now in your sixth year. You had great trouble learning; so you and McGonagall had set up a system where you were getting new tutors every couple of months. To simulate brain activity and whatnot. 

“Is it him?” Pansy turned to the Slytherin table and pointed to someone. You turned slowly, making direct eye contact with a pale-faced dark-haired boy. You stared at him with wide-set eyes, trying to recall how McGonagall had described him. Not realizing that your stare was incredibly off-putting. 

Theodore stared back with blank eyes, slowly looking side to side, only to give you a confused look when he realized you were indeed staring at him, piercing holes through his head. You continued to stare with wide eyes until it clicked. Happily, you turned back to Pansy. “I think it’s him!”

Pansy grinned, “Is it okay if he misses tutoring today? He wants to go to the party.” 

‘This is great’ You thought. You had been wanting to go to the party, but you didn’t know how to excuse your way out of tutoring. You had even stayed up late trying to come up with something- hence you slept during breakfast. 

“That’s perfectly fine!” 

-

Later that night, Theodore Nott was happily watching his friends get drunk off their asses; Draco was loudly confessing his love for Pansy, while she recorded him laughing, while Blaise and Luna were shyly talking in a corner.  Just as he was turning to sit on the green couch, he had caught sight of..you? 

He thought for a second about how strange it was to never know a person existed, but the one time you notice them, you start to see them everywhere. And before he knew it, he was making his way over to you. 

He walked just a couple of steps, and was able to hear the last couple of words in your sentence, “And I'm not saying I believe in the earth being flat you know? But she was making some great points.” you nodded to yourself, the boy next to you, who was very clearly only trying to get your number, looked at you as if you were crazy, before walking away with a defeated sigh.  

You didn’t even seem to notice the boy walking away, instead, you turned to your right, muttering to yourself, “I’m hungry.”  that was until you crashed into someone. 

Looking up, you saw your new tutor, you greeted him with a smile, “Oh, hello!” 

Theodore froze. He didn’t know why he had walked up to you. His palms felt sweaty, his heart was beating incredibly fast, and the music around him seemed to get louder and louder, what were you doing to him? He swallowed thickly, trying to force a greeting out of his mouth. 

“Say, do you think the earth is flat?” you looked up at him with squinted-red eyes. “Because I don’t, but..” 

You continued, but for some reason, the only thing Theodore could focus on was your red foggy eyes, with a quirk on his lips, he blurted out, “Are you high?” instantly you froze, until you burst out into incredibly fake laughter. 

“What?” you ‘laughed’, Theo watched you with a tiny smile, watching you try to explain yourself, “I-“ you gasped “I would never.” 

The truth was, you were high. You had been since you arrived at the party forty minutes prior. But you could admit that to your tutor. He would think you’re a drug addict. Suddenly, you got serious, staring up at him with wide eyes, “No, no. I would never.” you shook your head. “Never,” you added as a precaution. 

Theodore nodded, humming slightly with his lips tightly together, and just like that you broke; “Okay maybe I am!” you leaned closer to whisper, “It’s only so I can sleep better you know?” 

“Okay..” Theo laughed slightly, slowly nodding his head. Trying to keep the conversation going, he added “Are you hungry?” 

Letting out a big exhale, you nodded “Oh, yes I am!” nodded, you quickly added, “I should go to the kitchens.” you stared at him with blank eyes, and he stared back, it was awkward for a good three minutes, before you shook your head, “Would you like to join me?“

-

“You’ve had twelve tutors?” Theodore gaped in shock, you nodded mournfully, slipping the ice cream spoon into your mouth. “I know, I know.” you sighed, used to getting this reaction. 

Theo laughed, swallowing down his ice cream, “So you’re just going to replace me after some time.” you and Theo had been in the kitchen for who knows how long, you were on your third pint of ice cream, while he was on his second. Reaching over, you placed your hand on top of his incredibly cold one. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” you have him a fake sympathy look. 

Snatching his hand back, Theo shook his head, “I can’t believe this.” you both laughed, eating the last bite of your ice cream, before dumping the pint with success. Theo looked down at his watch, 3:21 a.m. it read; his eyes widened, he knew for a fact you guys had left the party at 1:13 am, you had been talking for more than two hours? 

As if you read his mind, you yawned, the two hours of chatting finally catching up to you. “I think it’s time for me to fall into a coma.” you sighed. You know we’re feeling the after-effects of drugs, the headache, the wanting to hurl, and the sleepiness. 

Theodore nodded. standing up and throwing away his empty pint. He was going to offer to take you to your dorm. But that felt like too much, too soon. 

So he settled for walking you out of the kitchen. You two said goodbye and set a time for your first official tutoring before you walked away. 

Theodore watched you go with a small smile on his lips and a giddy feeling in his heart, before looking around to make sure nobody saw him smiling at your disappearing figure.

-

The next morning, Theodore stood in front of his mirror, he had tried on three different ties, and still couldn’t find the perfect one. The boys behind him were all groaning from their hangover, but this was much more important. He needs to look his best when he tutors you. 

With a shake of the head, he decided to go with the same one he had worn last night. After you two had gone your separate ways, Theo had spent twenty minutes researching the odd symptoms you caused. After coming to terms that he had a tiny ‘crush’ on you. He spent the next thirty minutes researching ‘how to get a pretty girl to like you.’

They all said the same thing; be kind, and respectful, and make her laugh. Theo had never tried those things before. Normally girls would just come up to him and ask him to have sex. That was enough for him. But he didn’t think it would be enough for you. So this was all new territory for him. 

Walking out of the boy’s dormitories, Theodore wished them good luck on their headaches before making his way to the library. On Tuesdays and Fridays, Theodore sat in the great hall to eat breakfast for the others, while the rest of the days, he spent his morning in the library, studying. And since yesterday was Tuesday, today he was to spend his morning in the library. 

He sat at his usual table and immediately got to work on his potions essay. He thought back to you and wondered if you had even started your essay, ‘Stop doing that’ he scolded himself mentally. Ever since meeting you last night, every little thing he does he traces back to you. If he was brushing his teeth ‘I wonder if Y/N is brushing her teeth right now.’ If he was waking up ‘I wonder if she’s still asleep.’ And now. 

“Hello Theodore.” the librarian greeted as she walked by, she had her nose in a book and swiftly walked away before Theodore could manage out a greeting. Turning back to his books, Theodore was surprised to see a small brown cat trying to get its claws into his granola bar. “Hey, shoo!” he whispered shouted at the cat, looking around the library hoping to see the cat’s owner around. Only to see a disgusting couple snogging in the dark corner.

He turned back to the cat, who looked over to the snogging couple, then back to him with what Theodore could only describe as disgust. “Disgusting right?” he scoffed, watching in amazement as the cat drove straight to his lap with a purr. “Oh.” he whispered, trying to push down the ‘aw’ that was begging to escape. 

“Where are your owners, hm?” he whispered, tickling under the cat’s chin, smiling when it reached up and pushed his hand towards its belly. All Hogwarts pets were required to wear a collar that specifies the owner’s name, age, and house. This cat had none of the above. So in Theoodres eyes, it was up for grabs. And although Theodore was never a pet guy, there was just something about this cat.

And so, Theodore quickly packed up all his items before quickly walking out of the library, with the tiny cat under his sweater. He didn't want to run into anyone who recognized the his cat.

- 

“Do you want to start on the potions essay?” Theodore whispered over to you. It was now half an hour after classes ended, and you and Theodore were working one to one.

You had arrived at the library flustered and sweating. You were sure Theodore had noticed, but you were thankful he didn't pry. All morning and afternoon you were considering begging Mcgonagall for a new tutor, bearing in mind Theodore had adopted you as his cat. 

Now, Theodore didn't know you were his now-adopted cat, but it still felt wrong acting like you weren’t the cat he’d become cuddled up with. But you couldn’t just tell him you were a cat-shifter. The only other people in Hogwarts that were aware of this fact, were McGonagall and Dumbledore. It was a secret nobody was supposed to know. You decided that it was fine to continue with your friendship, admittedly you also came to that conclusion because you didn’t want to stop talking to Theodore. 

“I already finished it.” you coughed, handing it over to Theodore, “Could you go over it?” you asked. 

Theodore smiled, “That’s what I’m here for.” 

Twenty minutes later, you and Theodore were sitting in silence he was working on some of his work while you worked on yours. “I got a cat you know?” Theodore whispered to you, placing down his quill. 

You choked on your spit, of course, you knew. You were the cat. “Oh.” you managed out, avoiding the most eye contact you could. If Theodore noticed your change in tone, he didn't comment, “Yeah.” he smiled, “I’m not really the biggest cat person, but she’s just so cute.” he gushed. You felt even dirtier, hearing him gush over a cat, not knowing it was actually you, made you feel sick. 

“Oh.” you paused. Hoping the conversation would end there. Glancing to you out of the corner of his eye Theodore assumed you were too focused on your work, so he dropped it. 

-

Three months later, Theodore sat at the corner of his bed, looking over at his cat, muffins. “Tomorrow the day,” he whispered. The curtains along his bed were shut, but he didn’t want anyone to hear him talk to his cat. 

Muffins tended to disappear for days at a time. And the first time she did, he was scared shitless, but he’s learned to become accustomed to it. 

Muffins tilted his head, confused. “I’m asking her on a date,” Theodore confessed. Muffin's eyes widened as if in horror, and a small whine came from her mouth. Theodore frowned, “I swear, you’ll like her muffins.” Theodore hasn’t had the chance to introduce you to muffins, because for some reason, whenever one of you is with him, the other is nowhere to be found. 

-

The next day, you were nowhere to be found, Theodore had been expecting to see you during potions but it seems like you had skipped, not like you. 

That was until, dinner. 

You seemly eat your food faster than you ever have before. And quickly got up from your seat and walked out of the great hall doors. Then you ran into someone, and you knew by the smell who this someone was, Theodore. 

“Shit,” you muttered looking up at a red-faced Theodore, he didn’t acknowledge your absents from his day, instead he got straight to what you were most terrified of “Do you want to go on a date with me?” 

You stared up at him for what felt like an eternity, before you opened your mouth and spoke something Theodore could never imagine, “I’m your cat.” 

Theodore took a step back, and you stared at him, “What.” he looked at you with a blank face. 

Then came the rambling “I’m so sorry Theodore, but you had just gotten so attached to Muffins and I could just disappear, you wouldn’t have thought she died.” you took a deep breath. “And I couldn’t tell you I was her, you would hate me! And I didn’t want you to hate me, because you’re so nice, and cute, and-“ 

And, before you knew it, Theodore’s lips were on yours. 

[gamermattsgf]

Pulling on pigtails // beard Matt

Warnings: smut tehee / beard kink (is this even a thing?? lol) / cunnilingus / ‘good girl’ + ‘little girl’ / thigh kink / hair pulling / soft dom x sub fem reader / seated scissors / praise kink / spit kink / cream pie / hair pulling if you squint

Summary: you and Matt didn’t like each other at all when you were younger. In fact, you hated each other. Or so you thought. Y’know that one saying? That if a boy pulls on a girl’s pigtails it means he secretly likes her? Well… in Matt’s case that was certainly true, it just took him a little bit of growing up to realise.

Author’s notes: childhood enemies to lovers oooo, new trope time. This was a spur of the moment idea that literally popped up into my head during one of my classes. Reminder to pretend the reader is on the pill PLS. And just a quick warning that this one is going to be switching from in between diff time periods if anyone gets confused. Also beard Matt? R u kidding?? *orgasms*.

“Sometime ‘round eighth grade, remember our bodies were changing, you looked at me different…” - Ant Pile, Dominic Fike

•First grade•

You’re playing in the sandpit, just minding your own business by piling hoards of grit into the little bucket you have resting at your side. You intend to make a sandcastle, one of the best sandcastles you’ve ever made.

You stick your tongue out in concentration, your summer dress fit for the sunshine as it adorns your little body. Your sunhat is nestled on top of your head to shield you from the harsh rays that beam down from the sky whilst you busy away with playing by yourself. Packing in the sand tightly and then turning it with expert precision, your small chubby arms lift the mould carefully before you smile widely at the vision of the perfect sculpture placed before you. Well, as perfect as a sculpture of something can be to a 6 year old…

You have your back turned to your surroundings as you marvel at your creation. A mistake. Because, after you place the bucket back to the floor, someone else’s hand grabs a firm hold of one of your pigtails, yanking it backwards. You squeak as you fall onto your behind, covering the dress printed with sweet little strawberries in a myriad of sand before you twist your head at the sound of a childishly mean laugh.

‘Ouch? What was that for?’ Your voice wobbles, your glassy eyes looking at a young Matt who stands and crosses his arms in gleeful cruelty behind you, his dungarees still a little big for him and the slivers of a Spider-Man t-shirt peaking out from under the covers of his denim. He ignores you as he boyishly smirks, his dark blond hair straight and his mouth opening to bully you even further.

‘Ha! You loser. What ya doin’ building sandcastles?’ He jeers as he steps into the sandpit, his new pair of unlaced converse already scuffed up because of the amount of games of tag he’s played with his friends this morning. Suddenly, and to your utter dismay, he doesn’t give you enough time to retort back your upset before he is raising one of his legs and kicking it outwards. It barrels straight into your perfect sandcastle.

‘Building sandcastles is for babies. Babies like you!’ He ridicules as he stomps his foot into the sandcastle that you had just poured your entire heart and soul into creating not even moments ago.

Your fragile eyes well up with tears that drip from your waterline after Matt finishes crushing your craft. ‘That wasn’t very nice…’ you peep with an unmistakable frown on your face and your voice already raggedy with sobs. Matt’s beady blue eyes look at you once more, before he screws his face up and observes the way you cry, still in the position from when he had first snuck up to you and pulled on your hair teasingly.

‘Aww what’s wrong… you gonna cry?’ He feigns a pout as your nose begins to run.

Your little self feels so embarrassed that you’re crying in front of a boy, no less crying in front of Matt. He’s so mean to you. He picks on you all the time. You get no peace from him, you just wish he’d leave you alone, you liked being alone.

Pulling the stuffed animal you take everywhere you go from the floor, you hug it delicately into your chest as Matt jeers a chanting ‘Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!’ Continuously whilst leaping around and pointing at you. You look to the ground shamefully, before you can’t take much more of his abuse. You don’t want to attract any more attention, not even from the parents that all flock together just yards away, huddled around the neighbourhood barbecue. And you certainly don’t want Matt causing you even more grief by calling you a snitch.

So instead, a simple whine is peeped from your throat as Matt steps back out of the sandbox, but not before playing with you once again by knocking off the little flowery bucket hat that had been fixed onto your head. You swipe it back up and dust it off angrily as he giggles and skitters off to go and play another game of hide and go seek with all of the other kids on the neighbourhood block. He turns back around once more to rudely stick his tongue out at you before leaving you all by yourself, now to wallow in your own sadness as you slump next to the destroyed sandcastle.

You just can’t help yourself as your nerve snaps, and as Matt runs away in his baggy dungarees, you squeal a high pitched and defiant ‘Maaaattt!!!’ To emphasises your anger, before huffing and petulantly crossing your arms, your head still kind of emanating a dull ache from where he had pulled your hair earlier.

Like you said, you just wished that annoying boy would leave you alone.

•Now•

‘Matt…’ you moan as he drops your thighs from the fleshy grip of his hands. You fall to your bed.

Within the soft lighting, his beard looks even darker and more prominent as he gazes at you with hungry eyes. Your heart beats down at your clit at wanting his tongue on you as soon as possible.

You and Matt are slightly older now.

At the roaring age of 20, you had bumped into him in your local grocery store after not seeing him for years. You see, you and him had gone to different high schools when you were younger, and sure, you had seen him around your neighbourhood a couple of times before, but it had never been enough to form a proper conversation with him.

Both of you had clearly been shocked at how much your appearances had changed as adults. You found it quite funny really, that the boy from your old neighbourhood block who used to crumple up balls of paper and chuck them at your head childishly, now had himself a beard.

Matt had been too stunned to speak.

Now being the mature young man that he was, he really didn’t expect to see an age old crush of his standing before him and looking just as pretty, if not prettier than she had when in her youth.

In the grocery store, he remembered smiling fondly at you as you both stood in the bread section, before reaching out one of his hands to jokingly tug on one of the pigtails. ‘Still wear around your pigtails huh?’ He had mumbled, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you as you looked at each other curiously. You blushed, embarrassed that the day you had decided to plait your hair into pigtails was the day that you would bump into what you considered to be your childhood bully. Typical.

Although, Matt saw you as something completely different at the time - unbeknownst to you.

You had shrugged and smiled sheepishly, replying with a ‘you’ve got a beard now…’ as you pointed towards the dark hair holding up his cheekbones sharply. Matt had softly chuckled and gently dropped his eyes to check you out. ‘Yeah I guess I do’.

As you chatted a little more, both of you decided to stick with each other for the rest of the duration of your grocery trips to catch up. Matt had even walked you out of the store and into the small parking lot. After he had put his groceries away into his car, shutting the trunk and locking it back up again, he felt the need to talk to you further and so shyly asked you out to dinner- which obviously you agreed to.

It was nice to see how much Matt had changed and really grown up, it was refreshing almost. However, that dinner date didn’t end at all like how you expected it would… because to end the evening, Matt had spent the entire night apologetically fucking his cock up into you on your couch, both of your faces sweaty and blushed, soaking in the obvious attraction you had felt towards one another. His hands had tightly intertwined with yours as he pinned them above your head and his mouth had been so close to yours the whole entire time. You remember him releasing whimpering pants against your mouth in between sloppy kisses whilst he mumbled ‘m’sorry… m’so sorry for how I treated you when we were kids…’.

But after you were finished, the endeavour didn’t end there, you didn’t cut off all contact with each other and go back to never speaking again. No. Instead, Matt had boldly asked for your updated number, since both of you now had phones, a luxury that 6 year old you two could have only dreamt of. And he texted you, again and again, and he also came over to fuck you… again and again. He was certainly a lot more straightforward with it now, that’s for sure.

Matt just couldn’t get enough of you, he was fucking obsessed with you, and he took full advantage over the fact that his 20 year old self now had the confidence to pursue you, the confidence that 8th grade Matt lacked.

And so that was that.

Now you are both here, Matt making a routine visit around to your apartment with hungry eyes and a hungry appetite.

The older boy kneels onto your bed, the mattress groaning and squeaking underneath his weight which gets you to shift in anticipated desire as he crawls right over to your awaiting body.

Slipping in between your legs, your hands splay behind you and keep you steady as his lips feather onto yours again, his tongue making easy work of snaking into your mouth and licking against your own. He kneels in between your spread legs, smoothing his hands down your rib cage and sliding them to your hips, before moaning ‘lie down angel’ into your lips, gently helping you by digging his thumbs into your tender flesh.

You fall back, your hair fanning out around you, but your head not quite reaching a pillow, so Matt smacks his lips, leaning over you so he can snatch one and slide it under your head for your comfort.

‘That better for my baby?’ He mumbles with his hands coming to rest under your arms, dangerously close to your swelled tits that had hardened upon his presence. You nod and he smirks, leaning his head down as he simultaneously moves his thumbs onto the pebbles of your nipples, yourself whimpering whilst he rubs them and kisses down into your mouth again.

Matt spent an awful lot of time during your horny fucks trying to make up for his past actions and mean comments by showering you with compliments and babying you as much as possible and it worked to flatter you into wetness every single fucking time.

‘Aren’t you just so pretty…’ he absentmindedly praises against your lips, now slipping the rest of his hands onto your tits to gently squeeze them, resulting in your rosy blush turning to an aroused red.

You swallow, bashful and nervous as he gets you to lean up so that he can slip your thin cotton top from off of your torso.

Throwing it to the floor, he sits back on his haunches to admire your bare tits, dewy and flushed whilst you look away in embarrassment.

‘Stop staring…’ you mumble shyly, but he only frowns, reaching his hand forward to grip your chin and turn it back to his face. ‘But why? They’re mine are they not? You’re my little girl… not anyone else’s… beautiful things should be looked at’ he starts, and once again, you feel the gush and drip of your arousal seeping through your underwear.

His voice dims to a whisper… ‘and beautiful things should be touched… shouldn’t they angel?’ He asks a rhetorical question before his hands find your tits again.

You falter, moaning a little when his mouth comes next, fully attaching itself to your right one so that his tongue can roll over your sensitivity, he hums and your back arches when you grip onto his floppy hair, his palms now caressing your waist. ‘Fuck…’ you quietly breathe into the air, nearly having to bite your lip and suppress a groan when Matt cheekily mumbles ‘is my little girl trying to use big girl words now?’ into you tits.

His tongue drips saliva all over them, and when he pulls away the freshly coated skin shines within the light, before he goes to suck on your left one.

Matt likes to spend extra time on every inch of your body, every inch of your skin, before he really gets what he wants, which is a taste of the delicate cherry nestled in between your honeyed thighs.

Leaning his chin on your breastbone, he watches the way you have your head thrown back in ecstasy like a lion, before he leans back up to roll both his sweater and his shirt up and over his head, soon discarding his own clothes. Then, he slips his thumbs into your pyjama shorts, taking them off and almost drooling at the sight of your baby pink panties, soft with a little bow at the stitch of them.

Some things never change. Your incessant love for the colour pink ever since you‘ve been a little kid being one of them.

This makes Matt’s cock throb, and he drips pre-come into his boxers at the sight of his little girl with her tits out, all hot and bothered just for him as he leers over her.

Suddenly, you pipe up in a gentle voice, being careful with your inquire which makes Matt’s heart melt and his cock even harder.

‘Can… can I have your special kisses now, please?’

Matt nods his head, stroking his hands down the backs of your thighs as he dreamily muses ‘of course you can angel… such a good girl for asking so nicely, aren’t you?’.

His praise naturally rolls off of his tongue like melted chocolate, and his hands make you ache. Finally, he leans down, before nudging his nose against your throbbing nerve, mumbling a starved ‘these panties are so pretty little girl… I think I’m going to keep them so that I can wrap them around my cock whilst I think of you when I touch myself’.

With that being said, you let out a strangled breath, your back yet again arching and your toes curling as his thumbs slip into the waistband of them to pull them off.

After they roll off, Matt shoves them into his back jean pocket, wasting no time in diving back down and spreading your thighs open for him whilst he caresses them. He squeezes them when you hiss at the feeling of his tongue licking into you, his head nestled right in between your thighs so that he can look up at your face over-protectively.

Matt’s facial hair is long enough for you to feel his bearded face harshly graze along each side of your thigh whilst his jaw works mercilessly. The rough hairs rub against your core when his nose nudges against your folds to get better access and you arch your back into the air at the sensation of it.

‘Matt- that feels so good… please-’ you beg, not being able to help yourself as you grab his hair and keep him there, squeezing your thighs around his head so that you can guiltily feel his facial hair better as he licks into you.

‘Yeah? Am I treating my little girl well hm? Am I taking care of her like I said I would?’ He teases, bringing his face up to look right into your eyes from between your legs, obviously happy with the noises he has managed to force out of you thus far.

You nod your head, humming aggressively before you buck your hips up, wanting him to continue for a little while longer… and so he does, except this time, something changes within the swirling motions of his tongue.

Instead of his usual strokes and licks, he slows his wet muscle down, making you realise within the suggestive motions that he is spelling out an ‘M’ on your clit. After the ‘M’ he slowly kisses it once, before spelling out an ‘A’. Your stomach drops and churns with desire at the possessive yet erotic nature of the action.

Soon after a continuation of kisses, two ‘T’s are spelt out, and finally an ‘S’…

Matt’s…

Your clit belongs to Matt, and he makes that very clear with the flick of his tongue and the look he gives you as he gazes up at you whilst spitting on it to get it wetter with his own saliva.

‘You’re fucking mine’ he throatily speaks with a deep hoarseness to his voice, and your stomach rises and falls with laboured breaths.

‘Yes… yes I’m all yours!’ You whine into the air, looking down at Matt just as lustfully as he looks up at you, your past hatred of each other all washing away as you find comfort within the tangle of your limbs.

Then Matt hums. ‘You’ve been such a good girl for me, letting me have you like that…’ he strokes your thighs yet again in adoration, resting his bearded chin on your pubic bone whilst lustily flitting his eyes up to you.

You smile at how similar yet different he looks to you now, both of you enthralled completely with each other. Past pains and experiences are wiped clean from the new slate you selected for your lives as soon as you had bumped into each other that one time in the grocery store.

•Fourth grade•

You’re on a field trip with your fourth grade class to your local aquarium.

You mind your own business, sticking out like a sore thumb as you trail behind everyone else, walking at the back by yourself. But you don’t feel lonely, you feel content at finally having peace. As the rest of your class chatters in groups happily, squealing and marvelling at all of the colourful fish, you prefer to admire them in quiet silence, walking right up to the glass and staring at their delicate fins before each time, seeing that the rest of the class has moved on and running to catch up with them.

You had just exited the underwater tunnel through the shark tank, looking at the floor to see their sleek grey bodies gliding underneath you before entering the jellyfish room. There are tanks upon tanks of different colourful jellies, some poisonous and some harmless, but all of them equally as beautiful with their trailing tendrils of stingers. You gasp quietly, your eyes sparkling as you run up to a massive tank full of a glowing purple and green species that float and dance about in the deep blue water aimlessly.

You press your hands up to the glass in childlike wonder, your nose almost touching the thick material whilst you scan over them and try to count how many are in the tank.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes watch your back, he too, by himself as his group of friends had left him to go and look at a tank full of long orange jellyfish. He hides behind a small tank in the centre of the room, shyly peaking around the corner at you and trying to think of a way he can poke at you.

He bites his nails and hums, wanting an excuse to walk up and tease you since he hasn’t already done so today. Ultimately, he decides to creep up behind you, smirking quickly at the creative idea that shoots through his mind whilst looking at your dad’s old baseball cap sitting on your head.

His quiet walk soon turns into a quick bursting sprint, allowing him to race up to you and pluck your hat from off of your head before you have the time to register who it even is. You yelp and spin around in fear, your hand slapped on top of your now bare head as you look at a proud Matt in horror and fear. Your heart rate quickens. You were so scared of him.

‘HEY! Give me that back!!’ You bravely demand, your attention now distracted from the jellyfish and fixating upon the wicked boy who smirks and holds it up above his head. You go to reach for it, but realise in dismay that you aren’t tall enough. Matt had annoyingly had a boyish growth spurt over the winter break and was now a couple of inches taller than you.

You feel sick in worry as your heart rattles against your ribcage.

‘Ha! Nice try’ he cackles, extending his hand up even further when you wobble onto your tiptoes to try and reach for it. To steady your balance, you have to grapple your hand onto one of Matt’s shoulders to stretch upwards and he secretly blushes, not too sure as to why your touches seems to give him conflicted feelings of affection. You whine when he only leans up onto his tiptoes too, again, pushing your hat up further from your reach.

‘Matt this isn’t funny’ you struggle, smacking your lips and extending out your body as far as you can, before he starts to wave about his arm to dodge your clawed hand. He only giggles deviously in return.

Once, just once, you’d wish for him to not pester you when you’re minding your own business, you were enjoying your little day trip out, and this just ruined it all.

‘Yes it is’ he retorts back. But before he can take his jest any further, your fourth grade teacher Mrs Banks notices your little ruckus and decides to intervene, much to your immediate relief.

‘Matthew Sturniolo!’ She calls and Matt suddenly goes rigid, the hairs on the back of his neck raising as he turns to look at her sheepishly whilst her short high heels clack towards you two. You relax, knowing that Matt is probably most likely going to be told off. And you’re right when she berates him and forces him to hand you back your hat and apologise.

For the rest of the school trip you stay glued to Mrs Bank’s side, fearful that trailing at the back will only make you more of a target for Matt’s vicious onslaught of teasing once again. But Matt stays put with the rest of his friends, only giving you periodic glances and death stares after being chastised by your teacher.

You went home that day feeling dejected and Matt went home feeling confused and frustrated. Because why is it, that he enjoyed teasing you so much. So much so to the extent where he didn’t think he could go a day without it?

•Now•

‘Do you think you’re ready for my cock now angel…?’ He questions, before answering the question himself when he leans upwards to unbuckle his belt, the metal jingling as he threads it through his belt loopholes and onto the floor.

Then his pants come next, leaving him almost as exposed as you, before he bends back down and digs his hands underneath your body, scooping you up effortlessly and cushioning you into his lap. His hands freely trail, groping and squeezing your thighs so hard that when he removes them, they leave little red marks and crescent moon nail imprints into your flesh.

You kiss frantically once again, desperate to engulf your scents over each other’s skin whilst you place your thumbs on either sides of his cheeks. His tongue is hot and sticky, your connection so messy that sometimes you accidentally get spit over the skin around your mouths. As you stroke your fingers over his jaw and cheekbones, you feel his bristly facial hair and clench your soaked thighs at its roughness, remembering the way it sharply rubbed against the insides of your spread legs just moments ago.

‘Please- please can I have your thigh…?’ You politely ask into his lips, your beg coming out breathless and whimpered. Matt sighs, ‘but baby… I wanna have your gut…’. You pull away and pout in sadness, and Matt’s heart sinks at the look on your face, again, the guilt of his past coming to haunt him. Just then, he thinks of an idea.

‘Why don’t we compromise then…’ your face lights up and you nod.

‘What do you want me to do…?’ You trail off and clench again when Matt pinches one of your thighs. Matt smirks, and then crunches his stomach so that he can lower his back onto your mattress, yourself still sitting on his lap. ‘Take these off angel…’ he mumbles, referring to his boxers that conceal his dripping cock. You obey him without question, the angel comment driving you to the edge as you hook your hands into his pants and slide them down. You get up from off of his lap momentarily to remove them from his haired thighs and toss them onto the floor before returning your full attention to the way his cock stands and almost visibly pulses.

‘What now?’ You breathe and watch Matt’s grin as his head props itself up onto your stack of pillows. ‘Back on my lap n’turn around… let me see that ass’ he instructs lightly, his voice soothing and encouraging as you squint your eyes and turn your back to him in confusion. Swinging one of your legs over to his other hip, you sit on his pelvic bones, the sight of his sticky red tip dripping from just below you.

‘Spit on it.’ He demands once again, this time in a more commanding tone. Again, you do exactly as he says and let a thick string of saliva pour from out of your mouth. It splatters right onto his head and he hisses as it slowly rolls its way down the left side of his thickness. ‘Good girl…’ he struggles, his voice forced through his gritted teeth.

‘Now put one of your legs in between mine and sit on my cock’, you obey him quickly, your core aching to feel his shaft forcing your walls apart as you hoist you left leg in between his so that you can now sit on top of him at an angle. Gravitating upwards, you grip onto him and push his tip in between your folds. Slowly sliding down you let out a gulping pant before fully sitting your ass back down over his bulging hipbone. Matt tips his head back and feathers his eyes shut before willing himself to slide the thigh nestled in between your two legs upwards.

He brings it up just far enough for you to grind your clit over it when you start to move.

‘There’s your thigh angel’.

He smirks whilst looking at your back, your ass so tantalisingly sat on him that he could burst at any moment. He feels the heat from your clit emanating towards his thigh readily and it makes his mouth water.

Your chest heaves as you look down at his haired thigh wedging open your legs, the hard muscle of it brushing against your clit ever so slightly. After a couple of moments of silence and heaving breaths, Matt decides to reach out his hands to smooth them against the curves of your hips, his palms splayed on the sides of your asscheeks. ‘Is my little girl gonna move then, hm?’ He hums tauntingly, before helping you a little by rocking you forward and flexing his thigh towards you so that you can grind it onto your clit.

Your breath hitches and one of your hands comes flying up to firmly grasp ahold of his bent kneecap, the other one gripping onto the bedsheets at your side.

He starts to move you gently, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt slickly whilst your weeping clit is continuously stimulated on his thigh. You bite your lip, tossing your head back and arching your spine into the rest of his thigh whilst he keeps his eyes trained on the way your ass shakes gently with every swivel of your bouncing hips.

‘Thaaaat’s it… that’s my good girl’ he coos up to you with his raspy voice, admiring you from the back whilst you get off to him in the scissored seating arrangement.

‘Matt… this feels so good- please don’t… don’t stop…’ you whine through a moan, twisting your neck back slightly so that you can watch the way Matt’s mouth opens through pants, his cheeks pink with bashfulness as he guides your hips with his veiny hands. He hits all of your sweet spots at once this way.

‘Don’t worry angel face… m’not stopping until I make you cum the amount of times I made you cry…’.

•Eighth grade•

Matt and you are 13 now. Both going into eighth grade. Matt had been away at a summer camp all break and within that expanse of time you had developed a bit, both inwardly and more importantly… outwardly.

When you both return to school he isn’t quite expecting the sudden change in your appearance and he wonders how someone could morph so much in such a small amount of time… Going into your teenage years is certainly a perilous time for both of you because for one, your bodies are changing and your hormones are only just starting to activate properly, and two, Matt is finally getting to understand that possibly… affectionate feelings of his turn into acts of bullying when he likes someone.

That someone being you.

Matt’s 13-year-old self stands there, with gangly, growing limbs as he quietly ogles at you from afar, feeling awkward and self conscious in his own teenage boy body. What are these fucking feelings? Why are they so confusing? And why can’t they just leave him alone?

He watches you walk down the corridor towards him, his heart nervously thumping in his chest. He thinks you’re going to just walk past him, until he sees that you’re walking straight for him instead. He freezes, and almost pisses himself in fear with his fingers twitching and his eyes widened.

Quick Matt, think of something mean to say to her before it’s too late.

‘Excuse me’ you say bravely, trying to force down your nerves in front of a Matt, who clearly came back from summer camp with a gorgeous tan, his also usually dark brown hair bleached slightly lighter thanks to the sun. You thought it had been odd when his blonde hair back in first grade had slowly started to darken until he had turned into a brunette, but now you were used to it.

‘What?’ Matt mumbles, a little spaced out.

You raise your eyebrows at him. ‘Um… you’re standing in front of my locker I think’ you say, scared as to why he could be standing in front of your locker. Matt tried his hardest to shove down any nerves in front of you before scoffing and stepping to the side. He rolls his eyes.

‘Oh great, more than a hundred lockers in school and I get stuck next to yours’. Ah, so that’s why he is standing here… his locker is right beside yours. Great. You wince. You anticipate a mean comment from him every time you interact with him, but it doesn’t get any easier taking it. Guess that summer camp spirit he would have been surrounded with didn’t change his tune as much as you had hoped it would have.

‘Believe me, I’m not happy about it either’ you spit back, and shove past his lean figure to get to your locker. You start to put in your combination.

Matt blows a huff of air from out of his lips, crossing his arms and fidgeting about awkwardly behind you.

‘Knowing- knowing my luck… I’ll probably get stuck in the same class as you too’ he stutters, inwardly scolding himself for literally losing the ability to summon his normally quick witted attitude. Instead he stumbles over his words like an idiot. You only shake your head and sigh, shoving a note pad into the metal compartment before slamming it shut and re-locking it. ‘Whatever Matt’ you scoff and strut away, leaving Matt almost gripping the wall and heaving a sigh of relief when you’re gone.

But then later that day, it really is just your luck. Because both you and Matt end up walking into the exact same math class together, the two of you collectively sighing, but for vastly different reasons.

•Now•

‘Fuck you always feel so good’ Matt whines deliriously. ‘You’re perfect… just perfect for me’. The air around the both of you is hot, your skin rough and sticky with sweat whilst the sound of the bed squeaking underneath your bounces harmonises with your moans. You feel like crying in ecstasy, you love it when Matt’s cock makes you feel so full, because it helps to sate your appetite and you look forward to him coming around everytime he texts that he’s going to drop by.

You are so fond of how mature he is, how old he looks. It makes you squeeze your thighs together. And now he grows his beard out just for you because you say you like it so much, until it gets a little too long and he has to shave it again. But whenever it’s at that perfect stage, he always spends multiple nights around at your apartment, just so that you can utilise it. Matt doesn’t mind, he fucking loves it. Anything to make you happy.

‘I’m… I’m your good girl’ you breathe back to him, his thigh now almost soaking with sticky precum and spit whilst you grind you clit onto him and ride his cock simultaneously. ‘You’re my good girl’ he responds back reassuringly, the possessiveness in his tone only making you squeeze around him more. He doesn’t bother to bite his hand to hide his whimpers of pleasure because he knows you deserve to hear them, deserve to see the way you make him feel after all of these long winded years of unsolved feelings and pain.

You swivel on him a little longer, your tits bouncing rhythmically before pressure knots your stomach tightly together. Your mouth hangs slack as your shoulders heave more than normal. ‘Baby… baby I think I- I’m gonna cum’ you utter a high pitched breath to him, and he nods, rubbing his thumbs over your ass cheeks comfortingly as he helps speed you up a little faster. It drives him fucking feral when you call him baby, because he’s so fucking selfish and possessive over you.

‘Go on angel… cum all over me like a good girl’ he states once again, which is enough for the tight tension within your gut to snap. Waves upon waves of euphoria rush all down your thighs, your high lasting for a good while. Within this time, Matt’s breath similarly hitches, and it’s not long before he’s creaming his load into you too, ropes of cum dripping down your walls and around his now extremely slimy member whilst he thrusts you into oblivion and exemplifies your orgasm.

After they are over, you messily collapse backwards, your chest heaving thickly as you laugh. Your sweaty skins lies flushed against Matt’s whilst you rest on top of him. He smiles gently at your little giggle before scooping his arms up to tuck them underneath your tits. Using his upper body strength, he gently slides you up his torso a little farther so that he can cuddle you into him closely. He kisses your head gently, before moving on to kiss the shell of your ear as well. In doing this, his cock is slowly removed from your spent hole, allowing you to both relax in tired exhaustion.

Matt closes his eyes whilst nuzzling his nose into your hair. You delicately place your hands onto his forearms that wrap tightly around your chest. You stare at the ceiling before mumbling ‘who would’ve thought…’ down to Matt, who simply grumbles in questioning from below you. ‘That the guy who I thought used to hate me ended up in my bed a couple of years later’. You snigger and Matt smacks his lips, opening one of his eyes to turn and peek at your side profile from below you.

‘I never hated you… not really…’.

Author’s notes p.2: I just love Dominic Fike bro, any excuse to put his songs in one of my stories. No because I actually love this plot line, aren’t they just cuties?? I hope u guys were okay with visualising the position I had them in bc I gotta tell you, I was squinting my eyes trying to write it so that it made sense lmaoo. @luvmila444 u are so so welcome for this, sorry for the wait bbg :(. Also the blogs that are in bold on my taglist- I’m so sorry but for some reason tumblr isn’t recognising your names so I don’t think I’ve been able to tag u properly :/. But anyways I hope u all enjoyed this, and as always, ask/request anything, I love answering shit hehe.

Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @sturniolosreads @luv4kozume @luvmila444 @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @asturniolos @thesturniolos @matthemunch @sturnioloenthusiast @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @luverboychris @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @meanttomeet @rootbeerworshiper @lovergirl4387 @1800chokedathoe @sophie21153-blog

[byuntrash101]

big bad wolf

f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut

#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡

a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.

The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.

“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”

“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.

“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.” 

It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.

“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”

Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears. 

All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.

“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.

“Yeah I get it.”

Silence settled.

“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.

A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.

“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.

“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…

“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.

“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again. 

***

Well maybe you couldn’t…

That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds. 

“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.

He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.

The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.

“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“Um, yeah a little bit I think” 

Lie. Big fat lie.

Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.

“Perfect! Let’s get started then” 

“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.

“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.

Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.

Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.

He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs. 

“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.

He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.

“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud. 

“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”

Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.

He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.

“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”

You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face. 

“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.

“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours. 

He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily. 

“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”

As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.

“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board. 

“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.

He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.

“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.

Thanks to Chris’ prepping,  the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho. 

Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.

“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.

“Ok” you huffed quietly.

You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared. 

“You… can move”

Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in. 

“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.

He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines. 

“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in. 

“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”

“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”

“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.

“Fuck I won’t last long baby”

“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there” 

Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg” 

“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath. 

You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you. 

“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew. 

“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.

“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.

“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it” 

“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”

It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.

“Yeah we should”

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”

“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.

“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.

“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.

“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.

“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.

“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.

3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation

a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3

[ceilidho]

prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)

-

He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”

The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.

“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.

“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”

The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke. 

He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.

“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.

You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”

“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people. 

He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together. 

There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind. 

Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?

Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.

He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”

The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”

“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”

He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.

“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”

Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”

“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”

Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer. 

His bird really has the best ideas. 

Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”

He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes. 

They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home. 

He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself. 

It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge. 

“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.” 

You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company. 

“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”

“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.” 

“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.” 

He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.

“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”

You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”

“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words. 

“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.” 

“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”

“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it. 

“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”

That’s all his mutt needs to hear. 

You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away. 

You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach. 

Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home. 

This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done. 

It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week. 

“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?” 

Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”

“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?” 

He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist. 

“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax. 

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue. 

“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”

He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out. 

“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”

“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”

He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?” 

He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard. 

It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave. 

“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”

[emiliehornby]

when you get me alone, it’s so simple

pairing luke castellan x fem! child of aphrodite! reader

synopsis while luke is known for making people’s heads turn at camp, you finally give them a reason to stare after learning how much everyone seems to want him

warnings implied sexual content, descriptions of a make out session

author’s notes happy valentine’s day everyone!! the voices in my head were louder than usual, so i figured we could all use a sweet treat today!! mwah!! i hope y’all enjoy these headcanons

On a particularly slow day, the Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, and Hermes kids decide to spend their free time around the lake. In a glimpse, Luke can be seen laughing with Chris. A radiant smile is plastered upon his lips while he takes in the sight of you. In the distance, Annabeth sits with Grover on a towel, letting her toes wiggle into the warm earth. She watches the water intently, making sure none of her siblings are in any imminent danger when the giggles from Apollo kids, Sadie and Caroline, drown out her thoughts.

“Gods, what I’d give to be in his arms right now.” Annabeth’s ears can’t help but pick up on the conversation taking place beside her. “It’s no surprise he’s taken. But you’d think as a Hermes kid, he’d go for someone more like…us.” Sadie sighs.

Grover leans in closer to Annabeth, his interest piquing when she rolls her eyes. He fears that the daughter of Athena is going to give them a piece of her mind when she stands, but Annabeth merely picks up the frisbee that lands near her feet. She throws it back to where it came from and sits back down to hear Caroline encouraging Sadie, “Come on, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll get your chance. The Aphrodite charm has to wear off eventually. I mean, it always does.”

This time, Grover can’t stop her from turning to them. “Look, you don’t know how things seem to work around here, so I’m going to explain something to you.”

“What Annabeth means to say is that-” The satyr attempts to soothe the situation, but she cuts him off amidst her stubbornness.

“Now, I know not all the Aphrodite kids are palatable, but Y/N is easily the sweetest one I’ve ever known. And there’s a real reason as to why Luke is so in love with her. But I guess you’ll never find that reason for yourselves if you continue to act like this at camp.” This effectively humbles Sadie and Caroline, who mumble to each other while they make their leave.

As if on cue, you walk up to Grover and Annabeth. You’re laughing with a Hermes kid that soon leaves to join the game of frisbee, but it dies down when you notice Annabeth’s hardened stare. You place a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” 

Grover stands and hands over your towel while insisting it’s nothing. But Annabeth cuts Grover off again to explain, “Sadie and Caroline were saying things about you…and Luke.” You understand what she’s trying to imply and give her a squeeze.

It was no secret that Luke was well admired among his peers. Most of the time, it isn’t even an issue, but there were campers who thought they could change the course of your relationship every now and then.

Sadie and Caroline easily fall under that category, seeing as they completely ignored your existence when Luke decided to take you with him during their initial tour around camp…then there was the time Caroline pretended to lose her way at camp as an excuse to get Luke away from you and alone with her. And just two weeks ago, Sadie feigned hopelessness during a sword skills session. As the instructor, it was Luke’s job to adjust her form. However, it was glaringly obvious the Apollo girl had an ulterior motive, especially when she threw a snarky smile in your direction when she thought you weren’t looking.

“Oh…You don’t have to worry about that, Annie. I can handle myself just fine.” You reassure Annabeth to the best of your ability. She nods and stands to settle herself into your side.

In your peripheral vision, Luke is jogging over to you with his shirt in hand. You don’t miss the way Sadie and Caroline ogle at the thin layer of sheen coating his flexing muscles and the lines running down Luke’s back that aren’t actually sparring scars, despite what you tell the curious kids that help him out in the infirmary. You smile when he pats Annabeth’s arm and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Hey, is it time to head back already?” He asks, putting his shirt on as Annabeth checks her watch.

She huffs, “Unfortunately. We should get going if we don’t want to be late. I still have to grab my dagger.”

It’s a comfortable walk back, and when you reach the Athena cabin, Annabeth bids you two goodbye and runs inside. Luke’s hand is loosely intertwined with yours as you lead him to the Aphrodite cabin. He raises his eyebrows, asking, “Did you need something from your cabin? I thought you were working on archery right now.”

You push the door open, sheepishly admitting, “I am, but I was actually thinking of skipping out on lessons today.”

Luke’s tone is suddenly laced with concern, “Are you okay? Did something happen at the lake?” He drops your hand to check you over, but his touch doesn’t stray far from your waist to prevent you from moving away. But the gesture is welcomed and you take a step forward, a shy smile peeking through the corners of your lips.

His worry for you falters, mirroring your love struck expression, “Oh,” Luke pinches your side. You shove his chest with a shriek. “You’re awful.” He tells you, but he’s already got a hand tracing lightly over your cheek.

Your gaze switches from his dark eyes down to his lips, “You love me.” and that’s all it takes for Luke to dip down his head and meet you halfway. Your hands reach down under his shirt, feeling the warmth radiating from his toned torso. You bite down on his lower lip, and you know you’ve sent Luke’s head spinning when he lets out a short whimper. He attempts to deepen the kiss, but you pull away before he gets the chance.

Your eyes flutter open, whispering, “Do you want to skip lessons with me?”

Luke’s lips are lingering above yours when he responds, “Did you even have to ask?” and pulls you onto your bed. He settles his back against the wall and hums in content when you begin to pepper pecks on his jawline. 

After a moment, you pretend to move off of him, “I don’t know…you were pretty excited for combat training earlier. Maybe I should just let you go.”

In retaliation, Luke’s blunt nails dig into your waist, “Don’t you dare.”

A warmth flutters through your stomach when you hear the desperation in his voice. Your fingers itch to tangle themselves in Luke’s ravenous curls, lightly pulling so he can look up at you. A deceptively innocent smile paints your lips and you don’t skip a beat to get him back on you.

Heavy breaths. Discarded shirts. Whispered promises. This is how you spend the next hour in between your skipped lessons and the nightly bonfire. It’s nice, but you know it’s your cue to take a step back when the crowd of kids crawling outside the cabin becomes heavily audible.

You’re still on Luke’s lap when you say, “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes flicker from his own to his kiss swollen lips and rowdy hair. There’s an urge to run your fingers through them, but you settle for lightly tracing over the fresh love bites that are scattered across his neck and collarbone.

Luke smiles dopily while you admire your work, “I think we should skip lessons more often.”

You finally get off of him, throwing his shirt to his chest while you smooth yours out, “Don’t be such a bad influence, you’re a camp counselor.” You can’t help but stare again when the marks heavily peek out near his collar, fading in between the orange fabric.

Luke notices your longing gaze and walks over to you, “You know, you’re not the only one with charm in this relationship. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go, lover boy.” You roll your eyes and take his hand. You stumble on your way out, but Luke is there to catch you. He chuckles and lets his arm rest over your shoulders while you reach up to hook your hand with his. He helps you find your footing until your legs wake up on the way to the amphitheater.

“Wait,” You halt just before you reach the steps. You grab Luke’s necklace, gently pulling him in. You let your hands rest on each side of his marked up neck and he hisses at the feeling of your fingers gently pressing on his sore skin. Luke bites down on your lip in response, savoring the hint of watermelon that seeps through until you pull away, “Just wanted one more.”

You’re satisfied once you see the hint of pink gloss smeared at the corners of his mouth. He takes your hand again, guiding you inside. You spot some of your sisters, greeting them with a wave. They giggle at you two in response, whispering frantically to each other while you find an empty space at the front of the bonfire.

“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” Luke asks Sadie, who happens to be standing to his left alongside Caroline. Chris, who’s sitting a step above them, unashamedly howls with laughter at the sight. He leans forward to clap Luke on the back, catching the attention of Grover, who sighs in embarrassment, and Annabeth, who’s trying her best not to giggle at the sight of a gobsmacked Sadie. She and Caroline shake their heads frantically, broken words bubbling from their throats as they take in Luke’s glossy, blissful smile that he throws at you.

They finally give you the time of day, noticing that the reason for his contentment comes from your own swollen lips. You look back at them with a smile and take your rightful seat next to Luke, who wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer, watching as they go back to their siblings to start tonight’s singalong.

If the fire glows a little greener as Sadie and Caroline lead the singalong, no one comments on it. They all know better than to mess with the insatiable charm you hold on Luke. After all, you are your mother’s daughter.