Tumgik
#but so much of that could be resolved WITH PROPER FUCKING TAGGING
prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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✮ tags ; gn!reader, usage of honorfics (-senpai once, -san), submissive ish nanami, blowjobs, anal fingering, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.7k (???????????)
✮ a/n ; i dont know what happened. not even a nanami girl. but. i see a man in need. nanami sorry for what every does to you.
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It's so easy to get Nanami to bent out of shape.
He tries his best, you think. He tries hard, and he's a good guy. You always feel bad being around him and pulling your pranks and antics. You're not like Satoru - he's told you, because you're much more conniving. Unlike Satoru, who Nanami finds dishonest - he thinks you're too direct. Too plain in your admission, your admonishment, your praise.
He deserves a break, for all the tremendous pressure he puts on himself to do well and protect. to make something out of his life. There's some part of him you feel a lot of sympathy for, and another part that sees him for what he is. A man under duress who's practically begging for reprieve. He wants to vacation on a beach somewhere, but he can't.
You think it's natural - inevitable, that Nanami will give into your flirting. You lay it on thick every time he comes by. he's only unaffected in the brief stretch of time where he thinks you're teasing him. Because he's older than you, jaded, easy. When he realizes there's even the slightest bit of sincerity in your words, he suddenly can't look you in the eye.
It's a troublesome affair for him to have feelings for his junior. It's inappropriate, and he can't approach you in the way he likes. The way he likes being controlled and practiced. He's quite the gentleman. Later, you'll sure he'll wine and dine you nicely as a proper thank you. A man like that leaves no good deed unaccounted for.
But for now, you don't really want to let Nanami do anything for you. You've always wanted to do something for him. Break him down. Maybe it's your problem, since a man with that kind of neuroses always turns on the worst in you.
Still. Still. You can see something in him that no one else does, a desire to forget himself. You can give that to him without trying that hard at it, but it does take a lot of convincing.
He's got the handsomest face when he's embarrassed out of his fucking mind. He gets red. You've never seen it before - but his face is lit up. Pink up to his ears.
He's haphazard. Shirt unbuttoned but not off, tie loosened. He took off his pants but couldn't manage his boxers. You've been riling him up all evening, teasing and testing and pushing. When he finally kissed you later on in the evening, an expression close to a plea - you knew you had him where you wanted him.
So you made it to his apartment, kissed in his hallway, pulled him onto the couch and dry-humped like two idiot teenagers. He can't see him to control it after all your meticulous bullying and he looks so much better that way. Loosened up and picked apart.
He's so easy. It's unimaginable for you in some ways, that your cool and collected senior could break apart over something like this. He's normally so reserved, but you've breached some upper limit and now he's like this underneath you.
The muscles of his thighs are tense as you sit patiently between his legs, a hand on his knee with another wrapped around his shaft. you laugh a little at the state, the pre-cum dripping down your fingers and
"Nanami-san," you punctuate the honorifics "You alright up there?"
He lets out a sigh like he's been holding it in all evening. He tries so hard. So hard. You respect it, admire his endless resolve. He chokes down a sound as your hands grip around the base of his cock.
"Yes," He says, only barely masking the thin veil of desperation in his voice. He's almost begging you. You think you're probably awful enough to get him there "I'm fine."
"You sure? You're red in the face. Been a while? You seem like the serial monogamist type. When was the last time you got laid?"
In an act of unbelievable cruelty, you decide the best time to blow him is now. You open your jaw wide, stick your tongue out and let the spit pool onto the tip of his length. He hisses, almost bites a hole in his lip looking down at you in disbelief. His cock throbs painfully in your hand and you giggle - which makes him look down at you ashamed.
You blink innocently, silently imploring him to keep going. He sighs, an arm thrown over his eyes and his hand closed into a hard fist. You close your mouth around the head, minding your teeth. Nanami tastes like skin and salt and musk, but not unpleasant at all. His pre-cum taste clean, just like the rest of him is so prim and perfect. You dip your tongue into his slit, watching him squirm before taking him down even further.
"Could you please—for the love of—"
You slide off your mouth of to talk. You can't help but want to press his buttons.
"Come on, Nanami-san. You can withhold a little bit. You're so sturdy, y'know, more than I thought. Tell me about your sex life."
Nanami can recognize your words for what they are, because he knows you and the games you play with him. He frowns hard, meeting your eyes and closing his own with a sigh.
"I don't remember," Nanami tells you, honest - nearly biting a hole into his lower lip as you massage his balls with your hands, soft as you kiss down his shaft and lave your tongue over the thin skin "It's been a long time. Years."
"That so? You deserve an orgasm, Nanami-senpai. A good one. You really work hard," You punctuate every word with a touch, a squeeze before he shivers himself into a mess. "Every had anything up there?"
His eyes widen in shock and dismay, but not disgust.
"....A very, very long time ago."
"You okay with it?"
"....Well, yes. I guess so."
"Any lube?"
"There's uhm," Nanami stutters, rubs his eyes like he doesn't know where he is "Oil. In the drawer."
"Kay," You say, casually, patting his thigh as you reach over to get it and return to him no problem. He looks at you awestruck and you look back at him with nothing more to offer "Try and relax,"
You warm the oil up in your fingers first before you pull his cock up enough to touch his ass. The rim of muscle flutters as you touch it, slick thumb drawing circles around. He makes a noise you can't identify, followed by one you can. A moan, slight and quiet enough to go undetected. You grin silently as you ease a finger in, a thumb first then your pointer. Nanami breathes through the motion, and you move slow enough to get him to relax.
Once there's one, you go back to blowing him. He loosens up immediately when he feels the warmth of your mouth, hot and slick, suctioned around his cock. You relax your throat taking him deep, opening his ass at the same time.
It's more attention than he's had in a while. There's an unmistakble quality of lust, gargled words and sounds and shuddering. His chest is so flushed in the bare light of apartment he almost glows. You start with one finger and keep your blowing steady - start him easy with stimulation.
You get another, then another - and when your three fingers in, you decide you have some room to be relentless. Ruthless. You curl your fingers and search for his prostate. You know when you've found it because the sound he lets out is debauched.
It's easy - too easy, to get Nanami completely bent out of shape. Getting him this broken this fast almost feels like a trick of light - his dark brown eyes rimmed red and shaking. Such a composed gentlemanly sort moaning a fucking mess.
His strong chest is trembling as it rises up and down trying to catch a breath. You know when you find the spot because he nearly jerks his hips, but shows enough restraint not to do it. Not to fuck up into his throat animalistically like he wants so badly.
A well-trained man he is. You suppose all men can be a little like dogs.
So you reward him by deep-throating him. It takes all of your willpower and expertise but the reaction is more than worth it.
So polite, he doesn't even swear when he breaks underneath your ministrations. Doesn't cry, doesn't even scream when he wants too. His cock shudders and twitches and pulses against the warmth of your mouth, pre-cum streaming into your throat like a broken faucet. But he doesn't let himself cum, doesn't do anything but let you have your way with him.
No, he wants you to have your way with him.
You pull off and he whines. Whines. His voice, thick and deep, so pitched with need you almost want to laugh. You kiss his cock affectionately.
"You can cum when you feel like it. 'Kay?"
He just nods, speechless. Needy. You feel so good and a little sorry for him at the same time. But you're urged by a silent desire to ruin him at his very foundation.
So for the last time, you let your mouth come down on him and fuck him with your fingers. You give it everything, bobbing your hand and timing your rhythms well enough that your wrists hurt. It's a game of balance, but you manage it - because with even the slightest gestures or veritable movements, Nanami folds.
He caves in on himself, breathing ragged and practically drooling. Poor Nanami, you think. It's just so easy to get him this way, and it's fun too.
The words barely get out of his throat before he can warn you, frantically that he's going to cum. But you don't move, pushing forward and barrelling your way towards his orgasm. You can feel it happen on your tongue, cock twitching hard and he unloads deep into your throat.
You don't taste it so it's easy to swallow, and you swallow hard as you milk him making him pull you off in a desperate plea for mercy.
You laugh as you pull away from him, watching as he stares down at you awestruck and a little afraid. You wipe the corners of your mouth and smile.
"You're so sexy, Nanami-san,"
He groans in shame and embarrassment, still red to the tip of his ears.
"Enough out of you."
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softshrimpy · 6 months
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How To Woo A Hot Principal
Step 14: Meet The Parents
Summary: Working at the Weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.
But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?
I'm simply a slut for comforting insecure Larissa, sue me. 🦐✨
Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs @h-doodles @bbykens @lilfartbox1 @bigolgay @winterfireblond @gela123 @i-like-reading @hopelessly-sapphic @alder-saan @im-a-carnivorous-plant
(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)
Chapter 13
Cross Posted on AO3 Here
HWTAHP Masterlist
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You had awoken the next morning to a rather lovely little vase of flowers and a handwritten note. The note smelled like Larissa (yes you sniffed it). The small bouquet contained white tulips, white orchids and some lilies of the valley. If you had been versed in the language of the flowers you would’ve known that they symbolized rebirth, sincere apology and forgiveness. However, since you knew absolutely fucking nothing about the language of flowers you simply thought they reminded you of her hair and general elegance.
Darling, I truly can’t thank you enough for your forgiveness and kindness. I will do everything I can to do right by you. I cannot express how much you mean to me
Yours LW
The heartfelt note had made you rather embarrassingly, giggle and kick your feet. You had all but skipped your way to your appointment with Vlad. He had taken one look at you all smiles and sunshine before rolling his eyes and snorting.
You had spent the morning being what Vlad called an ‘insufferable lovestruck puppy’ which you took as a compliment. You had been sitting in the quad reading a book Dr. Kinbott had recommended for you when Yoko appeared in front of you.
“So you live here now huh?” She remarks.
“I guess so, which means you’re stuck with me,” you joke, closing your book to give her your full attention.
“So… it’s parents weekend this weekend.” She says.
“Oh, that’s cool. Will your parents be attending?”
“My dad will be here yeah, and you’ll definitely meet him. That’s not what this is about.” She explains, “It’s Enid, her parents are weird about her not wolfing out and she’s going to need some like adult support.”
“I’m not certain I count as a proper adult-“
“And she looks up to you and Weems, probably because you’re the only adult queers she knows. And since you two have made up and are together again-“
“Hold on we’re not- I mean we did make up but it’s-it’s a bit more complicated tha-“
“So when her parents inevitably fuck up and make her upset I would really appreciate it if you two would just offer her some support.”
“I-well I mean I-I can see what I can d-“
“Perfect! Thanks queen,” she grinned before getting up and leaving you sitting there rather confused.
Of course, you would give Enid your full support, it was the least she deserved. But you weren’t sure what you and Larissa even were at the moment and didn’t really want to rush into anything. But you resolved that you would at least mention it to her when you saw her. Knowing her motherly care for the young werewolf she’d probably be down to help her out in any way she could.
The mention of parents had made you think of yours, despite your deep inner desire to ignore that rather large problem that needed to be sorted. You had so many questions. And frankly weren’t sure if you even wanted the answers. You knew at some point you’d have to talk to them, maybe even see them. You really would be much happier if you could simply…not do any of that. You already had your issues with them, never mind the fact that they definitely knew you were and vampire and almost definitely did something to make you appear more human.
You’re broken from that particularly fun little spiral of sadness when Larissa appears next to you, sitting down and handing you a cute lil sandwich. You quickly forget all about your crappy parental relationship and instead focus on having a nice time with Larissa.
——
Parents' weekend arrived faster than you expected.
You had shared lunch with Larissa almost every day, which was making you far more giddy than it should. You cherished every moment you got with her. She had been rather stressed out with the planning and organizing. But she met you every day for lunch, and you would chat about everything and nothing and you felt your heart healing bit by bit each day.
You were currently standing in the quad, watching as parents arrived and went to see their kids. It was really rather heartwarming, seeing so many kids (most of whom you knew on some level) chatting with their parents and actually being listened to. There were those who seemed rather pissed their parents were there or those who were sitting with friends and their families. You were keeping an eye on Enid, glancing over at her every now and again to make sure she was doing okay after Yoko’s ominous warning. She seemed alright for now but you could tell having her parents around was stressing her out a bit.
“Are you a part of the staff here?” A voice asked from your side.
You just about fell the fuck over out of fright, turning to see who had snuck up on you. It was a woman dressed in a figure-hugging black dress with long dark hair. The dark look was completed with almost plum-colored lipstick. Honestly, she pulled it off in a way you weren’t sure many could.
“Oh uh…no I’m not a teacher here.” You answered.
“Then I suppose you’re a parent…?”
“Oh uhm no, no I’m not a parent. It’s uh- well the story of my being here is rather complicated…”
Honestly, you had no idea how to explain to this woman why you were staying at Nevermore. You weren’t sure simply saying ‘I was attacked in the woods and brought back here to recover’ would make much sense or not be met with a thousand other questions. And honestly, you weren’t sure Larissa wanted you advertising why you were there either.
You’re saved from having to explain further when Larissa stepped up to the podium to make her welcoming speech. She’s truly mesmerizing when she speaks. And she looks fucking gorgeous as always. You’re almost certain you’re staring at her like a love-sick puppy, again. She finishes her speech (you didn’t take in one word from it) and glances at you, sending you a small smile. You send a small wave back, beaming and feeling your heart skip a beat.
“Ah…I see.” You hear from the woman next to you.
“Oh no I mean it’s-it’s not like that! I mean it. Well, it is but it’s- you know it’s complicated and-“ you try to explain, not wanting to start rumours or fuck up Larissa’s image.
“It’s alright dear,” she chuckles, reaching out and squeezing your arm, “I’m gla-“
She’s cut off as her head snaps back, her grip on your arm tightening slightly. She stays like that for a few seconds before she relaxes, her gaze coming back to you. You notice she’s now grinning at you and you can’t help but feel slightly uneasy.
“I-are you alright?” You ask.
“Absolutely fine dear,” she smiles, “and you and I have a lot to talk about, particularly regarding a certain white-haired principal.”
——
Larissa was stressed.
Parents' weekend was usually a tense affair, with the insane amounts of organizing needed to make sure it ran smoothly. Not to mention the countless meetings she ended up having with parents of families, varying from simple check-ins to rather difficult talks regarding the students' behaviour.
However, none of this caused half as much stress as seeing you standing with Morticia Addams. She was sure she was overreacting, Morticia had no way of knowing the two of you were…well whatever you two were. And even if she did it wasn’t like she would say anything that would intentionally harm your recovering relationship.
Unintentionally though…
Larissa had been swept into parent meetings since her opening speech. She had a meeting with the Addams next and was quite frankly dreading it. She slumped forward in her seat resting her head in her hands as she sighed. Wednesday on her own was a headache to deal with (she would never admit how deeply the girl had wormed her way into her heart). Now she would have to suggest not only to her but to her parents that they go for family counseling. God her work was cut out for her.
As her office doors opened she straightened up in her chair, squaring her shoulders and putting on her warmest smile. Her carefully crafted expression falters when she notices you being dragged in by Morticia who seems to be halfway through telling you something she prays isn’t about her.
When you glance up at her and shoot her a shy smile her heart flutters and her anxiety calms a little. She gestures for the family to sit, eye twitching when Morticia squeezes your shoulder and whispers something in your ear.
She’s further confused when Morticia asks you to stay, earning a rather loud sigh from Wednesday. You turn to Larissa, silently asking if you should go, looking just as confused as she feels. She nods, gesturing to an open chair against the wall.
The meeting goes about as smoothly as Larissa could’ve expected. Wednesday at least keeps her sarcastic, cutting remarks to a minimum. Morticia makes her usual teasing remarks, even going so far as to call her a ‘stately sequoia tree’. She swears she heard you muttering something about climbing her like a tree and nearly choked on her own breath, barely managing to keep her face from blushing bright red.
Eventually, the Addams leave. Not before Morticia comments over her shoulder something along the lines of ‘you two love birds enjoy yourselves.’ When her office doors finally shut she groans, covering her face with her hands.
You stand, quietly making your way behind her and resting your hands on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her head. You gently massage her shoulders, face flushing at the bordering-on obscene moan she lets out.
“Long day?” You ask softly.
“Mmmm…” she hums, melting into your touch.
The two of you stay in silence for a while, with Larissa relaxing a bit more with each press of your thumbs into her shoulders. Eventually, she straightens up again, dropping her hands into her lap. You press one last kiss to the back of her neck, relishing in the way she shudders at the feeling. You then squeeze her shoulders one last time before moving to sit on the edge of her desk, smiling softly down at her. She fidgets with her bracelet, staring very intently down at her desk.
“Did you uhm…have an interesting chat with Morticia?” She asks gingerly.
“Mmm,” you hum, “she was regaling me with stories of your shared time at Nevermore.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah! She was quite nostalgic about it all. She was telling me about how you two shared a room and got up to ‘many daring activities’ as she put it.”
She groans, once again opting to cover her face with her hands.
“She did uhm…she did tell me you’re a shapeshifter.” You murmur.
Your heart breaks at the way she stiffens at that, still not looking anywhere near you. She clears her throat, going to say something before clenching her hands into fists on her lap.
“Is…is there someone you wish for me to change into?” She asks, in a voice that’s so small and hurt.
“I what? Why would I-” You stutter.
“I…most people when they find out about…about my abilities…they. Most people want me to turn into someone else…someone…better.”
She whispers the last part.
You blink at her. And then you blink again.
“…who….who in the fuck said that to you?” You ask, anger seeping into your voice.
She doesn’t say anything, simply shrugging and refusing to meet your eye. You have to take a moment to calm yourself down so you don’t take out your anger on Larissa. You take a deep breath and she starts to apologize in a watery voice when you stop her.
“Larissa I don’t know your middle name Weems,” you start, moving to sit on her lap and cradle her face in your hands, “there is absolutely no one on the face of this planet- no one in this goddamn universe who could ever be better than you. I-I can’t even begin to explain. You’re like…some fucking celestial being brought to earth to make it a better place. You’re-you’re brilliant Larissa. You’re - words can’t describe how utterly impeccable you are. I don’t understand- I could never want anyone but you, just as you are.”
You brush your thumbs over her cheeks, eyes lovingly tracing over her features. You notice her eyes welling up with tears, giving her a gentle, loving smile.
“I-I don’t understand…” she whispers.
“I know my one little speech won’t change your mind. Now when it sounds like so many fucking assholes-“ you cut yourself off, taking a breath to calm yourself. “And I know that-I know you and I are in a strange place right now but that doesn’t change the fact that you are far more than just enough, just as you are. And I will spend every moment I have by your side helping you see that. I-if you’ll let me.”
She stares up at you, tears staining her cheeks as she gapes up at you with wide eyes. You gently wipe her tears away. She wraps her arms around your waist, hands clutching at your back. You can feel the way she’s trembling, the subtle shake of her hands as they press into your back and pull you towards her. You press a kiss to her forehead, and then another to her nose before you lean down to hover with your lips practically touching hers.
You stay there, staring into her eyes and glancing down at her lips every so often. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re almost certain Larissa can feel it. It almost feels like the first time the two of you kissed all over again. You’re about to finally close the distance, finally kiss her-
And then Larissa’s office doors are being opened and none other than Morticia is walking through them. The two of you barely have enough time to lean apart from each other when Morticia smirks so fucking smugly at the sight of you two.
“Oh, how glad I am to see the two lovebirds back together.” She smiles, before promptly leaving the room just as quickly as she entered.
Silence permeates the room after the door clicks shut. You turn back to look at Larissa, a smile tugging at your lips upon seeing her flushed cheeks. When the two of you lock eyes you can’t help the giggle that rises in your throat. Larissa soon follows suit, the sound of your combined laughter filling the room. Eventually, you both calm down leaving you both smiling at each other.
“C'mon pretty lady,” you hum standing up from her lap and holding out your hands for her, “we should go make sure the school didn’t burn down while we were talking.”
“Don’t even joke about that. Anything is possible with this year's students.” She snorts, wiping her eyes one last time as she stands.
You take her hand in yours leading her to the door with a smile on your face. And so the two of you leave her office, hand in hand, ready to face whatever comes your way.
—-
Turns out what came your way was far more manageable than you had thought.
There was the entire debacle of Wednesday's father being arrested for a decades-old murder case. And then Wednesday and Morticia joined him in the town's jail for grave robbing. Larissa hadn’t found the whole thing half as funny as you had but had, reluctantly, agreed to badger Sheriff Galpin into letting Wednesday and Morticia go. Which in turn led to Gomez having his name cleared. So all in all a manageable affair.
Other than that the weekend had gone smoothly. Enid had come to you and Larissa on Sunday while you were having lunch in her office, a little teary-eyed and apologetic for interrupting you two. You both rushed to assure her she was never a bother and listened as she told you about how her mother kept pressuring her to ‘wolf out’ and suggested a werewolf-conversion therapy camp (you had honestly wanted to go fight the poor girl's mother, mayhaps even bite her for good measure.) But Enid had explained how she stood up for herself, earning much praise from both of you. She spent the rest of the lunch with you both, sharing the hot gossip that had been happening.
So really, all in all, the weekend had been quite a success. This was why you and Larissa were in town today, grabbing some celebratory hot cocoa from the Weathervane. You had just finished catching up with James (Tyler was strangely nowhere in sight when you arrived). You picked up both of your hot cocoas as you had decided to take them to go so that you could take a stroll around town.
You were walking arm in arm with Larissa, telling her about something James had told you when you heard your name being called from behind you. You stop dead in your tracks, your heart dropping into your stomach. Larissa turns to look over her shoulder, glancing at you as she does, concern marring her features.
You know that voice. You had fucking hoped you’d never hear that voice again in your life if you were particularly lucky. You take a deep shuddering breath, taking a moment to center yourself before turning around. And there he stands. The man you’d hoped to fuck would just leave you the fuck alone.
“Hi dad.”
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noodyl-blasstal · 4 months
Text
Promising Union
We made it! Day 30 of @taznovembercelebration which means I've written 30 fics in 30 days and had an absolute blast. Thank you to @ceilingfan5 for all of their hard work in organising taznc. I've had the best time rolling in the taznc tags.
Today's prompt was "three" and then I clicked until I got an AU which was "superhero". You can read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday's? Catch up here!
-
Kravitz feels like he lives in the staff canteen now. He’s used to the ebb and flow of it, has managed to time his day around it. He makes sure he’s there to cover the stand at breakfast time, gets on with work until mid morning, and then sets up is ‘ask me anything’ sign again at lunch time. There’s no point in standing and smiling through the afternoon, no one’s really around. There’s three times a day, three chances to talk to people about what Kravitz could do for them, and three chances to get snubbed repeatedly and relentlessly.
The free pens had helped, but they’d cleaned him out pretty fast and no one had actually joined up. No one had even really made eye contact. He understood they were busy, a superheroes work is never done, yada yada yada, but that was exactly why unions were important. He and Sloane had worked really hard on the sidekick down time requirements, they shouldn’t be doing day shifts into nights without a proper break between and they definitely shouldn’t be working more than 40 hours a week - especially not fresh out of training. Supers shouldn’t really be doing it either, but there was a whole mess around ‘vocation’ and ‘voluntary’ roles which he and Sloane were still knee deep in resolving. It would help if the membership was representative and not just a few supers who joined up because their parents had always been members.
Kravitz cracks out a box of stress octopodes. There had been a slight issue with the stress ball order (he actually intended to get oranges), but the tentacles were comforting to squidge. Maybe that’d lure some people in for him, or, one specific person. A tall guy with a long blonde braid and seemingly never ending layers of clothes (maybe his super power was pockets?) had been eyeing Kravitz appreciatively all week. Well, he thought so… maybe that was conceited? The man might just be admiring Kravitz’s impeccable taste in tailoring… the attention had certainly encouraged him to dress more elaborately as the week went on. But he wanted to believe it was an interest in him, not just the way he was packaged.
Kravitz was hoping this was the day he’d finally be able to lure him in, the guy didn’t seem bothered by the pens. On Tuesday Kravitz had smiled when he caught the guy’s eye, but he just winked and then turned away before Kravitz could do anything else… Which was probably for the best because Kravitz had really only planned that far anyway. Your move, mystery man. On Wednesday he was fairly sure there was a little bit of flirting, the man came and took a card, but he took it realllllly slow. He wasn’t here yet today, but he tended to show up for the mid-morning coffee rush so Kravitz wasn’t worried. Any minute now. Sometimes he had company but mostly he was on his own (and seemed relieved about it.)
“Interesting choice of stress relief.”
Kravitz wishes he could say he didn’t jump, but he did. The fucking display board with all the union benefits blocked his view so whoever it was snuck up on him.
“Feel free to take one.” He puts a smile on and leans round the board to see the man. Ha! He knew a better freebie would do it.
“Nah, Taako’s good.” Says the man, drawing three into his rainbow cardigan so quickly Kravitz can almost believe he didn’t see it happen.
He’s wearing a ridiculous hat today, definitely not approved uniform. It doesn’t have any protective properties as far as Kravitz can see. The rest of his outfit isn’t much better, sleeves which are long and prime for catching on obstacles, and the many layers would be simple to grab and restrict his movement with.
“Okay.” Kravitz says, instead of lecturing him about theft or uniform code. Kravitz is cool, he’s hip, he’s sexy. He can break rules, he can take more than the one per-person approved freebie.
“So, what’s your handle, bones?”
“Bones?”
“Are you asking me why I’m calling that, or confused about your own name?”
“Kravitz.”
“That’s not a reply to either of the questions Taako asked you.”
“Sorry… I…” Shit, he’s fucking this up. He can pull it back round. “Question one, my name… er, handle…” He regrets it immediately, slang always sounds weird coming out of his mouth, cool people like Taako can tell he’s not made for it, he powers on anyway. “...is Kravitz. Question 2, where did bones come from?” Kravitz wants to know so he can make everyone else call him that too. His Mums use Kravitz without fail and Sloane alternates between Krav and ‘oi dickhead’, so this was nice.
“Nice to meet you Kravitz.” Kravitz starts to offer Taako his hand to shake. “But why the fuck are you here?”
Oh. He didn’t anticipate this. Kravitz’s hand drops limply back to his side. He belatedly tries to pretend he was stretching and watches Taako’s mouth twitch. Thankfully he controls the impulse to laugh because Kravitz is fairly sure he’ll melt into a puddle if Taako laughs at him right now. He’s doing such a bad job of marketing the union that his presence is being questioned and he’s not exactly known for responding well to criticism of his performance.
“Union stuff.” He says, just about keeping his voice even.
“You’d have more luck next door.” Taako indicates his head.
“What?”
“Well no one here cares.”
“You don’t care?” Kravitz desperately wanted Taako to care.
“Oh no, Taako cares.” Taako provides another lingering look. “Taako is very invested in you.” There’s a pause. “...r union.”
“Are you a member?” Kravitz perks up. Maybe he can get another sign up. Maybe Taako will tell his friends and they’ll join too?
“Taako isn’t really here.”
“Uh…” Kravitz isn’t really sure how to break the news that he very much is. How could he steal an unfair amount of free stuff if he wasn’t? “You, you are actually here though… you know?” Before he can consider how inappropriate it is he reaches out and prods Taako’s arm. “See.” Fuck. That probably wasn’t a great sales technique.
Taako’s looking at him like he’s lost his grip on reality. Is he hallucinating? Did he get bored enough that he just invented a man to look at? Is he currently talking to himself in public?
“No, Taako’s not here if you get my drift.” Taako raises an eyebrow and looks very intently at Kravitz like he should be able to make sense of it.
Kravitz can’t.
“Oh, I see.” He says and nods sagely. Because admitting that he doesn’t know something is physically painful for him. He’s working on it, it’s fine.
“Good, I knew you were cool. Come on then.” Taako gestures for Kravitz to follow him.
Kravitz does, nothing’s going on here anyway, he can’t bear to overhear Captain Neverwinter banging on about politics again either. It makes him feel slightly murdery. It’s fine. He's working on that too. He’ll probably figure out what Taako meant from context clues, plus, if he gets new sign ups then Sloane won’t even pretend to be angry about him leaving his post.
Taako strides down the hallway, Kravitz is grateful that his long legs help him keep pace. He and Sloane aren’t allowed to come this way, the front entrance is only for the big name heroes, so they just use the lift in the staff entrance when they run the promotional events. He concentrates on keeping his head down and keeping up, he’s not entirely sure he’s authorised to be here.
“Taako was pretty sure you’d be game, so cha’boy got you approved for next week. It’ll be better than the snoozefest over that side.”
Maybe there was a second canteen where all the hip young heroes who cared about workers’ rights hung out.
“Here we go!” Taako turns down a dimly lit corridor. The lights flicker ominously.
“This one?” Kravitz asks tentatively. There was probably some kind of form someone needed to fill out about this.
“Natch.” Taako says and offers his hand. “I’ll hold your hand if you’re scared.”
Kravitz definitely isn’t scared, he grabs hold anyway.
Taako’s warm and comforting and rubs a steady thumb across his knuckles. It’s nice, soothing. Kravitz could get used to this.
They reach a door all too quickly, but Taako doesn’t let go, he just scans his pass, then there’s a thumb print, retinal scan, and some kind of situation where he whispers into a box. Kravitz isn’t trying to keep track, he’s too busy trying to work out if this means Taako’s important, like really really important. Is Kravitz being taken to the management corridor or something? Shit… maybe they didn’t have permission to be there that week? Sloane said she did the paperwork, but maybe there’s been a mix up? Kravitz can’t be in trouble, he’s not emotionally robust enough to handle a disciplinary meeting without getting bitchy. Sloane’s warned him plenty of times.
On the other side of the door everything’s different. It seals quietly behind them, just a series of hisses and clicks letting Kravitz know that he definitely won’t be able to turn round and go back the way he came, which he should do, because apparently Taako’s somehow taken them to the supervillain lair? On purpose? He had the pass… Shit.
“Are you bad!?” Kravitz blurts out.
“Is this a roleplay thing? Taako didn’t think we were there yet, but I can be a bad, bad boy if that’s what you need?” Taako looks excited enough that Kravitz feels bad delivering the follow up.
“No, evil-bad!”
“Well I’m not a super, am I?” Taako barks out a single laugh as if the notion was ridiculous.
“What? You were in the canteen!”
“There’s no way cha’boy could be that conceited. It takes too much effort. Taako was just scoping the coffee situation, then he found something nice enough to look at that it kept cha’boy coming back for more.” Taako looks pointedly at Kravitz.
“But… I didn’t recognise you!” Taako can’t be a supervillain, Kravitz would have seen wanted posters, he would have seen him on the news, like Kreigan, Queen Quynh, or Dr Diomed. There was wanted posters for them everywhere!
“Well I’m not exactly going to do crime dressed as myself and visible am I?”
Huh. Kravitz had always wondered why some of them didn’t disguise themselves. “No… I guess that makes a lot of sense.”
“Anyway, this isn’t regulation, imagine the shit these sleeves would get snagged on?”
Taako has never been sexier.
“And the way someone could grab…”
“... my cardigans if I was turned away.” Taako finishes. Because he’s perfect.
“Uh huh.” Is about all Kravitz can manage because he’s busy staring at Taako with what is probably undisguised lust.
“Cha’boy’s all about health and safety.” Taako continues. “My mask is fun and functional.” His voice is dropping, getting richer, low and sultry.
“It’s important.” Kravitz nods to reinforce his point and swallows thickly.
“Anyway.” Taako starts as he sees something over Kravitz’s shoulder, then spins and lets go of Kravitz’s hand in one move. “Here’s the canteen.” He chivvies Kravitz into a large room full of rustic looking wooden furniture.
“Taako!” A tall man and a shorter grizzled one barrel through the door behind them, panting slightly as if they’ve been running. “Is this the guy from the shit canteen?”
“Taako has no idea who you’re talking about.”
“You know, the hot one… uh… what was he called… er… Kravitz!” says the tall guy.
“The Kravitz you’ve been talking about all week?” Adds the shorter man.
Oh, interesting. Taako has mentioned him! There’s no need for anyone to know how many times he may have talked about Taako this week in exchange. Sloane definitely hadn’t started a Taako jar to fund their monthly food truck foray. This definitely makes it slightly less embarrassing.
“Taako has never said anything to anybody in his life, now scram, this is business.”
“Hi, I’m Magnus Burnsides!” The tall man says and shakes Kravitz’s hand heartily. Not evilly. Interesting.
“The name’s Hightower. Merle Hightower.”
“No, it’s Highchurch.” Cuts in Magnus.
“Ssssh, I was using my alias.” Merle hisses back.
“We all have downsides to jobs we love.” Taako says. “And these are mine. Anyway, moving on!” Taako grabs Kravitz’s hand again and pulls him away from the others.
“Oooooh, they’re holding hands!” Says Magnus and raises his phone up. “Smile!” He yells.
Kravitz does, because he’s nothing if not good at following direction… well, most of the time.
“Lup’s gonna love this.” Magnus says happily.
“Can you fuck off now?” Taako asks.
“We’re nowhere near you!” Merle reaches out his stubby arms and waves them around. “See!”
Taako looks like he might implode. He turns to Kravitz. “Do you wanna go talk somewhere more private?”
“Oooooh! Talking.” Magnus sing songs, then taps away at his phone some more.
“Okay.” Kravitz says, he definitely isn’t opposed to being alone with Taako, although he’d also like to thoroughly quiz the others about exactly what Taako has said about him and whether it was good. It probably wouldn’t look good to throw Magnus his card.
“Taakitz! That’s the ship name for them. Magnus, tell Lup!” Merle tugs Magnus’ arm excitedly.
“On it!”
Taako’s mouth is slowly disappearing into a thin line. “We’ll go to my office.”
Kravitz lets himself be tugged along. He doesn’t care about which direction they’re going, he just wants to ruminate on the fact Taako talked about him. Taako talked about him a lot!
“Okay handsome, let’s get the important thing out of the way, do you wanna bone down with Taako?”
Kravitz very much does want to bone down with Taako. First he’d like some more time to take in the abject horror of his office because it shouldn’t be possible to get this many things in this small a space or for all of them to be different colours, but he manages it. The couch does, however, look very comfortable. Well padded arms. “Yes.”
“Excellent. Point b, 2? Did I do some kind of number or letter system? Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Villains are a better market for union stuff. Hench people need caring for and most people consider it, we’re not monsters, well, morally, but some of us could be better. Plus, the training programmes can be brutal and we need someone fighting our corner. Frankly, it’s long overdue.”
“Oh.” Says Kravitz, because he’s not sure why he didn’t think of this himself.
“Yeah. Exactly. Plus, I hear that when you join you get great deals on contents insurance and with the way the supers keep smashing up our fucking lairs we need it.”
“You do, we have a 42% off deal with Abvgal, but you can also get some cash back if you switch your premium mid-year and trust me, it’s usually worth it. Their staff are great, you can just use the summoning sigil and someone will get back to you super fast, you talk face and face and they can survey the damage there and then.”
Taako nods approvingly.
“Plus, the one everyone forgets, you get 15% off at Paloma’s.” Kravitz adds conspiratorially.
“As in Paloma’s with the scones?”
“As in Paloma’s with the scones.” Kravitz nods smugly.
“Well you can sign Taako up right now.”
“I’d love to.”
“Right after we…” Taako crushes his lips against Kravitz’s.
It’s stupid and it’s perfect. He’s going to get a new sign up, he’s going to get laid, he’s going to do something ridiculous like ask Taako to be his boyfriend. Kravitz kisses back, hard, you can’t say something stupid if you can’t speak. He’s a genius.
Kravitz barely registers the fact they’re moving until his knees connect with the sofa and he falls backwards into it, he doesn’t let go of Taako as he goes. It’s probably illegal to do this on the clock, but he technically hasn’t taken lunch all week so it’s fine. The feeling of Taako’s thighs bracketing his and his mouth moving against Kravitz’s is more than enough to convince him that the rules didn’t matter right now.
“Form?” Taako pulls his lips away briefly before Kravitz tugs him back in.
Kravitz pulls Taako closer with one arm, fiddles with his satchel with the other. Taako snakes a hand down to help depress the catch while he pulls it free then does something so sinful with his tongue that Kravitz abandons it completely.
“Pen?” Asks Taako, some time later.
Kravitz takes the opportunity to lick the column of Taako’s throat. The corresponding gasp fills him with pride. He did that. He could do that again. He does.
“Pen” He says, and presses Taako’s hand to his chest pocket.
Taako apparently forgets about the pen, instead, takes his time to run his hand liberally around the area. He squeezes appreciatively.
“Okay, so I just gotta fill this out?”
“Yeah, then we’ll be in touch.”
“I think we’re in touch right now.”
“That was appalling. I should leave right now.”
“You don’t want to though?” Taako asks, and there’s more concern in it than Kravitz would have thought possible. Taako’s some suave villain, he’s probably never not hooking up in his office, Kravitz is just lucky he found a gap in the schedule.
“No.” Kravitz says, and pulls Taako down so that he can kiss him softly, gently, reverently, exactly the way he deserves.
“Name.” Taako says and taps the pen against his lips. Kravitz is never going to be able to look at it again without thinking about this.
“Mmhm.” Kravitz says and nuzzles Taako’s neck as he scribbles.
“Date of birth.”
Kravitz kisses Taako’s collar bone. “Address… trying to angle your way back to my place on the first date, interesting.”
“This is a date?”
“It could be.”
It could be!
“Can we have another one?” Kravitz asks.
“Another first date?”
“Yes, our first date, and then first date’s alias.”
“Sounds good, Taako’s in. You can choose, cha’boy sorted the location for this one.”
It’s the longest anyone has ever taken to fill out a membership form. Kravitz loves every second.
The week in the evil canteen is the most productive they’ve ever had, and not just because of the interest in the new man Blink’s been seeing. Their hench policy is set to be ready within the month and they’ve had to order more of the octopode stress tentacles.
Kravitz quite likes the dark side.
17 notes · View notes
dukeoftheblackstar · 7 months
Note
Why do you even like Plo?
This is like asking me why I breathe, nonnie <": But let me try and answer this as sensible as possible ♥
Plo Koon is 385-years old
Imagine the sheer amount of knowledge in that squishy, cute head of his and you decide that of all the questions you could ask, you decided to go with whether he'd still love you if you were a worm. (1) Plo would either give you the laziest, most resigned 'Yes, dear' and go back to his naps ♥ or ... (2) Plo would exasperatedly sigh over the fact that you test his resolve in this silly, little, questions and give you the same resounding, 'No, I will not" and you will crack at it for the 128391231923th time.
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There is nothing he probably can't do or know a thing or two about. Bet you my left lung that man can knit like a god.
There will always be a fine line between days of keeping himself (1) fit — which means I need to buckle tf up before I combust seeing this old man fuck someone up and be cool-dad about it <": (2) Lazy Days with Plo is my jam ♥ <-
Plo is discreet sassy. I'd go over this but I will need a year.
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Plo Koon is Old Money.
If you don't know what that is, babe. Let me tell you when I say you're missing out. if you have been following me or have seen all my shit posts and tags on the Plo Koon / Kel Dor / Dorin tags, old man knees are fabulous — let me tell you why. (1) In a modern setting/au, he will enjoy short or maybe long walks that are not stressful. Will he walk under the blazing heat because the day looks great? No, neither would you bestie so sit tf down ♥ (2) Everything is made for comfort. Fuck the vow of poverty because when when you be rocking like a proper Balenciaga Sugar Daddy while traversing the Underworld, you best believe Daddy Plo be loaded AF. We're talking the Egyptian Cotton Sheets,
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Plo Koon is one you would not want to shut up. Ever. At all. Like. Babe. If you ever shush this man. I will hunt you down, huntie ♥
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'Ts my favorite thing in the world ♥
Plo Koon has wholesome sassy chaotic gae friends.
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Plo Koon just too pure for this world ♥
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Now please watch that last gif on loop and tell me that that does not make you feel things because babe, if it doesn't... Idk man. You need to get them eyes checked ♥
But in all seriousness, my love for Plo Koon is because we don't always get wholesome characters that live long and it makes you wonder what life would have been like if he did.
I'm always fascinated by age apart from it being so damn sexy.
You hear talks about clones and their strife on how hard it is being the remaining survivor and I don't want to invalidate that. Not at all. But imagine having to relieve that through centuries. Imagine how someone like Plo, who has so much appreciation for life and everything both having spent at least a few years of his life at Dorin and him returning to become a Baran Do Sage, only to constantly practice the lack of attachment?
I'm not saying that's bad or conflicting, but imagine all the things he had to repress to fulfill his purpose both as a Sage and a Jedi. And he's smart, super damn smart. Someone who's smart with a guarded heart is a lie. His heart isn't guarded, he hurts. But he he has to swallow that because he has a role to fulfill.
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I could go on so much about why I find him so interesting but I'm stuck in a bad vibe rn and all I can say is I love him so much because I want him to rest? Like hello?
Let that man take his goddamn afternoon nap and teas? And for someone so loved as a wholesome character, he's slept on and frankly, I don't like that.
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Plus, I bet you Kel Dors got big dicks, so there's also that. ktnxbye.
16 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 2 years
Text
Work Etiquette
Pairing: Charlie x Vaggie
Tags: nsfw, smut, office sex, cunnilingus, teasing, seduction
Word count: 1.7k
Ao3
A/N: I really hope we get something like this in the show, I mean come on, office sex! They have to bang is Charlie's office at least once!
“Still doing paperwork darling?” Charlie lifted her head up to see Vaggie leaning over her desk. She didn’t even hear her come in.
“Yeah, sorry Vaggie, it’ll only be a bit more. I’m almost done here...” Her cheerful attitude vanished the second she looked over at the high stack of papers at the side of her desk, “Or maybe not.” The Princess of Hell let out a heavy sigh.
Vaggie frowned. Charlie had been at this for days now. Nevermind that, she’d been running around the Hotel, trying to make sure everything ran smoothly for weeks now. That was Vaggie’s job and it pained her to see Charlie exhaust herself like this.
“You need a break Charlie.” Her voice was firm despite it merely being a suggestion. She knew more than anyone how damn stubborn Charlie was. Most of the time was cute, but sometimes it became too much, “You’re gonna burn yourself out.”
Charlie let out a little happy laugh at that. She knew that Vaggie didn’t mean that literally but still it was always funny to her, she has the ability to control fire after all.
“Charlie. I’m serious.” Vaggie tried again, voice a bit more firm. “Don’t make me make you. You know full well I’m not above sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to bed.”
“How romantic.” Charlie positively swooned at the thought. “As nice as it sounds though, I really can’t right now Vaggie.”
Vaggie huffed and dramatically threw her hands into the air. She turned on her heal and began walking back to the door. Charlie smiled a bit sadly as she watched her go but turned back to her paperwork. The sound of a door lock turning got her attention. Once again she looked up to see Vaggie walking toward her with a new resolve.
As she was about to ask what she was up to, Vaggie walked around the desk and straddled her girlfriend. With a quirk of her brow she asked, “What are you doing sweetie?”
“You...” Vaggie pointed a finger at her, “Need to take a break. If you insist on not doing so then you at least need to relax a little.” A teasing smirk dawned on Vaggie’s face as she hooked a finger around Charlie’s bow tie, tugging until she untied the knot with expert fingers.
Charlie gulped, “What did you have in mind?” She already knew. She could tell from the look on Vaggie face.
Vaggie leaned in close, her breath tickling Charlie’s ear, “Making you come all over my face.” The confession, although expected, sounded so delicious to Charlie’s ears.
“This is my office.” Charlie tried, but it same out as a little more than a breathy sigh, especially when she felt Vaggie’s lips nibbling at her ear.
“Yes.” Vaggie husked, “So every time you’re in here you’ll remember me fucking you with my tongue. Think of is as a little incentive for you to finish up work  and come to bed.”
With a barely suppressed growl Charlie pushed Vaggie back to kiss her, mouth, tongue, fangs and all. All so hot, needy, burning. Actually she should be careful with that, she lost control and left burn marks on more than a few things when Vaggie made her lose herself in the ecstasy of an orgasm.
“This isn’t proper work etiquette in the least. You’re evil.” Charlie smiled against Vaggie’s lips, pampering more kisses across on her girlfriend’s face and nose.
“I am in Hell darling. But you...” Charlie gasped when she heard the zipper of her pants being pulled down, “You make it feel like Heaven.”
The Princess couldn’t keep her eyes off her girlfriend as she slowly slid down on her knees, her hands pulling Charlie’s pants along and pooling them around her ankles. A soft, most loving smile dawned on Vaggie’s face. Slowly her hand ran up Charlie’s leg, leaving goosebumps as she trailed it on the inside of her pale thigh.
“These are pretty.” Her finger traced along the edge of Charlie’s red panties, pulling a trembling exhale from Charlie’s lips, “Too bad they’re gonna get ruined.”
A slow finger moved along the middle, following a trail until she found Charlie’s clit. As soon as she pressed down and circled it with the pad of her thumb Charlie’s hips twitched upwards just a little. A smug smirk spread across Vaggie’s face, she winked up at Charlie’s increasingly reddening face before she bent her head down, pressing firm kisses between Charlie’s legs.
Charlie let out a frustrated groan. She could feel the pressure and the warmth of Vaggie’s lips, but with her panties in the way she couldn’t fully indulge in the pleasure of them.
“If you’re gonna do this then do it properly.”
“You’re so fucking hot when you get bossy.” Vaggie smirked as she snapped the underwear band against Charlie’s skin, her lips kissing and nipping at the skin just above the line. For a moment Charlie’s red eyes flashed, her lust and growing frustration evident.
After a few more teasing kisses, and Charlie’s hands sharp nails scratching at her shoulders, Vaggie decided to have mercy on her girlfriend. Charlie’s underwear, which were ruined now, a wet spot darkening the fabric, was pulled down her legs, a sticky string of her arousal breaking as Vaggie pulled them down.
Instead of diving in Vaggie placed Charlie’s legs over her shoulders, her hot mouth finding Charlie’s thighs, lavishing it in kisses and the occasional bite before doing the same to the other.
It would be easy to push Vaggie’s mouth to where Charlie needed it but she enjoyed the build up, as frustrating as it was she knew Vaggie would make it worth her while. She always did.
“So pretty.” Vaggie leaned down to kiss Charlie’s lips, her tongue swiping, gathering slick on her tongue, moaning at the taste, smiling when Charlie pushed her cunt closer to Vaggie’s face, “And so impatient. You know that patience...” Vaggie gave a criminally slow lick through Charlie’s folds, only lightly brushing her tongue against Charlie’s clit, “...is a virtue?”
Charlie frowned, her mouth forming the most adorable pout.
Her legs locked around Vaggie’s shoulders, dragging her closer still. Despite this Vaggie only continued her slow ministrations, much to Charlie’s prolonged, and increasingly horny, anguish.
“So it’s do as I say not as I do huh?”
“I haven’t felt your mouth on me for over a week. I think that I’m more than allowed to be inpatient.”
“And whose fault is that? You’re the one who kept saying you were too busy for sex. So here I am, bringing the sex to you. And by the looks of it, you sure could use it.” Vaggie briefly glanced up at Charlie, taking pride in the way Charlie looked at her, eyes glowing with lust, mouth slightly open and cheeks flushed.
Her thighs were sticky with her fluids, her pulse beating loud in her ears, tongue licking over her fangs as she watched in anticipation as Vaggie licked her lips before diving in between her legs again. The moaned in unison as Vaggie’s tongue finally dove into Charlie’s wet opening, lapping up the leaking slick as fast as she could.
Charlie fought the urge to put her hand over her mouth to muffle her moans, but she knew how Vaggie liked hearing her, how she liked when Charlie was vocal.
“Fuck.” And how she loved when Charlie cursed, evidenced by the upward flick of her tongue, hitting Charlie in just the right spot that made her dizzy with pleasure. “Fuck, there! Right there please! Vaggie!” Her moans became a mix of incoherent noises, pleas, praise and Vaggie’s name.
As she felt her orgasm approaching Vaggie introduced a finger, sliding it inside and out while her mouth moved upwards to suck on Charlie’s stiff clit, her tongue occasional licking circles over it.
“I love seeing you like this. You’re close aren’t you babe? I can feel it. You’re getting so tight around my finger, sucking me in.” Vaggie thrust her finger in as far as she could, moving in and out at a fast pace that made the slick, slapping sounds echo around them, mixing with Charlie’s whines as she got closer and closer to the edge.
She came with a whimper, scratching at the back of Vaggie’s head, her cunt squeezing around Vaggie’s finger, her walls fluttering, fluids flowing all over her chair and over Vaggie’s hand.
“Holy fucking hell.” Charlie smiled as her orgasm washed over her.
Vaggie chuckled, “Why thank you.” Vaggie kissed Charlie’s clit, a groan leaving Charlie’s mouth, “Glad I could please.” Vaggie grinned as she slowly pulled her finger out of Charlie’s still throbbing cunt and waited no time at all before popping it into her mouth, sucking it clean of Charlie’s juices.
Another noise sounded from Charlie, deeper than last time, with just a hint of a growl, “You’ll be the death of me.”
“I think I already was. Just a little death.”
“Dork.”
“Your dork.”
“Damn right.” Charlie pulled Vaggie up and into a kiss, moaning as she tasted herself on Vaggie’s tongue. When they pulled away Charlie reached behind her, opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a box of tissues. She pulled one out and preceded to wipe Vaggie’s face clean.
“A box of tissues huh? You pervert. You’re spending too much time with Angel.”
“Me? I’m not the one who suggested having hot office sex.”
“You certainly didn’t seem to mind.” Vaggie smirked and turned her head to playfully bite at Charlie’s fingers while the princess still tried to clean her up.
Charlie rolled her eyes, “Only because you’re so good at it.”
The two giggled. Vaggie relaxed in Charlie’s lap while Charlie reached for a clean tissue to clean her hand. After it was done Vaggie wanted to cuddle up but was stopped by Charlie. Vaggie frowned up at her, a confused look on her face.
“I need to clean up too darling.” Charlie leaned in close, “Care to help?”
“Oh. Oh! Yeah, absolutely!” Vaggie got the hint, quickly moved off Charlie’s lap and pulled her underwear and pants back up. Charlie didn’t even bother zip up, not that she even got the Chance as Vaggie pulled her along, unlocking the door and quickly down the hall, the pair laughing and flirting all the way to the bedroom, the shower and eventually the bed.
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gareleia · 1 year
Text
Had Worse
Chapter: 3/6
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Word count: 5299
Relationships: Edward Elric & Heymans Breda & Alphonse Elric
Tags: 5+1 Things, Pre-Canon, Mild Angst, Edward Elric Is A Little Shit, Alphonse Elric Is A Little Shit, Heymans Breda Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Language
Summary: Where the fuck did the Colonel find this kid?
OR
5 times Edward said 'I've had worse' and traumatized his poor innocent coworkers with his Tragic Backstory, and 1 time he wasn't able to (to everyone's relief)
Read on AO3
Breda was, by his own admission, the reasonable member of the team. Not to be confused with The Sane One, because somehow between Mustang and Hawkeye's PTSD, Fuery's obsessive tendencies, Heymans's own issues and Falman's, well, everything, that specific title somehow went to Jean of all people. And one knew their team was in deep shit when its one prized (mostly) mentally healthy individual was the chainsmoker.
But alas. Who was Heymans to throw stones at his coworkers for their character defects when he himself lived in a glass house? Right, the reasonable one. As in so much that anything he did or said had been a calculated move made for a reason.
Sometimes that reason was plain, simple and obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain. Other times he had to forcibly remind himself to dumb down explain the thought process behind a decision before following through with it, so as to not set in motion the wrong chain of events due to his misinformed allies' misguided interference.
Ah, the dreaded human error. The one factor no one could ever fully predict, the bane of all strategists. Which was why Breda strongly preferred the structure and predictability of chess games to diversity of human behavioral patterns. A set, if very large, number of possibilities, specific moves assigned to specific pieces and as much time to think as one would ever need (at least, if their opponent was serious).
He'd never had a chess piece set the board on fire and grin at him cheekily as if he didn't just put months of careful planning in jeopardy and gave Heymans copious amounts of overtime for a goddamn bagel of all things-
Never let it be said that bagels weren't a very important part of being alive. Just that prioritizing an immediate easy-to-ignore physical need over the bigger, much more pressing issue that required attention and time to resolve was unwise. Impractical and subjective in a way that he couldn't in good conscience declare stupid, because it was just plain human nature at work.
Again, Breda had only ever claimed to be reasonable. Not nice or sweet or delightful to work with. He did put in the effort to get along with his colleagues, obviously, if not because he genuinely like (most) of them, then to prevent workplace drama from disturbing the status quo. He had to have some degree of understanding of human psychology and interpersonal relationships to efficiently factor them into his plans, and at the very least he could always put on a smile and let people think what they wanted about him.
That was exactly how his greatest defense worked. In his experience humans always assumed things about each other without proper evidence; always looked for faults and defects in everyone they met, either to reassure themselves of their superiority or to assess if the other person was a threat. And it was much easier to put up with people when they thought they had the upper hand.
It was easy to expand on, to work with; a neat little trick he had perfected over the years, letting his opponents think they knew his weakness. A blind spot so obvious their lazy minds would take the easy way out, wouldn't ever dig deeper. Heymans had spent years perfecting his brainless meathead act until that was all everyone would see unless they were specifically warned about him.
(Besides, that little momement of realization when it finally dawned on them how severely they had miscalculated was always amusing as hell. And Breda never once said he was above normal human pettiness. A little schadenfreude wouldn't hurt them any more than his successful operation already had, after all.)
If it hadn't been playing right into his hands Heymans would've started to get offended a long time ago. Necessity of the disguise didn't make it any less unpleasant to hear others refer to him as 'the fatty' or 'the big, dumb hunk'. His ego could take it though. He had thick skin.
(Alright, he should stop talking to Jean for a month or two, just in case his atrocious sense of humor is contagious.)
And it wasn't like he was actually overweight anyway. It wasn't exactly Heymans' fault he inherited his father's large bone structure. And he had a perfect amount of body fat even if he did narrowly fit into the higher part of the healthy range. In his youth he had spent some time thoroughly researching the medically recommended fat to muscle tissue ratio, diets and workout regimens to find a way to keep his body in as close to ideal physical condition as possible. He could bench press Fuery, for god's sake! He had nothing to be ashamed of!
Alright, so maybe he had his insecurities. Human brain was tricky like that, irrationality couldn't be completely avoided no matter how hard one tried. Breda could admit to himself that he was unhappy as long as he understood that the distress had no basis in reality and wasn't in any way logical. Therefore, there was no reason to examine it closely or pay it any mind. It was going to pass soon and without consequence.
(And yes, he knew what rationalization was. He knew what he was doing. He was fine.)
Knowing that intellectually, however, did nothing to revive his appetite. And after he had spent a whole hour in the morning preparing a healthy, delicious homemade lunch! What was the point of getting up early if he didn't even get to enjoy the results?
Maybe he could still-
Breda felt a tickle of nausea at the thought, the tell-tale sign that his body wasn't going to cooperate at the moment. There wasn't any use in forcing the food down his throat if it was just going to come right back up.
Well, he looked down at the box with contempt, I'll just have to eat more at dinner.
And what was one skipped meal against years upon years of healthy habits? Sure, he had problems sometimes, but Heymans knew his body and knew himself, had been checking obsessively the latest medical publications for new dietary tips, had exemplary health as per the last three annual exams, he was fine. He could do it.
Everyone had bad days. He wasn't slipping, it was just one lousy meal. He wasn't a stupid teenager anymore. He knew what he was doing, he wouldn't compromise efficiency-
(It started with a rebellion, purely out of spite. A fuck you to his father, a raging bull of a man in physique and personality.
It started with an "I'll never be like you! I'd rather starve to death!".
It started with a feeling of control and empowerment.
It didn't end there.)
-He was fine.
"You guys just go on without me." Breda smiled and he didn't miss the way the Colonel's eyes narrowed for a second. "I'll have my lunch here in the office. I brought food from home."
"You can still eat it in the cafeteria." Mustang pointed out unhelpfully. "Don't you want to spend some time with your friends? Catch up on the gossip without Lieutenant Hawkeye's gun on you?"
"You know me, Colonel, I'm not big on gossip. I'll just enjoy some peace and quiet while you're gone."
"Yeah, Bastard," came from the desk in the corner and it took everything Heymans had in him not to cringe. "Not everyone here is addicted to the sound of their own voice!"
And when Edward Elric was making trouble, Alphonse, ever the peacekeeper, was never far behind.
"Brother, that was uncalled for! He wasn't being mean to you this time! He wasn't even talking to you!"
"Well, he's been a dick to me all day! Putting me on desk duty, making me redo those stupid papers I had already turned in! He deserves a good punch in his dumb face, and I'm not even wrong! He never shuts up!"
Perhaps tellingly, nobody disagreed.
"That's still mean, Ed! And you wouldn't have had to rewrite your reports if they were legible in the first place! And turned in on time! And written on-"
"Shut up, Al, can't you see I'm working?!"
The Flame Alchemist flinched and looked around in obvious confusion and then widened his eyes, as if realizing something. Finally, his hand went up, fingers in perfect position for a snap. Everyone sat straighter, suddenly paying much closer attention to their surroundings and the suspiciously tense officer.
"Bad news, everyone." the Colonel said gravely, eyes searching for something on the floor. "We have a rodent in the office. I just heard a little mouse squeak."
And so they dissolved into another petty argument, and Breda had to wonder, not for the first time, how many children were actually present. Fuery and Falman visibly sagged in relief, having been understandably alarmed by their boss' dramatic shift in behavior and not yet fluent enough in Mustang-speak to recognize when he was pulling their legs.
(Well, technically, he'd been mostly pulling Fullmetal's leg - fuck, the automail - too much time with Jean!)
One deceptively quiet click of the gun was all it took to shut down the commotion, including the raging alchemist; the snickering Colonel; Alphonse, who had been trying to reign them in since day one; and Jean, who had recently taken to egging them on for his own amusement, switching sides until they finally decided to gang up on him.
"Sir." Hawkeye had this incredible ability to deliver an entire monologue, reprimands, warnings and death threats included, all without saying more than one word or changing her facial expression.
"Ahem, right." Mustang coughed and was out of the door in less than a second. "Have fun here, Breda. Don't forget to eat."
Heymans recognized the warning for what it was.
"I will, Chief." His smile was a bit more genuine this time. I'll be fine.
"Actually," Fullmetal scowled. "I'm staying behind too. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can go do something actually useful, like looking for a Philosopher's stone."
"But Brother!" Alphonse protested, echoing Heymans' thoughts. "You need to eat! It's not healthy to skip meals!"
"I'm not skipping lunch, Al. I'm just putting it off for a couple of hours. I've only got four of these suckers left and afterwards we'll go and grab something, okay?"
Great. That was just... great. Breda was left alone with two whole kids and no one to turn to if something went wrong. And something already had gone terribly wrong if they were there in the first place. Children in the military, who had thought this was a good idea? And why the fuck was Heymans stuck with them now? He should've just went to the cafeteria, pushed himself to swallow a few bites and then thrown it up later. Problem bloody solved.
Since the Elric brothers joined the team four months ago, Breda had been... uncomfortable. He tried hard to push through and not let it show, to be as patient and friendly as he could, but there was just no denying the truth. He didn't like kids in general and he definitely didn't like the Elrics.
Edward was a loud, demanding selfish brat with no regard to any rules but the ones he felt benefited him. He was irresponsible, disruptive, incapable of staying still unless literally forced to, impulsive, disrespectful-
Well, sue him. Breda had a lot of pent up anger, but he wasn't going to take it out on the source, so it wasn't anyone's business. He'd usually channel it into a workout or some very aggressive vegetable cutting.
And the younger kid wasn't much better. He wasn't loud, but he was unnerving. Too still, too impossibly strong for an eleven year old. He was just plain creepy and had an irritating habit of guilt tripping adults around him, or acting all 'cute' when he obviously wasn't.
And the only somewhat logical reason for wearing that armor was to protect the boy, which brought out an interesting question: why the hell was the kid even there?! His older brother had enlisted, sure, but Alphonse was a civilian and had no business being on military property or having access to classified documents! By law he should've been escorted out and put into school and Edward should've been reprimanded both as his legal guardian and as a soldier sneaking a child on the base! And for worst case scenario, couldn't he afford a bloody babysitter?!
"Lieutenant Breda?" Came hesitantly from behind him.
"What?!" Heymans snapped, half startled and half enraged and much louder than he expected, accidentally tearing up the document he hasn't been reading for the past ten minutes.
The armor boy flinched and squealed out an apology, while his brother leaped out of his seat, also startled but already halfway into the fight mode.
"Got a fucking problem with my brother?"
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant!" And there he was again with the cutesy act and guilt tripping. Brenda wasn't buying it. He wasn't. "I just...! I'm sorry, you looked tense, I wanted to ask if you're okay!"
Fullmetal was watching with not-quite-murder in his eyes and Heymans didn't need to be a mind reader to know what was being silently telegraphed to him. Don't be a dick to my brother, or else.
"Well that's... nice of you, Alphonse." Breda said amicably. "I'm sorry too. I'm having a bad day and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I apologize."
(It wasn't him. He wasn't like his father. He didn't look like that man, didn't act like him-
Except every time he looked closely into the mirror, it wasn't himself Heymans saw, and that made his stomach turn. He wasn't any better and he should've starved on the streets.
This was why he didn't want children. Their cursed line was going to end with him and he wasn't going to let another child suffer like that. Not because of him.)
"Damn right you shouldn't have." Elric senior sneered  and came up to Heymans' desk, crossing his arms. "What got your panties in a twist anyway?"
"It's nothing." Breda swallowed the rising bile and started massaging his temples. "At least, nothing you could help me with."
Who was he kidding, he wasn't going to have dinner. He didn't deserve food, not after this.
"Why aren't you at lunch break?" Edward continued his interrogation. "Is there, like, a rule that one of you have to stay in the office and it's your turn?"
"Of 'us'." Heymans corrected, not quite believing the words himself, but still feeling the inexplicable urge to say them. "You're one of us now, so you'd technically count if that was the case. But no. I just wasn't hungry."
Which was a problem far more complex than a child could understand, but he wasn't about to pour his heart out to anyone regardless. Even the Colonel only knew the basics.
"So what? You're really gonna miss out on food like that? Is that a city boy thing, or...?"
"Brother, it's none of our business!"
"I grew up mostly in the country, actually, thank you very much." He bristled, feeling a little insulted.
"The fuck does 'mostly' mean? Where are you from?"
"Ed, Lieutenant doesn't owe us his life story!"
He didn't. He found himself speaking anyway.
"My parents were a part of a circus troupe. A tightrope walker and a strongman. We traveled a lot, performing in different cities, but stayed mostly out in the country, at least in the summer."
Fullmetal still looked angry, but Breda could see it in his eyes, the ever-present childish wonder. One of the few good memories he had about that circus was people of all ages coming together with the same look of amazement on their faces. That cheerful, carefree expression that made even elderly folks appear young and full of life.
"Wow, really?!" The metal brother sounded excited too, and although it was impossible to see through that armor Heymans could clearly picture the boy shifting in glee. "That sounds awesome! Did you get to pet lions?"
"The lions smell." He made a face at the memory. "All the animals smell. And they're predators, no one ever let me near them, not that I wanted to. They're basically just bigger, meaner cats. With claws."
At the mention of cats he had the dubious pleasure of watching the armor almost literally melt as the kid inside started rambling about the wonders of having kittens.
"Must've met a lot of cool people too, huh?" Edward asked, not bothering to pay attention to the rant he'd probably heard a thousand times over. Heymans could sympathize.
"Yeah. You wouldn't believe it, but that's actually how I met Jean."
"Havoc? Seriously?"
"Yeah. His family let our troupe stay at their farm in Renberg when I was nine. Spent a couple of weeks there before moving on to the south. Haven't seen each other again until we became classmates in the Academy, and he decided that it was fate and we were destined to become best friends."
"That's bullshit." Fullmetal scoffed with surprising conviction. "I don't believe in destiny."
Neither did Heymans. Because if he did, he would have stayed in that goddamn circus and followed his father's footsteps into the thankless job and eventual long, miserable life of heartbreak and alcoholism.
(Ain't no God that'll look after you, boy, his Pops told him after picking up a half-starved street rat and turning it into a man. You've got to grit your teeth and do the job yourself.)
"Erm, Lieutenant?" Alphonse perked up. "Since you traveled, you must've tried a lot of different foods too?"
His insides tingled uncomfortably. Could they be done with this conversation? He didn't want to talk about eating.
"Well, yes."
"What was the best dish you ever tried? We're, um, making a list for the future, so I wondered..."
Edward looked pained for some reason.
"My grandfather's jambalaya, that's for sure." Not even a question. "He has a little place in Fotset, if you ever go that way. It's made with rice and a bunch of other stuff, like meat and vegetables, it's to die for. He taught me to cook, but I could never get it right. I swear I follow the recipe to the letter, but it doesn't come out half as good. Pops says mine 'doesn't have the soul', whatever that's supposed to mean. I guess I should try selling my own soul, see if that works."
That got him a laugh, which was better than screaming. Fuck, Breda couldn't deal with screaming children. Especially not when he was so close to vomiting.
"...And the worst thing?" The brat snickered.
That also wasn't a hard question.
"That would be a tie between schwarzsauer and dandelions."
"Schwhat now?"
"Schwarzsauer." Oh fuck, just the memory of that thing was vile. "Fort Briggs' signature dish, tried it once in North City. I'm not picky, but I couldn't even finish one bowl of the stuff. It's a blood soup."
"A blood soup?!"
Heymans grinned at the twin exclamations of horror.
"Yup. Word is, the Briggs soldiers each have to defeat a bear with their bare hands as a right of passage, and then drink it's blood. North City capitalized on the rumors and made a tourist attraction out of it. Though, they tend to use pig blood, I think."
"What kind of person would want to eat a fucking blood soup?!"
"What kind of person would go up to North City as a tourist?" Countered Breda.
"Our Teacher would. She said she went up to Fort Briggs when she was young and lived in the woods for a month. In winter." He called bullshit. "Brother, do you think Teacher would try the blood soup?"
"Oh, I think Teacher would make it, Al. With a bear, like the Briggs' guys. And she'd like it."
"...Yeah... She would..."
Both boys shivered, which looked weird on Edward, who so far had been pretending he wasn't afraid of anything, and doubly so on Alphonse, whose armor should've been incapable of such things.
"Also," Fullmetal remembered something. "Dandelions aren't bad in a salad, if you're hungry enough. Should've boiled them if you couldn't handle the bitterness."
"When did you eat dandelions?"
"We ate a whole lot of weird shit, man. Dandelions are tame. You ever tried eating a belt? People say leather is edible, but no one mentions how it's not fucking worth it. Unless you're desperate."
"Which we were." The younger boy reminded. "And it wasn't that bad, brother."
"Yeah. We had worse."
What the hell could be worse than eating a leather belt, Breda pondered silently. Why would these kids be so desperate they tried eating dandelions and clothing?
"Remember when Teacher started training us? I tried eating ants, now those were the worst. Sour as all hell and they just kept biting me!"
"And you tried to eat me too, Brother!"
"Oh, would you drop it, Al? I already apologized! I was hallucinating from hunger! Besides, you tasted like shit too. And shoved me. Still better than ants though- ouch!"
The armored finger poked Fullmetal's side and the kid squawked indignantly.
"You take that back, Brother! I do not taste like shit!"
"Yes you do!"
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do!"
"No I-"
"Enough!" Heymans barked and the office returned to the blissful peaceful quiet. "Thank you. Don't you have reports to finish, Edward?"
The boy groaned dramatically and sauntered over to his desk with his brother in tow.
"Ugh, sure. I guess I'm stuck here for a while."
He shouldn't ask, Breda knew. But the temptation was there and even if he wasn't sure he believed the children, he still told them enough about himself that he felt justified asking for the same courtesy. Alchemists were all about equivalent exchange, weren't they?
"So, why did you eat ants?"
Edward, predictably, jumped at the chance to avoid his paperwork.
(Some days he thought Edward and Mustang were fighting so much because of how similar they were.)
"Our Teacher left us alone on a deserted island for a month at the start of out training." He called bullshit. "She left us a knife and a riddle to solve and sent a guy from her shop to harass us randomly."
Alphonse joined in.
"Mason is a great guy and he was looking out for us in theory, but in practice he just scared us a bunch and stole all our food."
"Yeah! And were already fucked since we couldn't fish or hunt without alchemy, and Teacher forbid it for the entire time, so we only had a bunch of weeds, berries and two little bird eggs."
"So, at one point we were lying on the ground and complaining, and Ed found some ants and tried to eat them!"
"And it was a mistake!"
He called BULLSHIT.
"Sure, okay. And the belt?"
At this one the boys went silent. Alphonse turned to Edward, and the latter lowered his head in contemplation. Then he looked back at his brother with a raised eyebrow, and the armored boy shrugged.
"Well... You know we're from Resembool, right?"
He was aware of that, yes. He'd even been there once with Havoc as they sneaked out from the farm to visit one of the girls Jean had a crush on. Resembool and Renberg were practically next door neighbors, as far as small towns went.
"Shortly after... our mom died" Oh god shit fuck it was that kind of story why did he ask. "Ishval happened. Lots of soldiers passed through 'borrowing' supplies. And the harvest wasn't good that year to begin with. A draught happened. And the sheep started to get sick."
"It was a shitshow, everyone was struggling." Fullmetal bit his lip. "Our closest neighbors had been helping us at first, but they went to war and left Granny to take care of their daughter and the family business. Which wasn't doing great either, since nobody wanted to get automail so close to the border. Can you imagine, if something happened and they were down a limb or two?"
"Something did happen, Brother. The train station got bombed."
"Yeah. So our one supply line got cut off and what little economy we had had basically collapsed."
"People tried to help each other, but everyone had their own families to feed, and what little they had to spare they'd rather give to their own kids than a couple of random orphans."
"Yeah, funny how everyone was all nice when mom died, saying how 'Trisha was like a sister to me' and 'you could ask me for anything' and then gave us the finger when we asked for a meal or two."
"Brother!"
"What? Am I wrong?"
They stared at each other for a good minute, arms crossed, before Alphonse finally gave up and starte giggling.
"You know I won't be the first to blink, Brother."
"Well that's 'cause you're cheating!"
How would he even tell if Al blinked with that armor hiding his face?
"It's not cheating! It's called 'using natural advantage'!"
"...nothing natural about it." Finally mumbled the older boy, lowering his head so his face would be obscured by his hair.
Then he sighed and turned back to Heymans.
"So, after a while it got... pretty bad. We once managed a week on one can of soup, some moldy bread and a squirrel. The trick was eating brinner right before bed so the hunger pains didn't stop us from sleeping."
"Why didn't you..."
"Use alchemy?" Ed finished quietly.
Breda nodded.
"It was before we met Teacher, so we didn't know nearly as much as we do now. We learned from books in our father's study, but he only had some beginner stuff with the very basics - I guess the rotten bastard had initially planned to stick around and teach us - and a whole lot of, like, university level books that we couldn't understand without context. It's like teaching a kid to add one plus one and then throwing calculus at them. No matter how smart we were we couldn't just pull knowledge out of thin air."
"And while we did know a few circles to make or fix some simple stuff, none of our neighbors liked alchemy, so we couldn't trade it for food."
"We tried."
"And we also tried making fishing rods, but there wasn't much point, what with the drought."
"And because everyone else had the same idea and they got what little fish there was. Greedy fucks."
A shitshow indeed. At the time Ishvalan Civil War began Breda was on a lengthy medical leave, staying with his Pops at Fotset. He had to wonder now, while he was laughing with his grandfather and eating like a king, were these kids boiling weeds to survive?
He didn't deserve that food. He should've stayed hungry-
"But, anyway, we made do with what we had and it got better soon. Sheep recovered and people got more creative. Train station was repaired and shops started opening back up."
"Right! We pawned some of our furniture and got enough money to buy some fresh bread, it was so good! I still remember the smell."
"Yeah, it wasn't that bad. Really helped us with Teacher's survival training later on, so. It's all good. We're good. Any more questions?"
About a million.
"Just one." He settled. "What is a brinner?"
Alphonse started laughing. Edward's face went completely red.
"Shut up, Al! It's not funny!"
"Yes it is! Brother," He paused to laugh some more. "Brother and I argued a lot about what to call our meals, since we ate once a day. Ed said that we had dinner because we were eating in the evening before bed. And I said that the first meal was always breakfast, no matter when we ate it. And since neither of us wanted to give up-"
"We settled on a compromise." Fullmetal finished, gritting his teeth.
"No, Ed, you settled on a compromise. I settled for realizing that my brother is an idiot."
"Your older brother! You're supposed to listen to me!"
"So you agree that you're an idiot? And I'll start listening to you when you stop calling breakfast a brinner! It's not even a word!"
"It is if I say so!"
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
God, did they ever shut up?
The god in whom no one present in that room ever believed actually did answer this time. Although, not in the form of a lightning bolt that had put Breda out of his misery, like he himself hoped.
The salvation came in form of a loud grumbling noise, not unlike Heymans would picture a dying whale screaming. It originated, however, from a much smaller creature.
"Well, shit. Guess I shouldn't have skipped lunch today. All this talk about food got me in the mood for some dandelion salad. And pork. I really should finish with the reports soon, you guys have fun."
Was the boy actually going to eat dandelions after this? Breda knew hunger, saw what it did to people on the streets, but the only times he himself was deprived of food had been intentional.
After Pops had found him on the sidewalk, having had just fainted in front of that little restaurant, he'd been very baffled by Heymans' refusal to accept anything but water. Once he got the whole story out, the man had been absolutely furious, spent literally hours screaming at the boy about how stupid and selfish he was being. It was the first of many times when Pops had scared Breda into not throwing his life away, and the lessons learned from that old veteran would stay with him until the end.
"Never waste food, Manny. Food is precious. Children are always starving somewhere. If you ain't gonna eat it, share it with someone else."
He looked down at his bag where the box stayed, unopened. The bile was gone, replaced by a gaping hole in his stomach. It hurt too much, too perfectly to be filled.
He couldn't eat. Not yet. He couldn't-
Never waste food.
-but someone else could.
"Ed?" he called. "You can have my lunch, if you want it. It wouldn't wait until the end if the day anyway."
"Really?!" Fullmetal brightened up considerably. "You wouldn't mind?"
"I'm not hungry." liar "It's not dandelions and pork, but I have fried chicken and there's some arugula in the salad, I think it should be kind of similar? Also, buckwheat."
"Oh fuck yeah, you're the best!"
Heymans was many things, but above all he was a reasonable man. And he supposed it would be reasonable for him to once again try to master that elusive jambalaya recipe, as a personal challenge.
As reasonable, in fact, as it would be for him to bring some of it to work next time the Elrics were in town. Just in case he decided to spend his lunch break in the office again.
And if he just happened to have brought more than he could eat on his own, well...
"Children are always starving somewhere."
...it would be perfectly reasonable for him to share.
"Hey, Al, since I skipped breakfast this morning, does this still count as one or is it already lunch?"
"Well, you're eating someone's lunch, Brother, at lunch break. I'm pretty sure you're having lunch."
"But earlier you said that breakfast is breakfast no matter the time. Why can't I have breakfast instead?"
"Ed. If you don't shut up and eat your food, you're going to be wearing it."
"So why don't we settle on a compromise..."
"Ed."
"...like mature almost-adults we are..."
"Edward Elric, I'm warning you."
"...and call it a lunfast?"
"..."
"..."
"Brother, I'm disowning you."
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ethantalkstoomuch · 2 years
Text
Fighting Family
Tommy escapes to London when his outburst with Arthur becomes to much to handle and Alfie helps him see sense.
-
A fix it for s2 e2 when Tommy goes off at Arthur, this made me really emotional and annoyed with tommy and because i'm a walking red flag i made a 'fix it' where i make tommy to be burnt out and Alfie provides some solutions. idek lmao
Tommy is fuming as he stormed into Alfie’s London house. It’s past supper time and his visit is not expected and appears to be a spur of the moment decision. Alfie stares at him wide eyed over a book as Tommy looms in the doorway of the living room breathing hard.
“I can’t fucking deal with him,” he spits and Alfie makes the quick decision this is a blood boiling situation of a less than lusterous type. Putting the book down and his glasses on the table, he gestures to the couch beside him. 
“Sit down, love, tell me what's happened,” Alfie says lightly. Tommy’s anger was a thing to behold and fear. He stomps over to the couch, slinging his coat, suit jacket and gun onto the floor. With cold hands he rubs at his face with frustration. 
“Arthur beat another apprentice to an early grave. His head is about to go under, and I’m sick of fucking dealing with it. I have enough on my fucking plate. Can’t leave loaded guns, can’t leave rope I’m fucken’ tired of this nonsense. I shut the door on the war he needs to as well…”
And Alfie lets Tommy rant. Silver words fall from his lips with an air of whisky and broken with Romani. He has never liked Arthur, yeah? He’s made that clear from the fucking start. But he knows that what Tommy is saying, the venom he spits is not all that it seems. The tensions between the eldest brothers had been brewing since adolescence but the war left the company business behind and strengthened their bonds. Only now it seems like it was tearing them apart.  
Deep down, Alfie realises, this wasn’t real anger. Tommy can be cold, ruthless, cunning, dangerous and downright fucking cruel. But not to his family. Arthur is no exception. This isn’t Tommy calling it quits on his brother, sickened by the way his older brother's head was about to be washed down the drain. In between the angry words and the muffled groans into his hands, Alfie could hear the fear and the exhaustion. 
Fear of losing his brother. Fear of failing to be a better brother, to stop Arthur’s mind from going topsy turvy. And exhaustion. Bruises lick below Tommy’s eyes and blood still stains the milky whites of his eyes. Sabini’s beating had not been resolved as usual. It was fucking cracked, and there is only so long before Tommy shatters.  
The boiling rage appears to simmer after a good fifteen minutes and Tommy slumps into the sofa, Alfie’s arm around him and the fire warms the ambience. Melting his frosty exterior. 
“Sounds like a right fucking ordeal,” he says eventually. His mind's eye briefly envisages Tommy grilling his youngest brother into covering for their older brother's actions. Finn has changed so much in the past few months, Alfie reflects. As Tommy inched the company closer to expansion the fourteen year old had suddenly grown into himself. He roamed the streets with a rag-tag gang of moxi teens.  
“Yeah,” Tommy mumbles tiredly and his suddenly sedate disposition leaves Alfie with a sudden moment of attention. 
“Can I talk freely for a second, mate? Where you give me an honest chance to talk before blowing my fucking brains out?”
Tommy tilts his head up with a cynical gaze but without protest. 
“Arthur’s a fucking nutjob, right? We both know that he’s never quite going to be on his rocker. But…and listen to me okay, please just listen. I have this fucken’ suspiciousn, like one of those rocks in your shoes that aren’t really there, yeah? I suspect that you ain’t actually thinking Arthur needs to be disposed of before he goes proper mental, I don’t really think you're sick of him. Radical thoughts I know but hold on.” Alfie feels Tommy shift in  his hold and knows there's nothing he can do if he suddenly decides he no longer wants to be a part of this conversation. 
“You’re actually, just really fucking tired. Of being the bloke in charge and sorting shit out. Only a few weeks ago you was fucking beaten half to death by some nut job. That shit fucks you up, sweetheart. Makes it harder to cope when other things go wrong, because you're still figuring out how to cope yourself.” 
The silence is tense and prickling for the minute following Alfie’s speech. Alfie waits for the violent outburst that rips them apart. It never comes. He stares straight ahead into the slowly dying fire and feels a sudden shift against his side. Something like a face being burrowed into his chest, but he doesn’t turn to check. Like stalking deer, no sudden moves. But then something hot and damp starts to bloom through the shirt and against his skin. Seconds later it's followed by a shaking. 
Then and only then, does he move to wrap his over arm around Tommy’s small form. It’s a quiet embrace, but Tommy appreciates the weight of the arms around him. They cocoon him from the world full of his own failures which he can’t bear to face right now. 
“I don’t know how to be better,” he chokes  into the waist coat that rubs against his face. “I need to be fucking better and I don’t fucking know how.” 
Alfie brings a hand to card through Tommy’s hair. “You don’t need to be better, Thomas. You just need some rest.” 
“I can’t fucking rest,” his voice takes on an agitated tinge. “It’s not just problems in the company. I was approached for Irish business, can’t fucking tell anyone about that or we all end up dead. Fucking coppers causing problems again. Someone once decided I was the fucking boss for better of for worse and now I’m stuck with it.” 
It breaks Alfie’s fucking heart just a bit. Hearing the burnt out tone in Tommy’s voice. He tightens his hold around Tommy’s tense shoulders. “You’re not alone in this, treacle. We’ve joined forces now. Take a sabbatical, I can deal with things. Fuck, I’ve even got Ollie proficient enough at holding down the fort.” Here, Alfie chose his words very carefully. “Take the rest you need, we’ll manage to keep the company standing.”
His words seem to calm Tommy’s outburst and he lets his head roll back against Alfie’s shoulder. But the quiet only lasts for a few minutes. 
“I don’t know what to do about Arthur,” Tommy whispered to the glowing embers of the fire. 
That stumps Alfie just a bit. He has no fucking clue either. “Well,” he starts, mulling it over. “I’d say you too need to stop having conversations that end in screaming matches. Not the best resolution, then again. Like I can fucking talk. Before I met you Ollie was hiding a body every other week.”
The idea brings a smile to Tommy’s lips. 
“Nah…he needs a rest. You too. Margate or some such shit. He’s got his head the wrong way around. Boxing when he’s angry makes his brain think he needs to be angry when he boxes, not a good idea. I know you don’t like the shit the quacks gave him, but it’s probably a good idea that he’s on it.”
Tommy rubs his hands against his face and groans. “You of all people have the right ideas about keeping people calm and I only manage to fucking rile them up.”
He laughs and drops a kiss into Tommy’s hair. “That’s because I’m not his brother, darling.  Easier for me to see the solutions when I don’t care about him the way you do.” 
Tommy settles for that answer and they settle down again. A few moments pass and Alfie rises to throw another log on the fire and it roars in the background. It fills the room with warmth, and neither of them can find it in their souls to find the energy to leave their spot on the sofa; leaning into each other, hands entwined in their laps. 
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greyias · 2 years
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fic writer meme
Tagged by @swtorpadawan​ -- thanks for the tag!
Tagging: Open tag! Tag yourself in if you want! ♥︎
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
93 (it would probably be closer to 200 if I didn’t insist on combining my prompt responses into anthologies, but that requires like, coming up with titles and descriptions for each. And I got no time for that)
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
691,415
Oh, my. For some reason I thought it’d be lower.
3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Across the Stars (SWTOR), Wit's End (SGA), By Guidance of the Stars (SWTOR), See No Evil (SGA), Unsent Correspondence (SWTOR)
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to! AO3 makes it easy, so I try to answer there as much as I can, although sometimes it takes me a few days to form proper words because for some reason I can’t brain when it comes to comments.
FFnet became a flaming garbage fire that was actively hostile to authors, and made it really hard to respond or reply so I kind of gave up over there (and the I’m not even sure if I’m getting notifications anymore if people are even leaving reviews? Is the site still up? I don’t know, I haven’t checked in forever.)
I’m really bad at doing it here on Tumblr, because like? I’m not really sure what the proper etiquette is? Do people feel weird if you @ them and respond to their tags? Is that the done thing? Or is it like “thank you for your kind words internet stranger I hold them close to my busom and cherish them always but never speak those words aloud”? Having a bit of social anxiety I kind of defaulted to the latter, because I didn’t want to be weird if replying wasn’t the done thing here. (But yes I do see and love all of your tags!)
5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Oh goodness... I’m not going to count my earliest works, because you know, teenage angst and all. Of what has been actively written (and not just in my head waiting to be written), I would say Thicker than Water (SGA), because while in my head the downer ending was eventually resolved -- I never actually resolved it because writer brain didn’t cooperate in writing the follow-up.
There’s a few SWTOR fics I’ve written where the ending is a bit more tragic or angsty, but in my head those aren’t as angsty because there’s other stories around different points in the timeline that show that what’s an angsty ending in a one-shot is eventually resolved later into a happier resolution.
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
I would guess maybe Caught (SWTOR)? I generally try to end most stories on an upbeat ending, unless I’m just going for an emotional one-two punch (sorrynotsorry ♥︎). However I think maybe that was one of the ones that seemed to generate the most squee from readers.
7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
In generally no. I’m trying to think if I’ve got any, and nothing is coming to mind.
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
This is... a complicated question. And I’m now going to put this under a cut so as to allow people to scroll on by if they so wish.
I wish I could just easily answer no, because no one really wants that, right? And I considered remaining silent and just answering briefly, but fuck it.
The short answer is: Maybe?
The longer answer: Due to a little trail of clues that I can’t tell if were intentional or not, unfortunately last year I stumbled across a series of vague posts complaining about very specific story elements in a fic I wrote, including a photoshopped meme as a “joke” that basically said people who write those elements shouldn’t be allowed to write SWTOR Blorbo because they don’t deserve him in their fics. Classy.
Because of the way the posts were written, there’s no way to know definitively that the poster was talking about me -- except that shortly before those posts were written, the poster left kudos on that fic and another that seemed to suspiciously line up with another post of them complimenting-complaining about. And then, for some bizarre reason, they went rifling through my blog, dug up a week old post to reply to it and then try and tell me that I was wrong about something I was idly musing on in the tags.
As you can imagine, I was extremely baffled by this WTFery, went to their blog, and got a face full of what appeared to be vague blogging about how I didn’t understand the character of the fic they left kudos on and shouldn’t be allowed to write him? Which made me second guess if it was about me. But also, the specific element that generated the shitty photoshop meme? WAS IN THE FIC THEY LEFT KUDOS ON. YOU CAN UNDERSTAND MY CONFUSION. And also the feeling like I just got punched in the face.
(Also I should mention this is not the first time this person has made rants about specific fic elements that felt like they were specifically targeting one fic that hit a little too close to home)
But honestly, even if that wasn’t about me (as you can see above on why I’m unsure) -- fuck that person. They were clearly being an asshole and badmouthing someone in fandom. I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but maybe you shouldn’t photoshop memes mocking other people. And if you want to complain about a fic, have the guts to leave a bad review. I have plenty of fics I’ve read that I didn’t care for, for one reason or another. And you know what I’ve done?
Nothing. Because at the end of the day, I didn’t want to be an asshole just because I personally disagreed with an element of someone’s writing. An act that, unless you’re kind of a weirdo who wants to chase fandom clout (why tho????), is almost exclusively an act made out of love for the source material, or for the love of writing/creativity/what-have-you.
Do not worry, that person is blocked on their five million accounts they keep rotating through, and will continue to have them blocked until they grow up and learn how to behave in a community.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Um... what kind is there? Other than the smutty kind? But yes, I do occasionally have the nsfw entry now and then.
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
For some bizarre reason, the one Four Brothers fic I wrote years upon years ago is a popular one for teenagers to steal and swap the characters out. Off the top of my head, it was turned into a Supernatural fic once, and for some reason One Direction another time??? It’s possible there was more but those two are the ones that stick out in my head. And the funny thing is, that particular fic is super tropey, so they probably would have gotten away with it if they’d just filed off the really unique framing device used to open each of the first few chapters.
And unfortunately it seemed like almost the entirety of my SWTOR fic collection was thrown into a blender and then various sentences and paragraphs were fed through Google Translate and then back again(?), then piecemealed into various fics by an offender who apparently wanted to replace my Knight with theirs. (They even stole poor Grey’s coffee order.) This went on for about six months by the time I discovered it, mostly because the plagiarist for some reason started @’ing me in WIP memes, with my actual sentences staring back at me.
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I have! Several of my SGA fics were translated into French, and I think Russian over the years. Someone requested to translate one of my SWTOR fics a while back, but I’m not sure if anything ever came of that one.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have! ♥︎ The only one up on AO3 is a collaboration between me and the always lovely @jadesfire about the SGA team playing a bunch of board games. It was a blast to work on, and I may have gotten a little carried away with the visuals. 😅
13. What’s your all time favourite ship?
I don’t think anyone will be surprised if I say it’s Theron Shan x Jedi Knight, based on the pure volume that I’ve written. They live rent free in my head still, so I guess that says something.
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?
Oh goodness, I think the only one that has active words on I’ve already shared, which is this piece that got completely Joss’d by Fractured Alliances. There are few stories rattling around in my head that I still hope to write, so I haven’t given up on them yet (like the Theron Childhood AUs that maybe will get more pointed Photoshopped memes).
15. What are your writing strengths?
I feel like this is difficult to answer objectively -- but maybe dialogue? I have a lot of fun writing it, and routinely have to reign myself back in, and my “cut bits” documents are sometimes half witty dialogue exchanges that I cut because they were rapidly derailing a scene.
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
Description. Hands down. It’s the absolute biggest struggle for me, to remember to include it to begin with, and then to make it flow and feel like it’s not something that I just inserted after the fact (spoiler: it usually is.)
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
I usually try to avoid it as much as possible, because I am fluent in exactly one language, English, and some days I question even that. I usually try and write around or allude to whatever is being spoken, and indicate that it’s written in another language. Things like fictional languages I might pepper in some words or phrases here or there, but then usually also put the translation in too.
Real world languages I am more often than not likely to get it wrong, and would rather not make an ass of myself so avoid it. If I had to include a snatch here or there? I’d probably enlist a native speaker to help correct it after the fact.
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
The first fandom I’ll admit to writing and publishing for is Rawhide. Although I think there’s a lost ficlet somewhere that I wrote for the Jedi Apprentice series that bit it when Yahoo Groups shut down. (Don’t worry, it’s no big loss. It really wasn’t that good, long, nor did it make a lot of sense.)
19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet, but want to?
I don’t really have any that come to mind. Generally when I want to write something, I write it 😅
20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
Oh goodness, this changes by the day/hour. I think my consistent answer has more or less been “Unsent Correspondence”, because I angsted over that one, and turned what would have originally been like, this massive 200-300k fic idea into a neat 10,000 word epistolary character exploration. I think at least half of my affection for that fic is the fact that I saved myself a ton of work and didn’t generate an unfinished massive WIP.
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The "I Can 'Pin' Posts on Tumblr Now? Since When?" Intro/Masterpost
Greetings and welcome to the "Who The Fuck Am I?" post written by yours truly, whoever the fuck I am. Now that I'm back on my Fandom bullshit again in at least 2 blogs, I thought I'd re-introduce myself.
I am 2nd gen Korean-American on the Best West Coast. I ID as she/they/shiro, and ace/demi. I'm in the millennial bracket (aka, I am a Legal Adult) so be mindful when interacting with me. I do what I can to be antiracist and am always learning to be better.
I am some iteration of "shirozora" on: LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, Discord. My first Fandom 2.0 was political/pundit RPF and my first fandom fallout was Racefail '09, so you could say I've Seen Some Shit. Been 5+ years since I last engaged in actual Fandom, yet here the fuck I am.
Fandoms I have written/drawn for (FFN years do not count, I purged that account): political/pundit RPF, Supernatural, Tron: Legacy, MCU, Star Trek (AOS), Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Final Fantasy XIV, Star Wars/The Mandalorian
A Short List Of Things I Wrote in No Particular Order:
Lost Symphony (T): SPN; Dean/Cassie, Sam/Jessica, pre-Dean/Castiel; for the Racebending Revenge challenge - "Mary Ahn Winchester died on the ceiling of the nursery on November 2, 1983."
We Are Pilots (T+): Tron: Legacy; Sam/Tron; for the Tron Kink Meme - "Six months and Sam still can't shake off his father's ghost, so Quorra suggests returning to the Grid to find the answers he needs to move on."
Wishing Well (T): Captain America: The First Avenger; Steve/Howard, Steve/Peggy, unfulfilled Howard/Peggy/Steve; for the Cap Kink Meme - "And you just wanna feel like a coin that's been tossed / In a wishing well, a wishing well."
A Thousand Eyes Staring Back (T+): Mass Effect 2; Kaiden/m!Shep - "His problems start at Horizon, aka that time Kaidan Alenko was having a really bad day and his former CO was supposed to be dead."
Waking Ghosts (T+): Dragon Age; Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan Inquisitor; the Mummy (1999) AU nobody asked for - "Dorian Pavus, formerly of Qarinus, is an archivist at the Magisterium research outpost in Hightown."
Seasons Change (T): Black Panther/MCU; M'Baku/T'Challa - "A fisherman finds a dying king in his nets and Hanuman offers M'Baku an opportunity to repay T'Challa for sparing his life at Warrior Falls."
born in a thunderstorm (T+): Star Trek: AOS, Captain Marvel, Thor: Ragnarok, Guardians of the Galaxy; Kirk/McCoy; the worst AU I ever wrote - "Kevin Riley insists that James Kirk didn't die on Tarsus IV. Nobody believes him."
Dangerous Dreams series (T) - The Storm; The Suns; Between Planets: Star Wars/The Mandalorian; Din/Luke; the reason why I'm writing this post - "To want something for yourself, that is a dangerous dream."
I cross-post and occasionally write about writing at @shirozora-writes. But I bet a bunch of y'all stumbled into my little sandbox through @shirozora-draws, so let's talk about that!
I suffered from artist's block for almost 4 years. That ended when I became utterly fixated on "So Grogu has two dads now - oh no." I fucking ragequit Star Wars after the fucking world lied to me about The Last Jedi* and now I'm doing the most insane and involved fanworks because of Star Wars. The fuck???
To end this unapologetically long-ass Intro Post, here are my 3 favorite recent doodles:
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The original post is here. First time animating with Clip Studio Paint and I had a two-day meltdown over it.
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The original post is here. Fun fact: the file name is "homoerotic chin tilt yolo". Also, 6.4k notes? You guys are wild.
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The original post is here. The final illustration from The Suns.
*I hate The Last Jedi the most not just because it's racist sexist garbage that trashed everyone except Kylo Ren whoever the fuck he thinks he is, and jumpstarted some of the most toxic fandom behavior I had the displeasure of witnessing, but also because I read so much praise for it before walking into the theater, paying for a ticket with my own money, and realizing 5 minutes into the film that I was gonna have the worst time of my life. I can't and probably will never watch Knives Out because I still haven't forgiven the director for the psychological damage. This is 100% a TLJ Hate Zone.
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togrowoldinv · 2 years
Text
Gym Happenings
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Things heat up after training with Natasha.
Warnings: 18+ please! Smut (masturbation, fingering, thigh riding, etc.)
Note: Y’all this is more detailed than any smut I’ve written so far, and idk about it but I’m putting it out and running away 👀
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist
“Great workout today, y/n,” Natasha says.
“Thanks. You really kicked my ass,” you reply with a laugh.
“That was the goal,” Nat says and as she turns around to go to the exit you are closer than she thought. You and Nat stand mere inches from each other.
Without warning, Natasha crashes her lips into yours. Her hands travel to your neck to bring you closer and deepen the kiss. It quickly turns into a full on make out as Natasha’s tongue enters your mouth first, but you catch up and meet hers fervently.
Before you even have processed it, Nat has you both laid on the ground and your shirt and pants ripped off.
“Is this okay?” Natasha asks you as her hand finds its way to your bra.
“Please, yes. You can do anything to me,” you say and feel heat rising in your face. “I mean- I”
“You can do anything to me too,” she interrupts you. “But first, can you do something for me?”
“Of course,” you say, really having no clue where she’s going with this.
“Touch yourself for me,” Natasha says, her voice is deep and raw.
“What? I- you would want to see that?”
“I know you’re aching to, detka, so go ahead.”
“Are you sure? I mean someone could walk in,” you say, a blush creeping up your neck.
“So what if they do?”
“Fuck,” you breathe out. Your hand drops into your panties, but Natasha is quick to pull them off of you entirely.
“Good girl,” Natasha says, leaning down to drop a teasing, featherlight kiss to your lips.
When she starts taking her own clothes off, your hand subconsciously picks up its pace. You knew she would be beautiful under those layers, but you underestimated how breathtakingly so.
It doesn’t take her long before she wants a piece of you herself, not being able to hold out until you reach your first orgasm on your own.
The way her red locks cascade so sweetly over her muscular back and shoulders and the way her abs flex and relax as she straddles you truly takes any sense of insecurity you had left away.
She breathes heavily above you and leans down to place open mouthed kisses all over your neck and jaw.
Her fingers replace yours and she enters you, groaning at how wet you already are. Somehow she’s already an expert at your body, touching you everywhere you need her. She feels when you are getting close.
“Let go, y/n,” Natasha says and on command you cum hard against her hand. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this,” Natasha says as she leans down to kiss you.
Natasha starts grinding her center against your thigh and she loses all resolve too. Her mind only thinks about you. Especially when you lick and suck her chest as she rides your thigh. And it doesn’t take her long to reach her peak either. She cums with the shout of your name.
The two of you take some time to come down from your high and you share kisses much softer than before.
“That was amazing,” you say when you two break for air.
“It was,” Nat agrees.
“Can we do it again sometime?” You ask her.
“I’d like to take you on proper date, but since we’ve already done it, it can’t hurt to do it again, right? How about now?”
“Okay. But this time I want to see you touch yourself,” you say, surprised at your own boldness.
“Fuck, was it that hot when I said it?” Natasha asks. You nod and she captures your lips once again.
Needless to say, it’s the best afternoon of your life.
Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @nataliaromanova-widow @be-missed @romanoffscottage @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @mythosphere-x @b0r3d-s1mp1ng-b1tch @readings-stuff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @milfloverslut @yelenabelovaisthebettersister @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @wandassitcom @ggrangerdanger @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @mortallytremendoussandwich @xxromanoffxx @peanutbutterprincess @karmasgxrl @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @exhaustedfangirl @when-wolves-howl @natashalovers @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @sammi1642 @itsyourgirlmalise @jujuu23
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emeraldiis · 3 years
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Pillow Talk
A/N: i will never apologize for being horny on main
AO3 Link
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: After an entire day of staring at you in that bikini, Loki is left utterly desperate for release. Good thing he sleeps with a lot of pillows.
Tags: masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping, needy!Loki, pining
Loki shifted on the bed, mashing his face roughly into the satin pillow case. It was nearly dawn, and he hadn’t slept. Even the tiniest hint of sleep had evaded him, and he’d tossed and turned enough to make his muscles ache in protest. With a frustrated growl, he rolled onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. This was never going to work.
He had no one to blame but himself for his insomnia. Really, it was pathetic, the way his mind had latched onto one silly little human and made her the object of his obsession. You with your silky hair and soft eyes, keeping him up until the morning hours. Your melodic voice rang in his eardrums, and every time he closed his eyes, he’d see that perfect skin of yours and wish it was pressed up against--
With a gasp, Loki swiftly brought his hands down to grasp the sheets in agony. He wished he could blame it on the fact that he hadn’t bed anyone in at least a decade, but he knew himself. Celibacy had never been an issue for him in the past; he wasn’t a teenage boy, he could control his needs. But you had him feeling like one all over again. The way he gawked at you like it was his first time seeing a pair of breasts nearly spill out of a way-too-tight tank top, it was downright shameful. You were just so innocent, so pure, and he longed to see that smile collapse into a pout as you whimpered against his lips.
Despite his best efforts, Loki could feel his cock throb in renewed need. It had been begging for release nearly all night, and Loki had successfully ignored it so far. He held steady in his determination in not giving in, but his resolve was slipping. Today has been especially tortuous. Tony and his goddamn insistence that Loki participate in team bonding. A day at the beach, one which Loki spent lounging in the hot sand shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. You had splashed around in the waves with Natasha and bounced around in a bikini that seemed specifically designed to torture Loki. The bottoms had shifted themselves to ride up quite a few times, and Loki had taken pleasure in watching you reach back with slippery fingers to pull them out of your ass.
Loki’s cock throbbed again, almost violently this time. He moaned softly into the open air. The sound was pained, and Loki felt his hand begin to drift towards the string of his pajama bottoms. They were silk, and because Loki had chosen to forgo underwear, the soft material felt like heaven against his swollen erection. Before his fingers could slip inside to where he needed them most, Loki ripped them away in defiance and turned onto his side, tangling the blanket between his legs as he rolled. The pressure of the thick comforter into his crotch made Loki suck in a surprised breath. His hips twitched upward of their own accord and Loki’s eyes fluttered in pleasure.
Loki could feel his will dissolving with every jolt of pleasure that swam up his spin. His mind spun with images of you: you curled up against him, reaching back with your dainty hand to pull him closer to you, encouraging him to grind against your backside. As if he was in a daze, Loki grabbed one of the many pillows adorning his bed and shoved it between his legs. The firmness of the pillow was so much more satisfying than the blanket, and Loki groaned.
It was over, he had accepted defeat. Loki was about to hump his pillow like an animal and it was all your fault. He thought of that wet bikini sticking to your skin, your breasts bouncing as you jogged back up the beach to him and breathed out a “what’s up” like he wasn’t about to cum in his swim trunks just from watching you. As the memories danced through his head, Loki’s hips began to roll in more deliberate motions. With every thrust, his cock pressed up against the soft material of his pants. Loki could feel the pre-cum wetting the silk, but it only served to amplify his pleasure as the damp fabric clung to his skin.
The buzzing of his phone startled Loki out of his fantasies, and he nearly wanted to throw the thing against the wall. Tony would get him a new one, as he always did no matter how many times that Loki had insisted they were unnecessary devices. As much as he wanted to let it ring, Loki had learned that calls at this hour usually meant an unexpected mission, and he’d be back on house arrest if he didn’t answer. Loki reluctantly leaned over to his bedside table to grab the vibrating object, keeping the pillow between his legs. His heart came to a near stop as he saw your name illuminated on the screen.
A few moments passed as Loki stared dry-mouthed at the caller ID, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Because the only explanation for you calling him in the middle of the night was that he was dreaming. Sure, you had texted him the occasional internet video that you thought he’d enjoy, but had never called him. And certainly not at five in the morning. With a hard swallow, Loki hit the “accept call” button and waited.
“Hey, Loki?” Came your tired-sounding voice. It wasn’t as gorgeous when muffled by the phone static, but it gave Loki shivers nonetheless.
“What is this about?” Loki tried to sound as irritated as possible, figuring that would be the proper reaction to receiving a call this early. The truth was that he was elated to hear your voice, and was disgusted by himself. A mortal, making him this weak in the knees, it was absolutely pathetic.
You were silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sleep. I-I’m not really sure why I called you, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll just--”
“Wait!” Loki burst out before you could end the call. His loud voice echoed back at him in the silent room and he cringed, hoping that no one had heard him. Loki bit his lip anxiously, uncertain of what to say to keep you on the line. “Um, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”
“Oh, I guess that’s good. Well, not really good that you can’t sleep, I mean good that I didn’t wake you.”
Loki chuckled at your awkward ramblings. Norns, you were so cute. “Don’t worry, pet, I know what you meant.” As the words left his lips, Loki’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just called you. Pet. It had been a slip of the tongue, but it brought forth a whole new round of fantasies. He couldn’t help but imagine about what it would be like to own you, to grab you by your pretty face and push his cock between your lips over and over. Absent-mindedly, Loki began to move his hips against the pillow again. He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from gasping. As quietly as he could manage, he put the call on speaker and set the phone down beside him so he could lie back on his side and resume his earlier activities. Loki knew it was so, so wrong to do this while you were none-the-wiser, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so worked up for so long and now it was like his body had taken over, hell bent on getting the relief it needed.
“So, why couldn’t you sleep?”
“Oh, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose,” Loki said as his eyes fell shut. His voice was the slightest bit strained, the soft drag of his pants against his cock making it hard to focus.
“Yeah, same here.” You sighed into the phone, and Loki heard a bit of rustling as you presumably got more comfortable. “I have trouble sleeping a lot, actually. I guess I just get lonely.”
A heavy weight of guilt sank into Loki’s chest. Here you were, opening yourself up to him, and he was trying to get off to the sound of your voice. He was truly depraved, that was for sure. But fuck, the tired rasp to your voice and the small sighs you let out were sending him sky high. His mind was running wild with fantasies of you under him, you in his lap, you up against the wall as he fucked you into it. Loki fought to sound normal as he responded to you. “I understand. Most beings are very social creatures, we need company to--ah!” A particularly rough thrust of his hips had caught Loki off guard as the mind-numbing pleasure rocketed through his body.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, pet,” Loki said, panting as he forced his hips to still. “Just stretching.” It was a lame excuse, but Loki was too far gone to come up with anything better. His body quaked as he tried to keep still, like his own muscles were attempting to disobey his brain. Everything in him was screaming out for more. Cum, you need to cum. Once again, Loki was forced to give in as his hips resumed their grinding. The pillow itself was now damp with how much he was leaking, and it felt amazing.
The phone was quiet, and Loki could almost hear how hard you were thinking on the other end. And then: “Loki, are you...masturbating?” Your voice trailed off as you said that word. The sheer embarrassment was evident in your tone, and Loki was almost astounded at how bold you were. Not many humans had the nerve to just up and ask something like that.
Even through the shock of being caught, Loki could not find it in him to be surprised that you had caught on. You had always come across as intelligent to him, it was foolish to think he could fool you with a half-hearted excuse. Still, it was beyond humiliating to have been called out so brazenly. Loki saw no point in denying it; you would not have asked if you weren't sure. “Yes,” he replied, voice cracking as he froze in place for the second time. Despite the embarrassment, Loki’s erection did not not falter. In fact, it seemed that he only got harder. This mortal would be the death of him.
“O-oh!” You seemed surprised, like you hadn’t expected him to come right out with it. “I’m so sorry, I guess I interrupted you, huh? Shit, I’m sorry.” How absurd. Loki was the one shamelessly rubbing himself against a pillow while talking to you, and you were the one apologizing.
Loki found it intriguing that you hadn’t hung up immediately upon learning of his actions. You hadn’t seemed disgusted at all, just apologetic for interrupting his activities. Loki wasn’t sure if your lack of repulsion was what caused it, or if it was simply his need clouding his judgement, but his mouth began to move before he could stop it. “It’s excellent for sleep. I highly recommend it for nights like these.”
There was no sugar coating it; that was a proposition, no matter how poorly disguised it was as simple advice. “Um,” came your faint reply. Loki’s face burned as he pictured the look of horror you were probably wearing at the moment. And then he nearly swallowed his tongue as you spoke again. “Yeah, I tried earlier. Wasn’t really...working.”
A new gush of blood found its way into Loki’s cock at your admission. He couldn’t help but imagine you writhing on your bed, soaked in sweat and your own slick as you tried desperately to get to that crescendo of pleasure. His blush had somehow grown even stronger, and he couldn’t recall the last time he had even blushed at all. This mortal was killing him, you were his executioner and he was begging for you to pull the trigger.
“That’s quite unfortunate,” Loki managed through his reverie. He was still frozen, almost scared to begin his motions again for fear of cumming on the spot. His cock twitched in time with his racing heart, occasionally dripping precum into his pants. Loki was a mess, but he could not bring himself to care in the slightest. All that mattered was the arousal screaming under his skin and your intoxicating voice in his ears.
“Yeah. Sorry, should I go? And let you, y’know, finish?”
Loki racked his brain for an excuse to get you to stay. It was maddening, how quickly you had ruined him. Seduction was one of his many talents, as was manipulation. In the past, he would have had no trouble at all talking someone into his bed and onto his cock, but you were different. Every flirtation died on his lips the moment he was in your presence, and it was all he could do to form complete sentences as you turned his knees to jelly.
After an excruciating period of silence as Loki thought, he finally spoke. “It would be unfair of me to abandon you in favor of pleasuring myself when you cannot do the same.”
This time it was your turn to stay quiet. Loki waited anxiously, half-expecting you to just leave anyway. He had already come to terms with your disinterest in him, you were probably just being polite. But...you had called him. There must have been at least a slight attraction for Loki to have been on your mind after attempting to get yourself off.
“Maybe we could…” There was a tremble to your voice as you trailed off, and Loki held his breath as he waited for you to finish. Whatever your suggestion ended up being, he was ready to enthusiastically agree. Anything that involved you and pleasure was incredibly enticing. “Maybe we don’t have to hang up, then.”
Loki’s eyes went wide. Did you mean…? An involuntary moan fell from his lips as he shivered at the thought. “I would, mm, not be opposed to that idea.” Loki’s body had won over for the final time that night and his hips began to move again. After restraining himself for so long, feeling that delicious friction once again nearly overwhelmed him.
“I don’t really know how to do this,” you said. “I can’t really believe I actually asked you that.”
“Would you like instruction, pet?”
“That might help, yeah.”
Loki began to wonder if he was dead, and this was his version of Valhalla. Whatever the case, he was going to ride this high for as long as he could. Everything else seemed to fade into the distance: the chirping of birds outside as the sun rose, the hum of the traffic down below, all of it meant nothing. It meant nothing because you were on the other side of the phone asking for Loki to tell you how to touch yourself. Loki took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself; he needed to let you catch up before he could allow himself to lose control.
“I want you to get undressed, and get comfortable.” That was a simple enough command, Loki figured. If he started slow, maybe he could reign in his pathetic neediness and focus solely on your pleasure.
“Okay, I can do that.” The speaker went quiet as you presumably settled onto your bed and slipped out of your pajamas. “Now what?”
“Touch your breasts,” Loki said. His breathing was heavy, but even as he settled into the role of your instructor. “Rub your fingers across them, tell me how it feels.”
You sighed happily. “It feels really nice. Can you tell me what you’re doing?”
Loki was a bit ashamed to admit that he was currently grinding into a pillow, but figured there was no point in lying. “I’m, uh, I have a pillow between my legs, and I’m rubbing against it.”
A whimper burst from your lips. “Oh, that’s so hot.”
“Is it?” Loki asked hesitantly. He didn’t feel very attractive; slick trousers and sweat coated skin, fighting hard to hold it together.
“Yeah, fuck. Can I touch myself, please?”
Loki wanted to drag it out a bit longer, to tease you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no to that pretty voice. Especially when you asked so nicely. “Go ahead, pet. You’re such a good girl.”
There was a faint slick sound, then a drawn out moan. Loki groaned in response, the sound extracting a full body shiver from the god. He had never heard such alluring sounds of pleasure, you were just so far above any other being he had ever met. “That’s it,” he murmured in encouragement.
“Feels so good,” you said, voice growing high pitched. “Shit, I’m not gonna last too long. Ah, fuck. Been needing this all night.”
Loki sucked in a breath and began to thrust with more fervor. His eyes nearly rolled back at the pressure and his thighs squeezed around the pillow. “That’s okay, darling. I, oh--” Loki cut himself off with a strangled moan as his pleasure mounted. “I need to cum, too.”
For a moment, panting and whimpered moans were the only thing coming through the speaker. Loki prayed that you were as close as he was, because the coil tightening in his stomach threatened to snap at any moment. It was all he could do to keep from allowing his release to overtake him before you got yours. “Please, pet. I want to hear you cum,” he ground out as his eyes fell shut.
“So close,” you whined. “Loki, I’m gonna cum.”
He couldn’t help it. Loki’s control disintegrated as he began rutting into the pillow like a wild animal. His hips moved in sharp, quick thrusts, and quiet moans left his lips with every movement. ‘Cum--fuck, mm--cum for me, love.” He was going to cum, he couldn’t stop. He just needed you to finish first.
The phone crackled as you let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Loki listened in a trance, trying to memorize every noise that left your lips as you climaxed. Your sounds spurred him on, and he found himself tipping over the edge, cumming harder than he had in a long time. Pleasure whited out his vision, and Loki could faintly hear himself whining your name in a broken voice. He didn’t get the chance to be embarrassed about the noise; his cock pulsed in dizzying waves of euphoria, spurting out rope after rope of hot cum. It shot into his pants, soaking them all the way through and seeping into the pillow. It wasn’t until the last drop had left his body that he was finally able to stop the groans that had been bubbling up from his throat.
As the pleasure subsided, Loki sagged against the bed and took in the mess he had made. His pants were ruined, no doubt about that. And the pillow? Well, it would most likely need a few good washes. But he felt sated, too relaxed to even care about the cum drying to his thighs.
“Are you still there?”
Fuck, he had almost forgotten that you were still on the phone. “Yes,” he croaked out. “That was…”
“Amazing,” you finished for him. Though you couldn’t see him, Loki nodded in agreement.
The bed suddenly felt very large and very empty after the daze of Loki’s orgasm faded. He found himself wishing that you were here, so he could wrap his arms around that perfect waist and bury his nose in your hair. It was an incredibly foreign feeling; Loki had never been one to cuddle after sex. But then again, everything about you was different. You were special. Loki opened his mouth, ready to invite you to his room, but something stopped him. What if this had been just a spur of the moment thing for you? What if you only saw him as a tool to get yourself off?
“Would it be weird if I came down there?” You asked, startling Loki out of his thoughts. There you went again, calming his anxieties before he even had the chance to feel them.
A relieved grin broke out on his face, and his heart sped up again in excitement. “No, I would very much enjoy that.” And for the first time in a very long time, Loki felt wanted.
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atozfic · 3 years
Text
lessons in law.
⎘ pairing: fem!reader x choi san.
⎘ genre: dilf!san, lawyer!san, tutor!san, law-student!reader, smut, all parties are of legal age!!
⎘ warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, light name calling, mentions of punishment, san is a simp in denial.
⎘ description: sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with an oral exam.
⎘ word count: 1.6k
⎘ author’s note: this was supposed to be a less-than-500-words timestamp. 🧍‍♂️
⎘ taglist: @yunhobabygurl, @eonghwa, @iusrene, @nari-nim, @couchpotatoaniki, @vanishingboots, @yoheyyosup, @spacepiratehongjoong, @rainteez02​ unable to tag: @harry-the-pottypus
masterlist.
navigation.
© atozfic, 2021.
“for a d-defamation lawsuit to turn out success- fuck!” from the moment your resolve slips, you regret it, almost going as far as to complain verbally, if you didn’t already know better.
talking back will only get you punished, and not in the way of whips and chains and all things spice, but in the way of being left high and dry, pussy wet and unfilled. 
cold air brushes up against your sensitive folds as the man beneath your desk pulls away from your sopping core. you glance down in time to catch the way he swipes his tongue over his lips, collecting the juices you’ve covered him in, in as little as the three minutes he’s been down there.
he’s looking at you with one eyebrow raised, expectantly, awaiting you to correct the error of your ways.
“did i tell you to stop reading, princess?” his voice, the way the gruff in it curls over his words and his beautiful lips move as he speaks, sends a fresh rush of arousal down your nerves.
“no, mr. choi.”
“and what did you do?” 
“stop-” you start, only to do the very thing you said when you jolt in your seat, moments after he’d blown air onto your pulsating heat, torturing you with the minimum amount of pressure against your clit. it takes a deep, calming breath on your end to centre yourself again. “i stopped reading.”
“tsk.” his response worries you. so vague, you’re yet to figure out if he’s going to even bother continuing with the pleasure he was giving you. as if sensing your unsure nature, the drag of his pointer finger over your soaked entrance becomes his answer to the unasked question. “how am i supposed to know you’re studying the notes i gave you if you do that, hmm? do it again and we’ll have to cut the tutoring lesson short today.”
he could have whispered the words and you still would have heard him loud and clear. your eyes reluctantly snap back to the textbook instead of staring down at the sight of him between your legs, hair perfectly slicked back and begging to be messed up, tie undone and hanging from his neck, shirt sleeves rolled up his arms and straining against the muscles of his forearms.
“the act of defamation occurs when someone makes a false and harmful statement...” you begin reciting the words again, after you’d cleared your throat.
as san’s face lowers back onto your aching cunt, you remind yourself over and over to read, just read. that’s all he wants you to do and, in exchange, he’ll take you to heaven with his tongue. but oh, it is so much easier said than done. your hands soon find a grip on the edge of the desk, a place to root yourself down while his tongue drags over you lazily.
“there’s two different types of defamation-” his tongue teases at your hole and you want to beg him, scream at him to shove it- or any other part of him- into your cunt, walls clenching around nothing but your own wetness, causing it to ooze out onto your tutor’s waiting tongue. “libel is the name given to any defamatory words that are written...”
“my princess has the prettiest pussy.” a hand snakes it’s way up your leg, wrapping a tight grip around your thigh before he props it onto his shoulder. when his tongue finally breeches your walls again, it’s at a whole new angle than earlier, and that alone has you wishing you could throw the textbook off your desk only for you to bend over it while mr. choi takes you from behind.
“slander is spoken defamation, and often more trickier to prove in court...” instead, you keep reading so that he’ll keep eating.
“what would your dad say if he knew this is what you use our tutoring sessions for, huh?” san continues to taunt you between licks of your cunt, switching his focus between your hole and your clit. he’s trying to get you to disobey him. “if he knew his dear friend who he asked to help his pretty little daughter get accepted into his law firm has actually been teaching her how to take a proper cock? oh, and just imagine his face if he knew that i fucked you under his very own roof.”
“d- defamation cases are often costly and are a long procedure...” you can’t help it when, instinctually, your hand flies down to tangle itself in his perfectly done hair. instead of pushing you away like you’d thought he would have, san only closes his eyes and let’s out a moan as you tug his hair, face nestling itself deeper between your legs and causing his nose to bump against your clit.
“you have no idea how much i think about you, baby.” his free hand lands on your heat, cupping it as he pulls back to stare up at you. “got me wishing i could have you every hour of the day. that you were mine alone to touch, and fuck, and kiss.”
“w-what would-” you become brave suddenly, spurred on by the moment of vulnerability from the man between your legs, looking so much more at your mercy than ever before, like he’s begging to worship the only goddess he’ll ever know. “your son, or your ex-wife, say if they knew you were doing this, hmm? that you took on an apprentice only to corrupt her?”
“you were corrupted long before i got my hands on you, y/n.” he smirks up at you, only to chuckle when he thrusts a finger into your cunt, no warning, and you gasp, tugging on his hair again. “the only thing i’ve done is show you how good sex can be when you’re doing it with someone experienced instead of some sweaty frat-boy who finishes in two minutes and doesn’t even know where your clit is.”
“you’d be surprised, some of them are better than you give them credit.” you’re lying, without an ounce of shame about it. and it’s more than worth it to see the way his eyes darken, his eyebrows frown, his hand picks up the speed that his finger thrusts into you.
no warning comes when he inserts a second finger. 
“really? can they make you beg for their cock like a bitch in heat?” he doesn’t bother to stall any longer, head diving back down between your legs to shut you up.
his mouth latches onto your clit, rolling it between his lips and prodding at it with his tongue while he continues to fuck you with his hand. a third finger enters you and you throw your head back, body curling off the leather of your desk chair while you tighten your grip on san’s hair.
“mr. choi, please.” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for.
“yeah, just like that. a little slut begging to be fucked full, that’s all you are, right? and no one knows how to give you what you want but me.” every whine, moan of your voice, every time your walls tighten around his digits, it strokes his ego and keeps him giving you more, more, more.
when the coil in your body is so close to finally snapping, he rips his hand from you. it’s a moment of devastation only, until you feel his hand, soaked in you, clasping around your other thigh and dragging it over his shoulder too. then his tongue is back in you, drinking in every bit of essence your quivering hole offers him.
when you cum, it’s with your body more sat on him than the actual chair, hands on your ass and holding you against his face as his tongue continues to work you through the electrifying feeling, nose bumping over your clit every so often. while your jaw is slacked open in a silent scream, san makes no attempt to hold back the moans and grunts ripping through his chest.
“shh, shh, i’ve got you.” he coos when he rises from under your desk, lowering your still quivering body back down onto your chair. you have half the mind to wonder if he’s a completely different man to the one who’d been buried between your thighs minutes ago, as he brings up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. instead of a smirk or a scowl, he wears a smile, even when you feel his fingers dip back between your swollen folds.
“mr. choi, i need a break first-”
“shh, it’s okay.” and you believe him, as he retracts his hand and brings it up to your mouth, commanding you to open it. your eyes flutter shut as your mouth wraps around his fingers, tasting yourself all over them. “so pretty, aren’t you?”
you can only nod, so relieved he gave you what you wanted even though you’d stopped reading. you’re unsure how long he lets you sit there with his fingers in your mouth but him removing them brings you back into the room instantly. coating your cheek in your own spit-mixed cum as he cups it, he leans down to place a kiss on your neck.
“i need to go make a quick call but, when i come back, i expect you to be naked on your bed, ass up and face down.” this time it really is nothing but a whisper, yet you hear him loud and clear.
“why?” it seems like a silly questions to ask, when you already know exactly why he wants you in that position.
“you didn’t think i was really going to let you get away with talking back to me, did you?”
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beespeaks · 3 years
Text
Just in case...
Stu Macher X Reader 
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Stu gets nervous before his party and decides to come see you in case anything goes wrong...
Aged up characters in college/uni
Tags: Swearing, mentions of murder, character death, basic Scream plot with added character and it’s in college though that’s not mentioned, Making out, angst
Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, major character death
——————————————————————————
You were laying in bed, book in hand, trying to process the day. Casey Becker and Steve Orth had been murdered the night before, and if you were being honest, that scared you. From what everyone had said at school and what you had heard on the news, it had been a pretty violent death too. You didn’t understand who could ever do something like that and why? What could have possibly possessed someone to do that? It wasn’t right. 
You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the book in your hands but you couldn’t shake the fear swirling in your belly. You were home alone and that just made it worse. You usually craved the nights your parents would go away and leave you alone, but tonight you wished there was someone else here with you. 
Stu was having a party tonight, and he pointedly didn’t invite you which just made you feel worse. In fact, he went out of his way to uninvite you and tell you not to come. You weren’t sure why he didn’t want you there or what you had done to upset him, but you pretended you didn’t care, laughing it off like it was no big deal. You hated parties anyway. 
A tapping on your bedroom window pulls you away from your thoughts and the neglected book in your hands. There was silence for a second as panic mounted in your gut and then you saw another flash against the window. Someone was throwing something at your window. The only person who ever did that was Stu. You hoped. 
Shakily, you padded across the floor to the window and peaked out into the night. It was hard to make out anything much but when you saw another flash against the glass, you knew it was Stu. This flash was green. He was throwing Skittles again. When you had asked him why, he said they were more fun than pebbles.
You sigh and slide the cool glass up the frame and peer out just as a red Skittle goes flying past your head into your bedroom. 
“Fuck!” Stu curses. “Sorry!” He stands on the pavement outside, a sheepish look on his face. He’s hunched in on himself, almost like he’s cold. 
“Can I come in?” He calls, his voice sounds strange and yet it still comforts you just like it always has. You shut the window and run down to let him in, trudging back up the stairs before he even gets in the door and refusing to look at him. Just because you hadn’t planned on going to that party, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that he didn’t want you there. 
Your bedroom is cold when you return and it feels smaller with Stu leaning against the doorframe behind you. 
“Y/N.” Stu starts and you turn around to look at him. He looks conflicted and small somehow, even considering his tall frame. Something is definitely bothering him and you want to ask what it is. You don’t though, something tells you that you don’t want to know. 
“Why wasn't I invited to your party?” You ask instead, you decide you can ask him about it tomorrow. Stu looks surprised by your question, it probably hadn’t occurred to him that it would bother you. Part of you thinks that’s sweet. 
“You don't want to come. Trust me.” Something dark laces his words but you brush it off, choosing instead to let his words irritate you. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him. 
“How do you know? I might have wanted to.” Stu smiles slightly but his eyes still won’t meet yours, he keeps them trained on his shoes. 
“It sucks. You would hate it.” He murmurs and you scoff. 
“So, that’s why you’re here then, your party sucked so you thought you’d come and annoy me. How did you know I wouldn't have plans? I could have gone out tonight despite the curfew.” You almost yell. Stu is one of your best friends and there is defiantly something more there, but he always treated you like a second choice. A backup plan. He was always off with Tatum - his actual girlfriend, or Billy Loomis. The only times he ever had time for you was when no one else was around. You were sick of being a secret. 
Stu sighs at your outburst and pinches the bridge of his nose. 
“I’m glad you were home.” He whispers. It’s quiet, you almost miss it but it changes something. All the anger and hurt you had been holding onto vanishes and you finally take a proper look at the blonde boy in front of you. 
The usual loud, goofy idiot is quiet and he looks like he might break any second. He’s standing as close to the doorframe as he can, like he needs to it to hold himself up. His eyes are on anything but you and even from here you can see his breathing is uneven. 
“Stu? What’s wrong?” Taking steps towards him, you reach your hand out and touch his shoulder. He flinches slightly before leaning into your touch. “Stu, look at me.” You keep your voice low and soft, like you're talking to a frightened animal. Shaking his head a few times he turns his head slowly to you. His blue eyes are scared and sad and something else that breaks your heart. Now that he’s finally looking at you, his resolve starts to crumble. You were always the one thing that could break down his defenses. You were the one person he never had to pretend with. You were his safe place. 
“I’m scared, Y/N.” His voice breaks and then he’s crying, almost hysterically. Deep, laboured breathes and attempts to stop. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug as fast as you can, wanting to make him feel even a little better as soon as you can. 
His arms wrap around you instantly, his face buried in your neck as he sobs. He’s shaking and digging his nails into your back but you don’t care. You have no idea what it is that could have him this upset. Stu has always been sensitive and he’ll cry at any sad movie the two of you watch, but even you’ve never seen him like this. 
“It’s okay, Stu. It’s okay.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his temple. He doesn’t tell you, but this is all he needed. All he ever needed. 
He does whisper something into the crook of your neck though. You don’t catch what it is until he pulls himself away from you to look into your eyes. He swears your eyes are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His own eyes are still red and filled with tears. 
“I love you.” He whispers and you gasp softly. If he had told you this any when else, you would have called bullshit and told him there were easier ways for him to get laid than fucking with your emotions. But the look in his eyes and the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, you can’t believe it’s a lie. You also can’t lie to him. 
“I love you, too.” 
His lips are on you before the words are even fully out of your mouth. A passionate, heated kiss filled with unspoken words and over a year of holding yourselves back. Your hands grip in his hair and his knead at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. You cling to each other like you don’t need anything in the world as much as you need this, like he’s the oxygen you’ve been craving, like you’re the rain after the longest drought. 
The two of you move backwards and fall down onto the bed, never letting go of each other. He’s on top of you now and his lips are traveling to your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses and whispers of ‘I love you’ over and over again. You whisper it back every time. Even if you don’t know why he’s falling apart, you know that’s what he needs to hear to keep him together. 
Just as his lips are back on yours, softer and slower now but still as passionate as before, you hear a ringing. Stu pulls back and curses as he pulls a cellular telephone from his back pocket. He looks defeated and scared again. 
He doesn't answer the phone, just switches it off and slips it in his back pocket with a sigh. You don’t know why, but you know he’s about to leave. Maybe it was Tatum. She is his girlfriend after all. The reminder pangs in your chest. 
Stu’s blue eyes meet yours and you can’t find it in you to ask about Tatum or push him away like you should when he kisses you again. Softly and sadly. A kiss full of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ and something that feels like goodbye. 
He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours and just breathe in your familiar, comforting scent for a moment longer. 
“I love you.” He whispers before getting up and leaving the room. He doesn’t look back.
When the phone rings in the middle of the night and your friend Randy recalls the events of Stu’s party, you collapse onto the floor as everything clicks into place in ways you really wish it wouldn’t. It felt like goodbye, because it was. 
Stu Macher was dead and you were always going to think about the fact that you saw him last. You could have stopped him, if you had just asked him one more time if he was okay. Just one more time and he might have told you what was happening. One more time and he might still be here.
At least now you knew why you weren’t invited to  his party.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
What's It To You?
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.
Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰
The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in  matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.
I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.
I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock. 
“Come in.“ 
Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.
“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me
“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“
He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”
I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.
Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”
Oh shit, he wasn’t muted
“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.
Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.
“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“
By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.
I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”
My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard. 
I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.
I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.
I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.
I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me. 
                                                             * * *
Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs. 
“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“
“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.
In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.
I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”
The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend. 
“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.
“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.
“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“
In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”
My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase. 
“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”
I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”
                                                             * * *
Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.
My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.
“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.
@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post 
Wait what?
I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.
We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you. 
PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤
I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body. 
Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.
“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.
One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.
“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“
“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“
I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.
“Did you like it?“ 
“I loved it.“
“Did you read the comments?“
My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.
I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”
I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans. 
“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.
“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.
Damn, he might be right about the duels.
He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.
Nevermind. Fuck the duels
@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze
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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years
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Figuring it Out Together - Fred Weasley
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Title: Figuring it Out Together Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Male receiving oral, female receiving oral, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, some dom/sub elements but nothing too intense, begging, semi-public sex Summary: landing in detention with the person she hates most is the last thing Y/N ever wants to do. But of course, with Fred Weasley around nothing ever seems to work out the way Y/N thinks it will. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted an enemies to lovers smut with Fred! The summary is shit but what else is new lol. Thank you so much to @fandomscombine​ and the two anons who helped me develop this idea!! Requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! I’ve started a tag list, so send me a message or ask if you’d like to be added! Tags: @pandaxnienke​
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“Oi, Weasley! Get your ass back here!” Y/N shouts, chasing behind Fred as he heads towards the Gryffindor locker room with his brother. Fred and George stop in the tracks and turn around at the same time, the exact same cheeky smile on their mouths.
“Y/N!” George greets as she approaches.
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Fred asks.
“You!” Y/N growls, pointing at Fred.
As Y/N comes to stand in front of them they both can’t help but notice how angry she is. Her face is flushed red and her eyes are dark and narrowed. Thankful that her anger seems to be directed at Fred, George gives his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning around and following the rest of the team into the locker room.
“Me?” Fred teases, pointing to himself. “I’ve done something to rile up Miss prim and proper Y/N? Give me a moment, I need to bask in the glory.” Fred closes his eyes, tilts his head back and opens his arms as if the heavens have opened up and sunlight is gleaming down on him.
All this does is infuriate Y/N further, and when she finally gets close enough she shoves Fred as hard as she can. He doesn’t really move much, but it shocks him, and that’s enough for her. “What’s your problem you fucking prick? Why did you do that?”
“You’re going to have to elaborate, darling,” Fred responds casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a lot of things I’ve done in my life to classify me as a prick, so I’m going to need more details.”
“You broke his arm,” Y/N clarifies, gesturing towards the Quidditch pitch.
Fred rolls his eyes. “Your brother has suffered far worse injuries during a game, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey will have him fixed up in no time. No need for all the dramatics.”
Fred’s casual attitude does nothing but make Y/N angrier, and she shoves him again. “Most of them due to you no doubt! You knew how important this game was and yet you still had to go out of your way to be a complete asshat!”
Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have just finished a grueling match, and Fred spent most of it hitting bludgers at Y/N’s older brother Matthew like they were the only two people on the pitch. While Y/N normally would be loving the opportunity to rub in her house’s win, Y/N had been praying for Ravenclaw to win this particular match. It’s been Matthew’s dream to be a professional Quidditch player since he was a little kid, and this match was his opportunity to make that a reality. Scouts from a few different professional teams were in attendance, and the Ravenclaw team has spent weeks fitting in extra practices to give them the upper advantage on Gryffindor.
Even Y/N was positive that they would take the win, until Fred made it his personal agenda to ensure Matthew never scored a goal. Y/N’s brother had spent most of the game whizzing around the field avoiding Fred, and he failed to score a single goal. And the icing on the cake was that 20 minutes before Harry caught the snitch Fred hit a bludger so hard that Matthew couldn’t avoid it, and it came into direct contact with his arm – shattering quite a few of the bones in it.
Fred huffs. “What did you want me to do? Throw the game so your stupid brother could show off to all of those recruiters? Me hitting bludgers at him so he doesn’t score is kinda the whole point of the game, Y/N.”
“Don’t try and act like I’m the one in the wrong here, Fred!” Y/N shouts, gathering the attention of some of the students heading back towards the castle. “You were focusing a bit too hard on Matthew and you know it! There was six other Ravenclaw players on the pitch, did you think about trying to hit some bludgers towards them?”
“Oh fuck off, Y/N,” Fred spits, returning her anger. “It’s a fucking game, get over it. Why do you always have to be such a bitch? You suck the fun out of everything.”
Y/N is seething with anger, and just as she starts to pull her hand back to slap Fred across the face, Professor McGonagall is stepping in between them.
“What on God’s green earth do you two think you’re doing?” McGonagall asks, looking between the two of them. “Mr. Weasley, Ms. Y/L/N. Detention, all next week and I’ll have 50 points from each of you. Now I suggest you two go find something else to do before I make it a month.”
Y/N flips Fred off as McGonagall walks away before she’s turning on her heel and stomping back up to the castle.
-
“Will you sit down, your pacing is making me dizzy,” Matthew groans, putting his head in his hand.
“Sorry,” Y/N apologizes, giving her brother a sheepish smile. She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, trying not to jostle Matthew too much. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal his arm quickly, but some of the potions she’d given him left him quite dizzy, so he’s still resting in the Hospital Wing.
“Fred is a prick, Y/N. You didn’t have to confront him,” Matthew says, looking up at Y/N. “Although I really wish you would have slapped him.”
“If McGonagall had only showed up a few seconds later,” Y/N laughs. “I’ve never had the urge to hit someone before but there’s just something about his stupid face that makes me so mad. You’ve been working so hard for this match and then he called me a bitch,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t feel bad, and besides, this is a moment we should be celebrating.” When Y/N gives Matthew a confused look he laughs. “Your first detention! I’m so proud of you,” he says wistfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.
“Oh shove it,” Y/N says with a giggle. “I’m going to be stuck in a room every night for the next week with Fred doing whatever McGonagall wants, sounds lovely,” she adds sarcastically with an eyeroll.
“To be fair most girls would kill to be in your position,” Matthew points out with a laugh. “Locked in a room for hours on end with Fred Weasley. That’s like a girl’s wet dream come to life.” When Y/N grimaces at the thought Matthew gives her a look. “Every girl except for you apparently. Why do you even hate Fred so much?”
Y/N gives Matthew a look of surprise. “You can’t be serious?” When Matthew continues to look at her dumbfounded she scoffs. “You were at this school for two years before I was and all I heard when you were home on break was how much of an annoying prat Fred is. I mean I tried not to hate Fred just because you did when I got sorted into Gryffindor and he was pretty okay at first. But one day he just started being a dick to me and I realized you were right.”
“Probably because you’re my sister. I’m always on his case about pulling pranks or messing around in class, he probably figured you’d be the same way,” Matthew reasons.
Y/N shrugs. “Well he’s a bag of dicks anyway, so I’m not too bothered by it.”
-
Monday evening comes far too quickly for Y/N’s liking, and after dinner she trots off to the trophy room, Fred begrudgingly following behind. McGonagall is already waiting for them, and she directs them to sit on the couch in front of her. Y/N takes a seat and practically hugs the arm rest so she’s sitting as far away from Fred as possible.
“The behavior you two exhibited on Saturday was unacceptable and downright barbaric,” McGonagall scolds, her tone sharp. “You’ll be spending the week making sure every one of the trophies in this room shines like it’s brand new.” Y/N looks around at the vast amount of trophies in the room as McGonagall hands them each a rag. “This should give you plenty of time to not only think about your actions, but to resolve whatever animosity exists between the two of you.” She gives them each a stern look before heading towards the door. “I’ll be back to check on you both.”
Y/N groans as McGonagall shuts the door behind her and she hoists herself off of the couch towards the mantle, needing to put some space between her and Fred. McGonagall may want them to sort out their issues, but Y/N wants nothing to do with Fred, and she still has some lingering anger from their fight on Saturday so she’s sure all it would do is end in another detention. Y/N grabs a random trophy and starts scrubbing at it, keeping her back towards Fred.
“This is such bullshit,” Fred mutters to himself after a few minutes of working in silence. Y/N can feel his glare and her shoulders tense up, but she doesn’t say anything or turn around. “This is all your fault you know,” Fred continues a few moments later when Y/N continues to ignore him.
Y/N places the trophy she’d been working on back and picks up another one, determined not to give Fred a reaction. Clearly he’s trying to instigate her into getting into more trouble and while Fred may be used to serving detention Y/N plans on making this week her one and only stint. Y/N finally relaxes after a few minutes of silence, when Fred starts to hum some random song rather loudly and out of tune.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Y/N mutters to herself as she starts to work on another trophy. “Shut up!” Y/N demands, slamming the trophy she’d been working on down. As much as she wants to just ignore Fred, she also wants to keep her sanity.
“No,” Fred responds dully before he continues humming.
Y/N turns around to glare at Fred, and the sweet smile on his face only annoys her further. “Can you not be an asshole? For like, once in your life. Let’s just get through this week and then we can continue to hate each other from afar.”
Fred places the plaque he’d been working on down and leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms. “Why should I make this easy on you? You’re the one that got me into this mess.”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. You totally didn’t shout back at me or call me any names. You just stood there and let me yell at you,” Y/N responds with an eyeroll.
Fred narrows his eyes. “You started it,” he fires back. “I was on my way back to the locker room when you ran up to me and started shouting. And don’t forget you shoved me a few times. I only shouted back because I was tired of listening to your stupid voice.”
“Oh please, you barely moved when I shoved you. You’re acting like I broke your arm or something. Oh wait, that was you,” Y/N reminds him harshly. “You broke my brother’s arm during the most important Quidditch game of his life!”
Fred stands up and takes a step towards Y/N, his fists clenched. “You’re still on that? It’s a game Y/N! I wasn’t trying to break his arm, it just happened! You’re being such a fucking cry baby over nothing!”
“I’m not being a cry baby!” Y/N insist, taking a step towards Fred.
“Oh you’re right my mistake,” Fred spits. “You’re being a fucking bitch!”
Y/N brings her hand out to slap Fred, but his hand wraps around her wrist tightly. Before she has a chance to try and struggle against his grip Fred is pulling Y/N into his chest and kissing her hard. Y/N kisses him back with enthusiasm and moans into Fred’s mouth as his hands land on her bum and give it a tight squeeze.
“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” Fred growls as he starts to bite and suck at Y/N’s neck. “You’re annoying as hell too,” he reminds as his hands shove up her shirt. “But so fucking hot.”
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Y/N demands, bringing their lips together again. Fred may be an annoying git, but even Y/N has to admit that he’s attractive and being with Fred will definitely make detention more interesting. “You have too many clothes on,” Y/N pants as they break apart, her hands starting to loosen Fred’s tie.
“I could say the same to you, princess,” Fred says, smirking when a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. Normally the nickname would make her blood boil, but in this context it makes her pussy throb.
Y/N tosses Fred’s tie away as his fingers start to make quick work of her button down. “Why are these uniforms so fucking hard to take off,” Y/N groans as she starts to work at Fred’s shirt as well.
“That desperate for me already, Y/N?” Fred teases as he pushes her shirt off of her shoulders. He leans down to suck a mark onto the top of her breast as his hands move around her back to unhook her bra.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley,” Y/N chides as she takes Fred’s shirt off. Her bra finally hits the ground, and Y/N lets out a whine as Fred’s mouth starts licking and sucking at her nipples. “You kissed me first, remember.”
“Only because I wanted you to shut the fuck up.” Fred steps back and sits on the couch, pulling Y/N down onto his lap. She straddles his waist and they both moan as she grinds down against him. Fred’s hands start to massage Y/N’s breasts and his thumbs start to roughly rub her nipples, causing her to let out a breathy moan. “That’s right, princess. Keep making those noises for me.”
Y/N bites her lip and rocks down against Fred again, determined to keep every noise that bubbles up her throat down. This seems to only spur Fred on, and his head dips down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud as his other hand continues rubbing the other. “Fuck, Fred,” Y/N moans, unable to keep it in any longer.
“Love the way you moan my name,” Fred praises, rocking his hips up into Y/N. He’s painfully hard in his trousers and he’s desperate for some friction. “Although I think there’s something even better for your mouth to do, princess.”
Y/N is dripping wet in her panties, and she hates to admit that the thought of sucking Fred’s cock sends a tingle right through her core. “Gonna have to ask me for it, Fred,” she teases, sinking to her knees in front of him.
Fred kicks his shoes off as Y/N undoes his belt and starts to work at the button of his trousers. “Look at you, you’re practically drooling,” Fred taunts playfully. “Give it another few seconds and you’ll be begging me to put my cock in your mouth.”
“You sure about that?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred. She pulls his trousers and boxers down to his thighs in one go, and Y/N has to bite her tongue to keep from moaning as his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. Fred exudes big dick energy, and Y/N’s pussy throbs as her hand wraps around him, pleasantly surprised that his size matches his personality.
Fred throws his head back and groans as Y/N starts to slowly stroke him. “Just fucking suck it already,” Fred demands. “You know you want it, slut.”  
“Thought I was your princess?” Y/N teases  as she leans forward, her tongue coming out to kitten lick at his sensitive head.
“Only good girls get to be called princess,” Fred moans, his hand fisting in her hair. “Bad girls who don’t do what I tell them get called slut.” Fred tugs on Y/N’s hair, and he smirks at the moan she lets out. “So you better get sucking if you wanna be my princess.”
Y/N presses her thighs together to try and get some relief on her clit as she decides what to do next. She desperately wants to suck Fred off, but a part of her wants to hold off for a bit and push him to beg her instead. But as Y/N strokes Fred, a bead of precum bubbles up on the tip of his cock, and it makes her mouth water.
“That’s it, princess,” Fred moans as Y/N finally takes him into her mouth and swallows him down. He watches as his length disappears into Y/N’s mouth, his hips twitching as he hits the back of her throat. “Fuck your mouth feels amazing. Gonna have to shove my cock into it every time you get mouthy with me.”
Y/N hums around Fred, her hand starting to work at the part of his cock she can’t fit in her mouth. She pulls her head back so her tongue can twist around the tip, Fred’s moans and pants only encouraging her further. Y/N bobs her head down, gagging as Fred hits the back of her throat. She starts to pull back, but Fred’s hips surge forward, fucking his cock back into her throat and making her gag again.
“Did I say you could fuck my throat?” Y/N scolds as she pulls off. Fred’s hips lift up again to chase her mouth, and she wraps her hand around his cock.
“Sorry princess,” Fred apologizes smugly. “You sound so good gagging around my cock I couldn’t help it.” Fred uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to bring her mouth back towards his crotch. “Just keep sucking, I won’t do it again.”
“I don’t really want to anymore,” Y/N teases. Her thumb swipes over the tip of Fred’s cock with every upstroke, causing his hips to jerk. “Gonna have to beg me for it, Fred.”
Fred groans. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N. Fine don’t suck my cock,” Fred says flatly, trying to bait her into taking him back down her throat. “Your hand feels just as good,” he groans.
Y/N narrows her eyes at Fred and pulls her hand away. “You wanna come from a hand? Then you can get yourself off.” She stands up then and kicks off her shoes before slowly shimmying out of her school skirt and panties. Y/N then lays back on the floor with her feet flat, knees bent and open so Fred can see her dripping core. She props herself up on one elbow and looks Fred dead in the eyes as her other hand starts to wander down to her pussy. “You can use your hand, and I’ll use mine.”
Fred watches in rapt awe as Y/N starts to slowly rub her clit, small moans falling from her lips. His cock twitches and he resists the urge to wrap his hand around himself. “Look how fucking wet you are, princess. All of that, just for me?” Fred bites his lip as Y/N starts to tease her entrance with her finger. “How about you come on my cock instead?”
Y/N whines as she sinks a finger into her heat, her attention completely focused on Fred. She watches as he stands up and gets rid of the rest of his clothes, her pussy throbbing at how wet his cock is still from her saliva. When Fred settles on his knees between her legs, Y/N reluctantly stops her movements on her core and places one hand on Fred’s chest while the other wraps around his cock.
“You wanna fuck me, Fred?” When Fred nods and goes to move forward, Y/N shoves him back. “Gonna have to beg me for it.”
“Stop fucking around, Y/N,” Fred complains. “You’re desperate for my cock and you know it.”
Y/N’s walls clench around nothing and her hips buck as if they’re searching for something to fill her. “Beg me for my pussy, Fred,” Y/N demands. “Beg me, and I’ll let you fuck me.”
“Let me fuck you, princess, please,” he begs. “Wanna ruin you with my cock, stretch that pretty little pussy out.”
Y/N is desperate for release at this point, and Fred begging for her only makes it worse. She immediately lets go of him and grabs his face, pulling him down for a messy kiss. As soon as he’s free to move Fred inches forward and slams into Y/N, both of them moaning as he buries himself in her completely.
“Fucking hell, Fred,” Y/N moans. Fred starts to fuck into her quickly, hitching one of her legs over his shoulder so he can move deeper inside of her. “Oh my fucking god right there,” Y/N pants as his cock starts to drag against her g-spot on each thrust. “You fill me up so good, Fred, fuck. Such a big cock, fucking me so well.” Fred starts to rub her clit, and her walls clench around him.
“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Fred compliments. “Can feel your walls stretching for me, like they were made to take my cock.” Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and he’s rewarded with the hottest moan he’s ever heard. “Bet I’m the biggest you’ve ever taken. Aren’t I, princess?”
“Oh fuck, Fred,” Y/N gasps, her orgasm suddenly hitting her. She can feel her walls tightening and spasming around Fred, and her legs start to shake as pleasure washes over her. “Come inside me Fred please,” Y/N begs as she pulls their mouths together.
Fred’s hips still as he releases inside Y/N, his hips just slowly rolling to help him through his orgasm. He kisses Y/N slow as they both come down and once his cock stops twitching Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and sits back on his shins. They both just sit their basking in the pleasure that’s still coursing through their veins, when footsteps start to approach the door.
“Shit, shit, fucking shit, that must be McGonagall,” Y/N panics, scrambling to find her clothes.
Fred grabs his wand and casts a spell at the door to keep it from opening. “Quick, get dressed. That’ll only stop her for a few minutes.”
They both get dressed hurriedly, and Y/N has just barely grabbed her rag and started to scrub at a random trophy when the door bursts open.
“Bloody old doors,” McGonagall mutters as she steps inside. She eyes both Fred and Y/N quizzically and Y/N holds her breath, waiting to be told off. “And how are things?” she asks.
Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “Going well, professor.”
Fred nods in agreement. “We’ve been hard at work. Merlin’s honor,” Fred adds.
“Very well then. I shall see you both tomorrow after dinner.” McGonagall steps out of the way, and both Y/N and Fred practically throw down the things in their hands as they rush to leave the room.
They walk back to the common room side by side, neither of them really sure what to say. Fred says the password as they reach the Fat Lady, and he lets Y/N go in first. Before Y/N has a chance to say anything to Fred he’s heading to join George on one of the couches, and Hermione is calling Y/N over.
“How was detention?” Hermione asks as Y/N reaches the table she’s sat at.
Y/N shrugs, trying to keep from blushing. “It was fine. Pretty boring actually.”
“Only four more days,” Hermione says with a laugh. “I’m working on that Charms essay if you wanna join me.”
“Yeah, totally. I’m just gonna go upstairs and grab a quick shower first and then grab my stuff.” Y/N can feel Fred’s release dripping out of her and into her panties, and she’ll never be able to focus on her homework if she doesn’t get cleaned up first.
“See you in a bit then.”
Y/N gives Hermione a smile before she turns on her heel and starts to head towards the staircase. Her legs are still a little shaky, and as she takes the first few steps up she stumbles a bit. Y/N looks back to see if anyone noticed, only to be met with Fred’s eyes. He gives her a sly wink, and she flips him off before disappearing up the stairs.
-
“So detention with Weasley was okay?” Matthew asks Y/N the next morning at breakfast.
They’re sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as always, and Y/N is thankful for the space it gives her from Fred. Last night was the best sex Y/N has ever had, and the fact that it was with someone she has hated for years has done nothing but confuse her further. She still hates Fred without a shadow of a doubt, but Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t want it to happen again.
“Yeah, it was pretty chill. McGonagall had us scrubbing trophies and stuff in the trophy room for hours which was mind numbing but, other than that it was uneventful,” Y/N lies. Telling her brother about her sex life is low on the list of things Y/N wants to do under normal circumstances, and it’s even lower when her partner is someone her brother considers an enemy.
“A bit of hard labor never hurt,” Matthew jokes, causing Y/N to choke on her orange juice.
“Yeah right. Hard labor,” Y/N tries to joke back once her coughs have died down. If only he knew the kind of hard labor we got up to Y/N thinks to herself as her eyes wander over towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes meet Fred’s and she has to look away to avoid blushing.
“Hello, earth to Fred,” George calls, waving his hand in front of Fred’s face.
Fred drags his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at his brother. “Sorry, what did you say?”
George chuckles and looks over his shoulder to see what had Fred so occupied. “Ah, Y/N,” he drawls, looking back at Fred. “You were pretty quiet after you got back from detention. Did something happen?”
“No, not at all,” Fred lies, hoping his cheeks don’t start to heat up. Much like Y/N, Fred is completely confused about their encounter. He’s loathed both Y/N and her brother for as long as he can remember, but less than 12 hours ago they were having some of the best sex Fred has ever had and he’s already thinking about what they might get up to when they’re alone tonight.
“I was kinda surprised you came back in one piece,” Ron adds with a laugh. Fred throws his spoon at Ron, and the younger boy dodges it. “No need to be so rude. You two have hated each other for years and she looked ready to beat your ass on Saturday. I figured she’d take the opportunity to do it when you were alone.”
“Why do you two hate each other so much?” Hermione asks from Ron’s side. “It seems like you’ve been at each other’s throats since our first year.”
“I hate her because Y/N is an uppity asshole like her brother. Matthew is always getting me and George in trouble and Y/N does the same,” Fred explains. “Your first year, George was serving a detention with Snape and I set up what was going to be our best revenge prank yet. I went all out, it took weeks of planning.  Except it never went off. Someone ratted on me and McGonagall intervened. I got in probably the worst trouble I’ve ever been in, Mum sent Howlers for days afterwards. I was in detention for months.”
“I remember that! Mum was still pissed at Christmas,” Ron says.
Hermione knits her eyebrows together. “I remember that too. But what does that have to do with Y/N?”
Fred sighs. “When I was leaving the prank to wait for George so we could set it off, Y/N passed me in the hallway. It had to be her who ratted me out just like her brown-nosing brother.”
“But it couldn’t have been Y/N. I spent most of the afternoon with her in the library working on a Herbology assignment. Ron and Harry were there too,” Hermione explains, and both Ron and Harry nod in agreement. “She must have passed you on the way into the library. By the time we left the library you were already in trouble, there’s no way she could have gone to see McGonagall between the time she passed you and when she got to the library.”
“Bet you it was Malfoy,” Harry adds. “He was leaving the library as Y/N entered, remember? He shoved her into the door jamb as they passed by each other.”
“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Fred interrupts, his tone dripping with confusion. “You mean to tell me that I’ve spent the past 5 years hating Y/N for something she didn’t even do?”
Hermione nods. “Seems that way.”
Fred groans and stands up. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Fred heads out of the Great Hall and towards class, feeling even more confused than he had before.
-
“You plan on ignoring me all night, princess?” Fred says quietly, coming up behind Y/N. McGonagall has just barely shut the door behind her to leave them be and Fred doesn’t want to waste any time. He’s decided in the time it’s been since breakfast that he really isn’t sure how he truly feels about Y/N and having sex with her seems to be the best way for him to figure it out. He’d been trying to catch her attention all day, but Y/N barely even glanced at him.
“How the hell do you move so quietly?” Y/N asks, toying with the rag in her hands. Truthfully Y/N had planned on ignoring Fred. She spent most of the day trying to decide what to do about this murky new relationship they’ve gotten themselves in, and finally settled on letting Fred take the next step. Y/N is prideful above anything else, and she’d rather streak through the hallways naked than come on to Fred when he only saw their sex as a one-time thing.
Fred presses a kiss to the side of Y/N’s neck, smiling into the skin when she shivers. “You didn’t answer my question, princess.”
“You that desperate for me already, Fred?” Y/N teases, turning around to look at him.
“No,” Fred responds slowly, his gaze flicking to Y/N’s lips for a moment. “But I know you enjoyed last night, as did I. So I don’t see why we can’t do it again.”
“Maybe because we’re supposed to be shining these stupid trophies, not having sex. We barely did any work last night and I have a feeling McGonagall will notice when everything looks the same again,” Y/N responds in lieu of actually responding to Fred’s preposition.
“I can take care of that,” Fred insists. He takes his wand out of his back pocket and casts a spell which makes several of the trophies around them shine like diamonds. “There. Now McGonagall will have no idea what we were really getting up to in here.”
Y/N drops her rag and turns around, her arms winding around Fred’s neck as his wrap around her waist. She bites her lip, unable to stop her eyes from traveling down to Fred’s mouth. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” Y/N says softly, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Outside of this room I still hate you and you still hate me. Got it?”
“Of course, princess,” Fred confirms. Once Y/N relaxes in his embrace Fred wastes no time and presses their lips together, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.
Y/N moans into the kiss, one of her hands trailing down Fred’s torso to his hardening erection. She palms him lightly, smirking when his knees quiver. “So hard for me already, Freddie? You miss being buried in my pussy that much?”
Fred starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck, one of his hands inching up her skirt. He pushes the fabric aside as he sucks a mark into her skin, and let’s two of his fingers rub through her wet folds. “You’re one to talk,” Fred teases as Y/N gasps. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re dripping wet. Been thinking about my cock, princess?”
“Fred,” Y/N whines as he sinks a finger into her heat. She clenches around him, her hand starting to palm him harder.
Fred pulls his hand out of her panties and kisses away Y/N’s pout. “Your mouth felt so good on me yesterday, princess,” Fred starts, leading them over to the couch. “And tonight, I’m gonna use my mouth on you to say thank you.”
Y/N shivers as Fred pushes her back onto the couch, her arousal growing even more. His voice is deep and slow, the complete opposite to how it was last night. Yesterday they had both teased each other, but it’s clear by Fred’s actions so far that he’s in no mood to play the same games again.
“How generous,” Y/N teases, watching as Fred starts to unbutton his shirt.
“If you want me to tease I can tease,” Fred muses, dropping his shirt on the ground next to his tie. “Or you can get naked and I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to let you cum.”
Y/N immediately kicks off her shoes and wiggles out of her skirt and panties, letting them drop to the floor. “Please eat me out, Fred,” she pleads as her hands start to work at the buttons of her shirt.
Fred kicks Y/N’s discarded clothes out of the way and drops to his knees, grabbing a thigh in each hand. He pulls her legs apart and settles in between them before pressing kisses up her thigh and towards her heat. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, princess?” Fred stops to suck a mark on the inside of her thigh, only an inch or two away from where Y/N needs him most. “Bet you taste so good, princess.”
“Put your mouth on me and you’ll find out,” Y/N pants, fisting a hand in Fred’s hair.
Fred looks up at Y/N, his mouth running dry and how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and her school shirt lays open, the tops of her breasts spilling out over the cups of her bra. Fred can still make out some of the marks he left on them yesterday as her chest heaves with deep breaths. Y/N’s stomach is quivering and Fred dips down and licks a long strip from the bottom of her pussy to the top to keep himself from blurting out just how beautiful he finds her.
Y/N moans as Fred’s tongue starts to flick at her clit, tugging his hair slightly. Fred’s fingers are digging into her thighs and it only turns her on more. “More, Fred, please.”
Fred’s tongue travels down from Y/N’s clit to her dripping entrance, slowly sliding into her as he collects her juices. He moans at her taste, letting his tongue fuck in and out of Y/N’s pussy. “Knew you’d taste good,” Fred praises. He sucks Y/N’s clit into his mouth and takes one of his hands off her thigh so he can sink his index finger into her.
“Freddie,” Y/N whines, bearing her hips down onto his finger. He curls it inside of her, and Y/N clenches around it. “Wanna come, please,” Y/N begs.
Fred nibbles lightly on her clit, teasing a second finger around her entrance. “Gonna have to come from just one finger, princess. Want my cock to stretch you out.” Y/N lets out a loud moan at that, and Fred smiles as he presses a wet kiss to her clit. “You like that idea, princess? My cock splitting you open?”
“Fuck me now, Fred,” Y/N demands, tugging on his hair again. “Wanna come around your cock.”
Fred licks up Y/N’s core one last time before he pulls away and starts to work on taking the rest of his clothes off. “Fuck, Y/N. You can’t say shit like that to me and not expect me to bury my cock in you every chance I get.” Fred stands up to get rid of his bottoms, watching as Y/N tosses her shirt aside and takes off her bra. “Don’t think I told you how incredible your tits are yesterday, Y/N. They’re so soft and round and perfect,” he groans.
Y/N flushes under Fred’s praise and climbs onto his lap when he sits down next to her. She presses their lips together and kisses him messily, one of her hands gripping his shoulder while the other reaches around to grip the base of his cock. “Gonna make me do all the work, Weasley? Typical man,” she teases, letting the tip of his cock tease her entrance.
Fred’s hands land on Y/N’s hips and he smirks as their lips connect once again. When Y/N teases her entrance again, Fred jerks his hips up and slams her down at the same time, shoving his cock all the way into Y/N. “What was that, princess? About me doing all the work?”
Y/N gasps as Fred enters her, her walls twitching around him. “So fucking big, Fred, holy hell. Feels like it’s splitting me in two. Feels so good.”
Fred hums and kisses Y/N again as she starts to bounce on him, his hips meeting her thrusts. “Riding me so good, princess,” he groans. “You feel amazing around me. Always so tight for me.” One of Fred’s hands travels to Y/N’s core and starts to lightly rub her clit while the other starts to pinch and toy with her nipple. He leans forward and presses his lips to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.
“Not where people can see,” Y/N warns, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. She leans back to brace a hand on Fred’s thigh, whining at the new angle. The tip of Fred’s cock rubs her g-spot with each movement, and Y/N can feel her orgasm building.
“But that’s half the fun,” Fred pouts, examining the few bruises he’s left on her neck. “Want everyone to know who this pussy belongs too.”
Y/N moans as Fred’s head dips down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth. “So this pussy belongs to you?” Y/N stutters, her eyes fluttering closed as Fred nibbles on her nipple and starts to rub her clit faster.
“Does it not?” Fred asks, fucking his hips up into Y/N harder. “Or is there someone else that makes you feel this good?”
“Fred,” Y/N moans as he pinches her clit and nipple at the same time, her orgasm taking over her suddenly.
“Fucking hell,” Fred moans as Y/N tightens around him and collapses into his chest. He grips her hips and moves her on his cock as he chases his own release. “How the fuck are you even tighter?” He groans as Y/N clenches around him again, and he brings her down on him one last time before his cock starts to twitch and he releases inside of her.
Fred starts to rub Y/N’s back as they both come down, whining as she shifts on his softening cock. “So good for me, princess,” he praises, pressing a few kisses to the side of Y/N’s face.
Y/N pulls away from Fred slightly so she can kiss him. Their lips move together softly and Y/N whines into it when Fred lifts her off of his cock. “Feel so empty without you,” she admits sheepishly, her cheeks heating up.
Fred chuckles and starts to trace shapes into her sweaty skin. “Trust me, love. If McGonagall wasn’t due to barge through that door any minute now we’d be getting ready for round 2.”
-
By the time Friday rolls around Y/N is more confused than ever. Every time her and Fred go their separate ways after detention leaves her with an empty feeling in her chest and she’s not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that Fred has started being nice to her outside of their detentions too.
Instead of his usual hard glares she finds him looking at her softly during meals and he greets her every time their paths cross instead of ignoring her as per usual. Their housemates are starting to notice Fred’s change in behavior as well. One morning he lets her have the last piece of bacon on the platter, and Hermione gives her a questioning look. When she’s doing homework in the common room with Harry and her ink runs out, Fred pulls a new bottle out of his bag and immediately hands it over to her, causing Harry’s jaw to practically drop. It’s almost as if they’re friends now, and it only complicates things in Y/N’s head further.
Y/N has found herself actually enjoying Fred’s tenderness, and she doesn’t quite know what that means. Tonight is the last night they’ll have to spend together, and Y/N is both scared and curious about what that means for their relationship. She spares a glance at Fred from down the table as Hermione chatters on about something, and she looks away quickly when his eyes meet hers.
“Last detention, what are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” George asks, pulling Fred’s attention back to him. When all his brother does is shrug, George frowns. “What the hell has gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird all week and now you almost seem, sad that your detention is over with.”
Fred bites his lip, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. “Just been thinking about stuff.” Fred has gotten himself in a major problem, and he’s been trying to figure out how to get himself out of it all week. After his second time with Y/N things became clearer to Fred, he certainly doesn’t hate Y/N anymore, and he’s found himself developing feelings for her. He wouldn’t say he’s in love, but he’d be lying if he said he can’t see himself falling in love with Y/N.
He’s been paying more attention to her since his revelation that his deep-rooted hate was based in a misunderstanding, and he’s noticed so many things about her that he finds so endearing. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s had her moaning and writhing underneath him every day this week and every time she moans his name his heart swells.
“This about Y/N?” George asks carefully, not wanting to push Fred too much. Being a twin has its advantages, and while he can’t say he knows what’s going on in Fred’s head he can tell something is off with him and it’s not too hard to guess why.
“I don’t hate her anymore,” Fred admits quietly. “And it’s not like I’m in love with her or anything, but I think I could be. Someday. If she would let me.” Fred sighs and looks at George. “But I’m pretty sure she still hates my guts, I mean how could she not? I’ve been a dick to her for years and it’s stupid of me to think that a few nights of sex can change that.”
George chokes on his pumpkin juice. “You two have been screwing?”
“Shh, shh,” Fred says quickly, looking around to make sure no one overheard. “Keep your voice down, I don’t need the whole school knowing. Especially Y/N’s brother.”
“I thought you two were just making out or something,” George continues quietly. “Now I know why you’re so happy when you get back from detention every night.” George wiggles his eyebrows at Fred, and Fred rolls his eyes in response.
“We agreed that we wouldn’t continue hooking up after our detention was up and things are going to go right back to how they were before it started,” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But I don’t feel the same way about her as I did before and I don’t know if I can start pretending to hate her.”
George gives Fred a sad smile and ruffles his hair. “I wish I could help you, Freddie.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Fred watches as Y/N stands up to head to detention, and he slowly follows her lead trying not to pay too much attention to how her hips sway.
-
“I guess this is it,” Y/N says quietly, trying to not let the sadness she feels creep into her chest. Fred has just finished fucking her into the carpet and she’s cuddled into his side as they catch their breath. In a few minutes McGonagall will be back, and whatever this is between her and Fred will be over.
“Guess so,” Fred responds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His chest is already aching, and they haven’t even parted ways yet.
Y/N tilts her head up and catches Fred’s mouth in one final kiss. “It was nice, to not be your enemy for a bit.”
“Let’s not go back to being enemies then,” Fred says carefully. When Y/N looks up at him worriedly Fred musters up what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Friends?”
Y/N nods, trying to figure out why Fred’s offer of friendship simultaneously makes her happy and sad. “Sure, friends.”
They part and get dresses quietly, barely even able to look at each other. When McGonagall finally pushes through the door their standing at opposite ends of the room, and the awkwardness in the air is evident.
“I hope you two learned your lesson,” McGonagall says quietly before watching the two of them scurry away, their heads hanging low.
-
Despite the fact that she and Fred had agreed to be friends, Y/N can’t help but notice that he’s ignoring her. It’s been a little over a week since their last detention, and Fred hasn’t even said two words to Y/N. He’s barely even looked at her. His sudden disappearance from her life has left her both sad and angry, and she’s started to realize that maybe it’s because she really wanted to be more than friends with Fred. She thought maybe he had wanted that too, but with his sudden cool attitude, Y/N isn’t going to be the one searching him out to get to the bottom of it.
“Okay, you’re like, the best sister ever,” Matthew greets as she comes to sit next to him at the Ravenclaw table. It’s fairly early on a Saturday morning, so the Great Hall is still pretty empty.
“I mean I know that,” Y/N says with a laugh as she sits down next to him. “But do you wanna explain why you’re suddenly realizing it too?”
Matthew rolls his eyes and waves around the letter in his hand. “I got this in the mail today, no need to be so coy.”
“What is it?” Y/N grabs the letter from him and scans over it briefly. “One of the teams is going to send another scout to your next game. That’s amazing!”
Matthew frowns at her. “You mean you didn’t write to them?” When Y/N shakes her head, his frown turns into a look of confusion. “The letter says someone at school wrote to them and asked them to reconsider drafting me and that I’m a better player than I demonstrated.”
“Must have been someone on the team,” Y/N muses, taking a sip of orange juice.
“That’s what I thought, but look at the team they sent the letter to,” Matthew insists, tossing the envelope to Y/N.
She looks at it closely, noticing the team emblem embossed into the parchment. “That’s your favorite team,” Y/N points out.
“That’s why I figured it was you. You’re the only one that knows they’re my favorite, and it’s kinda weird that out of the six or seven teams that sent scouts this person would send a letter to the one team I’ve always wanted to play for.”
Y/N’s jaw drop as a conversation she’d had with Fred one night as they laid next to each other to recover. She offhandedly mentioned how sad Matthew had been after receiving a rejection letter from his favorite team. She thought nothing of it at the time when Fred asked her which team it was, but it all makes sense now.
“I think I know who sent that letter. I’ll be back.”
Y/N heads out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, all kinds of emotions flowing through her body.
“Fred!” Y/N shouts as she throws the door to his dorm open. All three of the boys in there jump, frightened by her sudden appearance. She starts to storm towards Fred, and George and Lee take the opportunity to sneak out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
“Do you mind?” Fred says dully. His back is to Y/N and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
As Y/N comes to stand behind Fred she can’t help but notice that he’s standing next to his bed in nothing but his boxers. His hair is messy, and she figures he’s only been awake a few minutes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Y/N reminds him. “I need to talk to you.”
Fred sighs and turns around to look at her, sitting on his bed. “What?” His voice shakes, and he prays Y/N doesn’t notice.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N asks, trying not to lose her nerve. Fred looks beautiful sitting there, and it’s taking everything in her not to crawl into his lap and kiss him.
Fred rolls his eyes. “Lots of things are wrong with me, Y/N. You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“Why did you send that letter? To the quidditch team?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
Fred smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “They weren’t supposed to say you sent the letter,” he mumbles.
“They didn’t. But the only person who knows about Matthew’s dream to play for that team besides he and I is you. And since he didn’t send the letter and neither did I it had to have been you,” Y/N pauses, looking at Fred. “Why did you do it?” she asks again, softer.
“I dunno,” Fred responds with a shrug. “I could tell you were upset about the whole thing, so I figured I’d reach out. The worst they could do is send a letter back to me saying no. And then you’d never have to know about it. And if they said yes Matthew would never know it was me who sent the original letter in.” Fred bites his lips. “I just wanted to do something to make you feel better.”
Y/N’s heart melts. “You did it for me?”
“Why are you surprised? I figured it was obvious there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Or have you forgotten about the seven orgasms I gave you last Thursday?” Fred teases.
Y/N can feel her cheeks flush and a shiver runs down her spine at the memory. “Why go through all that and not even take the credit for it?”
“Because of what you said, the second night of our detention,” Fred starts. “You made me promise that us hooking up wouldn’t change our relationship outside of detention and I very clearly broke that promise.”
“But I thought we agreed to be friends?” Y/N admits softly. When Fred nods she sighs in frustration. “Then how come you’ve been ignoring me? I’ve seen you less in the past week than I did when we hated each other.”
“Because I don’t want to be just your friend,” Fred admits. “I want to hold your hand and take you on dates and kiss you and fuck you in my bed. Or your bed. Any bed really I still have fucking carpet burn on my knees,” he jokes, trying to diffuse the air in the room. “I’m starting to feel things for you, Y/N. And I thought just being your friend would be enough but it’s not.”
“Freddie,” Y/N whispers, taking his hand in hers. “Why not just say all that then?”
Fred rolls his eyes. “Maybe because you’ve spent the past five years hating my guts? And you were pretty adamant that you wanted to continue hating me no matter how much sex we had.”
“You seemed to hate me pretty strongly too,” Y/N points out with a quiet laugh. “I wanted to hate you still, I really did. No offense,” she apologizes, squeezing Fred’s hand. “But as we spent more and more time together inside and outside the trophy room I couldn’t even remember why I started hating you in the first place. Your issues with Matthew are your issues with Matthew, and I shouldn’t have made them my issues with you too.”
“That’s why you hated me? Because of Matthew?” Fred asks, pulling Y/N onto his lap.
“It sounds stupid now. But it made sense at the time,” Y/N says quietly.
Fred grips Y/N’s face carefully and brings their lips together in a slow kiss. Their mouths move together softly, and Fred can’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. Fred nibbles on Y/N’s lips to ask permission to enter her mouth, but Y/N keeps her lips shut tight. Sensing her sudden hesitation, Fred pulls away. “What’s wrong? I thought all that meant we were going to move towards something more. Did I read it all wrong? Oh god I did. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”
Y/N presses a reassuring kiss to Fred’s mouth. “It did mean we’re moving towards something more. I want to be something more with you,” Y/N admits. “I just. I don’t know how to be something more with you, Freddie. I don’t know how to be your girlfriend.”
Fred chuckles. “Well I don’t exactly know how to be your boyfriend either.” Fred kisses Y/N again sweetly. “But that’s the fun part of a new relationship, isn’t it? Figuring it out together.”
“At least we’ve already got the sex part figured out.” Y/N laughs as Fred stands up and throws her down on the bed.
Fred crawls up the bed and drapes himself over Y/N. “Doesn’t hurt to work on it, though,” Fred teases, kissing her hard.
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ackerpreach · 3 years
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This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I don’t think I’m the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)
MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION
Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter
After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...
Mikasa’s worthless character development/ Aaronmika’s horrible toxic codependent relationship 
Oh honey... Let’s start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could.  She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared. 
but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Let’s make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaron’s dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN) 
Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaron’s always been head over heels for her???  He should have build their relationship better which he hasn’t even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.    
Like seriously??? What is this??? 
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Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. It’s like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra money’s from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for. 
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This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I can’t even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa. 
Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that?  Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all they’ve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way.  Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO!  All I see between these two after today’s raw Chapter’s are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship. 
Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this. 
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Shonen’s disgusting portrayal of women 
I’ve seen this countless of times in the many years I’ve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesn’t notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. It’s disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way. 
It’s dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasa’s character right. That she’s finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, it’s burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangaka’s to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy. 
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I wished he didn’t portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. I’m not saying she’s not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR. 
I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.
The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that??? 
It’s so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below.  I don’t know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and  it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesn’t fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place...  It’s like I’m reading a chapter from a totally different manga. 
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Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaron’s character assassination
The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanity’s fear and Aaron’s hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he  got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and that’s it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historia’s baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. It’s his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. He’s so weak and directionless suddenly.. It’s so weird... This is not Aaron at all???
Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I don’t want others to invade our tags... :)))
Historia’s baby 
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The only panel we got from Historia’s child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historia’s pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? It’s again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all  got thrown out of the window... 
Don’t read the next sentence if you are a minor :’) 
It’s like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.
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My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action
In Conclusion...
I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayama’s story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. He’s become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesn’t need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. It’s his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didn’t know how to bind it all together.
Even after all this, I’ll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesn’t mean we have to.  I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesana​ and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we don’t neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art I’ve seen, the fanfictions I’ve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative. 
I love you all so so much, I’ve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3
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