#okay that's an exaggeration no one has offered me juice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rachelsfav-queer · 1 month

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Ooh I loved your previous post about the girls being nude around each other, and especially anons bit about them touching themselves casually around each other.

Like I could imagine them watching a movie together when a really steamy scene begins and Enid gets really hard so she has to get off.

Or maybe Yoko offers a hand

Okay first, I really love this and I got something for it, but I think I’m gonna make a quick shift here.

Because, I gotta be honest, Enid having a cock just isn’t clicking with me for this particular au. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it’s just not meshing well in my head. Also the whole, Alpha Enid isn’t clicking either.

Now don’t get me wrong, those are both incredibly hot ideas and I love them both, I’ve played with them quite a bit in other aus and stuff, but they just don’t fit in the Nightshade Girlfriends au to me. I’m seeing Enid as more of a switch in this ship. So, for the main timeline to the Nightshade Girlfriends au, I’m declaring that Enid is a switch and has a good old fashioned pussy!

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk! Pffft, okay seriously now, onto the horny thoughts!

(All Characters Are 18+)

Enid and Yoko are having a movie night on their own tonight since all the others are busy with either work or tests. The werewolf and vampire are the only ones with free schedules for the time being. So, they get together in Enid’s dorm room since it’s the most spacious of their rooms.

Enid wasn’t feeling particularly picky tonight, so she let Yoko choose what movie they’d watch. But Yoko was feeling a little more frisky than usual, which is saying something considering her almost concerningly active sex-drive. So the dark-haired girl decided to put on a movie that she knew had a lot of sex scenes. (A lot) And so, Yoko started the movie and Enid cuddled up to her, unaware of the vampire’s plans.

And Yoko’s plan comes to fruition within only half an hour into the movie. There’s been two pretty tame sex scenes so far, but it’s still been enough to get her little werewolf in the mood. Enid shifts herself a bit, already needy for some friction. Yoko smirks but does nothing yet. She doesn’t want Enid to catch on quite yet, she needs her to be desperate.

As the movie goes on, the sex gets more intense and Enid becomes even less discreet with her attempts to relieve herself, all until the movie reaches its penultimate, with the characters all getting into an orgy, or more specifically, a gangbang. And the receiver of the gangbang just so happens to be… a blonde werewolf. Enid moans loudly at the realization of the similarities between her and the werewolf in the movie and is unable to keep herself from grinding her groin against her hand that’s been down there holding herself over her basketball shorts.

Yoko smirks, It’s time.

The vampire leans closer to whisper in the werewolf’s ear, “Do you need help with that, Wolfie?”

Enid whines and nods. She removes her hand from her groin and spreads her legs, giving up control to her girlfriend. Yoko palms Enid’s pussy through her shorts, grinding her palm against her, eliciting tiny whimpers from the blonde. “Do you like that, pup?” Enid nods again, turning her head into Yoko’s shoulder and Yoko lets her for the moment. She keeps going for a couple minutes, riling her shorter girlfriend up as much as she can.

Eventually, Yoko pulls her hand away, causing Enid to whine loudly and try to grab her hand and put it back, which only earns her a light slap to her hand. Yoko tsks at the blonde and gets off the couch, and gets down on her knees in front of Enid. She taps Enid’s thigh twice, signaling for her to lift her hips so that Yoko can pull her shorts off and expose her practically soaked pussy, “No panties? Good puppy.” Yoko drags a single digit up the wolf’s slit, collecting her juices, all the way up to her brown bush, slightly soaking the dark hairs before pulling her finger into her mouth, moaning explicitly at the taste, only slightly exaggerating to get Enid blushing more than she already is. Yoko then closes in on Enid’s pussy, leaving barely a couple centimeters between her mouth and the desperate werewolf, and breathes out, “I know you’re excited, puppy slut, but I want you to focus on the movie. Look away and I stop. Be good, puppy.”

And with that, Yoko dives in, devouring Enid and immediately Enid’s head shoots back in shock, making Yoko stop. “Already, slut? Looks like you have a long night ahead of you, puppy.”

Enid corrects herself and Yoko starts again, this time the werewolf manages to keep her eyes on the screen for a while.

They spend the rest of the night like this, and Yoko ends up edging Enid more than a dozen times due to Enid closing her eyes or looking away from the movie in some way. By the time the credits roll, Enid’s barely coherent and has more than torn up the couch cover with her claws. And when Yoko finally lets Enid cum, it’s one of the most explosive orgasms she’s ever had. It’s a shame the girls weren’t there to see it, but thankfully Yoko turned on the indoor camera in the living room just before they started, so they’ll be able to enjoy the show when they get home.

End <3

(Yes, I do headcanon Enid having natural brown hair)

#anon ask #ask answered #nightshade girlfriends #enid sinclair #yoko tanaka #18+ content #18+ only #my writing

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frodo-with-glasses · 2 years

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This isn't a specific number of friendship ask (though kind of related to "would you be friends with them"): if you could pick a "Fellowship" of nine non-Fellowship members from LotR to hang out with for a day, who would you choose? :D ~meg

GAAAASP oh man I completely misread this the first time, you said NON-Fellowship members!! Heckin’! Okay this is gonna be FUN 🤩

First pick goes to Beregond and Bergil, obviously. Gotta have my husband and my son. Then Bilbo, for the Stories and the Sass.

I feel like it would be fun to hang out with Treebeard—all hail King Tree!—but I almost wonder if his slowness would dominate all conversation and leave no room for the others to be themselves, so I’ll go with Quickbeam. He’s got fun stories, and he’s “hasty” enough to not bore all the non-Ents.

Do non-speaking creatures count?? (I ask, as if you have any way of answering this before I publish the post.) I’m gonna assume the answer is “yes” and add Bill the Pony and Shadowfax. Because who wouldn’t want to spend time with Best Pony and King Horse??

That’s six…I need three more.

From the Elves: Glorfindel! Because Glorfindel! He is noble and light-hearted and joyful even in the greatest peril and doubtlessly has amazing stories. (And Asfaloth would probably come with him! I’m sure he’d get along splendidly with Shadowfax.)

From the Dwarves: Gimli is off-limits, so Gloin! Grandpa Dwarf who can tell us all about the exciting things happening in Dale. And he can offer corrections when Bilbo grossly exaggerates his stories, as he is prone to do.

And finally…(oof this is a really difficult decision uhhh….)

HAHAHA okay I was gonna say Theoden—because Dad VibesTM—but now I think it’s even more hilarious to say Butterburr, because all of the sudden I’m imagining this menagerie of various peoples of Middle Earth—including two or three equines, a tree, and one modern girl in blue jeans—rocking up one day to the Prancing Pony and asking for dinner.

I’m seeing drinks for all the grown-ups, and fresh-pressed juice for Bergil and me—because he is a Child and I have alcohol poisoning issues LOL—and the finest apples and straw for Bill and Shadowfax, and a long draught of rainwater for Quickbeam, and then a good long night of tales and songs and laughter, until the moon is high and Beregond carries a fully dead-to-the-world Bergil to bed, and Quickbeam steps away to have a sleep standing in the nearby field, and the rest of us slowly trickle away to our own rooms.

That would be just. ✨Magical.✨ I’d probably pass out on the spot. (And not from the alcohol because I didn’t have any 🤣🤣) Thank you for this ask, Meg!! It is absolutely splendid and I love how your mind works!

(And now I’m asking all of YOU GUYS: Who would be in your Fellowship for the day??)

#asked and answered #meg tag #beregond #bergil #quickbeam #bill the pony #shadowfax #glorfindel #gloin #butterbur #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #stop giving me more ideas for things to DRAW—#(jk never stop 💚)#fellowship game

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aenaxes · 3 years

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OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

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smelted-applejuice · 3 years

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I sent this before but I don't think it went through- So heyo! I have plenty of ideas so bare with me lmao- Mayhaps I could request a oneshot/anything really where Bad or someone else finds a child that turns out to be Tommy's sibling/adopted child? Knowing him he would be mad XD -CB(I can be known as CB if you'd like)

Pairing(s); Tommy x Reader (PLATONIC), Badboyhalo x reader (PLATONIC) Pronouns; they/them Desc; [YourName] does some exploring while being watched by their older brother Tommy.

Requests r open! :D also! Yes ! Yes I will refer to you as CB!! I’m so excited to have my first anon, whats ur pronouns ?? -

[YourName] nodded as they watched their older brother walk off with Tubbo. Philza had placed Tommy in charge of his little sibling, even Tommy laughed when Phil first suggested the idea, but soon realized Phil was being serious. Tomathy was in charge of his little sibling, [YourName] who was just as adventurous as the rest of their siblings and just as extroverted as Tommy. Who knows what trouble the two would cause as a pair, their brain cells together equal to exactly one half. But [YourName] gets an excuse, they’re only five and still need their brain cell to grow, hopefully to more than just a half. Out of all of Phil’s children, Techno has more than one and Phil was hoping [YourName] would change it from one smart child to two. After today, he was unsure.

Tommy had thought taking [YourName] to see Tubbo was smart, [YourName] liked Tubbo and Tubbo was child friendly- at least most of the time he was. “Let’s get going kid, we gotta head out.” Tommy said dragging his sibling with him, not even letting them speak before walking out the door of their home. [YourName] huffed but went along with it, all they wanted to do was take a nap and drink their juice. “I want to nap, Tommy” [YourName] said, making it clear here and now, Tommy rolled his eyes “It doesn’t matter what you want, kid, we’re going to see Tubbo. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you nap at his house.” he said, hoping to give his little sibling some false hope. He couldn’t help but laugh, he just liked being the asshole sibling now and then, that’s what they get for being the youngest sibling it seems- jokes on top of jokes.

The walk was long, and Tommy would end up stopping at his own house before going on more toward Tubbo. “Stay out here, [YourName]. My house, my rules, and one of my rules are no gremlins.” Tommy says gently patting his sibling’s head, [YourName] blankly stared toward their brother and sighed “Then you shouldn’t be allowed in.” they spoke with geniality in their tone. Tommy growled and flicked their head before entering, all [YourName] did was laugh. Tommy would end up getting easily distracted, so [YourName] would find themselves just standing there with nothing to do. [YourName] glanced around and began following the path until they bumped into someone, “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going” [YourName] spoke quickly. The person glanced down and softly smiled, “Hello little one.” the person said crouching down. [YourName] nervously smiled, “Uhm, hello sir.” they replied, placing their hands behind their back. “I can tell you’re kind of put off, it’s the white eyes and the horns, huh?” He asked, [YourName] flustered being put on the spot like that. The person laughed, which was softer than the child had expected it to be- like something more angelic when he looks so demonic, “I’m Bad, where did you come from?” Bad asked the child curiously. “I was waiting outside of Tommy’s house for him, but he hasn’t come out for like... Hours.” [YourName] replied slightly exaggerating the time length. Bad shook his head, “Poor kid, always gets distracted, he probably;y will be busy for another few hours then..” he said thinking out loud. He understood the child might have dramatized the time length, but he wouldn’t put it past Tommy to take actual hours inside his little-large house. Bad offered his hand and [YourName] took it, they hadn’t known better anyway. Phil hadn’t thought them the stranger danger topic yet, all it had been was them and their siblings for the last five years, rarely did they leave the home. Bad would take [YourName] around the server, just feeding them and letting them nap in his arms. He was gentle with the child, but was upset Tommy had let his little sibling just sit outside and didn’t bother to check on them. Tommy had yet to be reigning fire around the server looking for them, so Bad had assumed Tommy didn’t even notice [YourName]’s absence. Bad looked over toward the sleeping child on his couch and sighed, he shook his head and hoped Tommy would notice soon. Soon would come, Tommy had completely forgotten he was babysitting. Tubbo had traveled back to see where the hell Tommy and [YourName] were because he had a few games planned to play with the two. When Tubbo showed up at the house, he realized Tommy and [YourName] weren’t home, the second place he would check is Tommy’s house. When he entered the home and was confused, where exactly was [YourName]? “Uh, Tommy, where’s [YourName]?” Tubbo asked with concern in his voice, Tommy was confused but then it clicked! “You’re telling me, [YourName] isn’t outside?” he asked, rushing toward the door and answered his own question. Tubbo shook his head and that’s when panic set in. He explained to Tubbo what [YourName] and he spoke about before he entered his home hours prior, “[YourName] probably;y went exploring, they got bored- so let’s get looking.” Tubbo suggested dreading the walking. Tubbo and Tommy looked around the first half of the server and turned up nothing. While walking back toward Tommy’s house, Bad and [YourName] were walking together. Tommy rushed forward and tackled his little sibling to the ground making both Bad and [YourName] yelp at different pitches. “HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY LITTLE SIBLING YOU LITTLE BITCH BABY!” Tommy said turning toward Bad like an animal, “Language! And I didn’t take them, they came to me because you didn’t let them inside the house!” Bad replied, placing his hands on his hips. Tommy went quiet for a moment, “YOU KIDNAPPED THEM!” Tommy accused. Tubbo, Bad, and [YourName] all had the same reaction, which was a done annoyed one, and just gave in. “Whatever, have a nice night you three.” Bad said walking off, Tommy sighed and made sure [YourName] was okay before taking everyone’s leave. Tubbo walked with Tommy and [YourName] back home and made sure Tommy told Philza everything that happened today and didn’t go off-topic. Phil would scold and ground Tommy while he gave [YourName] the stranger danger chat.

#Dream smp x reader #Tommyinnit x reader #Badboyhalo x reader #c!tommyinnit x reader #c!badboyhalo x reader #mcyt x reader #x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x yn #tommyinnit x y/n #badboyhalo x you #badboyhalo x y/n #badboyhalo x yn

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ghost-party · 3 years

Note

hi! i love your writing and would like to request season 4 reiner & fake dating w/ a female reader, if that’s ok. 🥺👉👈 maybe porco’s her ex & she wants to make him jealous?? thanks!

Thank you so much, anon! ❤️ I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this request, which is probably why this oneshot ended up being 2.8K... 😂

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, physical affection, bed-sharing, mention of depression and parental neglect, slight angst, brief recollection of coercive behavior (not Reiner) A/N: This story takes place in a modern AU.

And thank you to @clovertitan, @wasabito, @bricktheprettiestsiren, @darkcloakedinfinitevoid, and @bundleofyarrow for encouraging this. I love you all! 🤗

• • •

Reiner + Fake Dating

Every summer, you and your high school friends spend a weekend at a cabin on the lake close to where you grew up. With all of you now living in different cities, it’s an opportunity to get together, catch up, and relax. You’ve always looked forward to it... until now.

“Is it too late to say I can’t go?” You’re sitting on the couch with Reiner, trying to ignore your suitcase, already packed and sitting beside the front door.

“Yes,” he replies, draining the last of his beer. “Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

“Porco’s going to be there. With his new girlfriend. You know he’s going to be a little shit about it.”

You’re not sure if you can handle teasing jabs from your ex-boyfriend and watching him shove his tongue down a stranger’s throat. It’s not because you still have feelings for him. That ship sailed months ago. The idea of it just feels somewhat nauseating.

Reiner frowns. “Yeah, I know. But I’ll be there with you. Just do what I do and ignore him.”

It might be the alcohol, or something in his words, that inspires the idea. But regardless, you turn and look at him. “This is crazy, but... what if you... pretend to be my boyfriend?” When Reiner’s eyes widen, you quickly assure him, “Just for the weekend! I know, it’s stupid, I know. But I...”

“You want to make him jealous?”

“Maybe? Or prove that I’m not still single and pathetic, almost a year after breaking up...” You groan and flop back onto the pillows. “I’m horrible, aren’t I?”

“You’re not pathetic, and you’re not horrible.” He hesitates. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“It’s definitely not,” you admit. “Pieck would probably believe it. She’s been wanting us to date for years now. Same with Bert and Annie.” You miss the slight flush in Reiner’s cheeks as he stands, heading to the kitchen for another drink.

“Zeke would know,” he counters. “He’s like a human lie detector.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he’d say anything.” You sit up and lean over the back of the couch, resting your head on your arms. “If you really don’t want to, it’s okay. But it might be fun.”

You watch as Reiner walks back in, seeming deep in thought. He’s been your closest friend for as long as you can remember. But some small part of you is curious to know what it might be like, to be something more than that, even just for a few days...

He sits down beside you, and you give him a pleading look. “One weekend. I promise. Then everyone will go home, and things will go back to normal.”

Reiner sighs but then offers you a half-smile. “Alright, you win. One weekend. Let’s do it.”

• • •

When you and Reiner arrive at the lake the next morning, you enter what you call “Couple Mode.” But you very quickly come to a startling realization: Even as your fake boyfriend, he’s acting pretty much the same as he always has.

He rubs your shoulders when you grumble about the long drive, carries your luggage without asking, and holds the cabin door open for you, placing a hand at the small of your back when he joins you inside.

Pieck immediately notices your increased closeness and smiles warmly, asking how you’ve both been — and how long “this” has been going on. Bertholdt seems excited, in his own quiet way, and even Annie eyes the two of you, her lips curled up at the corners.

As Reiner suspected, Zeke seems to know better, shooting you a smirk as he walks past, carrying bottles of whiskey and vodka to the kitchen.

And then there’s Porco, sprawled on the sofa with his new girlfriend, staring at you so hard, you’re surprised his gaze hasn’t punched a hole straight through you.

You’re distracted when Zeke walks back in and says, “Your room’s at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“Our room? One room?” You blink at him. Neither you nor Reiner had told any of them ahead of time that you were now a couple. There should have been enough rooms for both of you to have one to yourselves.

“Eren and his friends decided to tag along, do some hiking, boring teenager shit.” Zeke grins. “What’s the problem? Don’t want to share a bed with your boyfriend?”

Before you can respond, Reiner interjects. “Sounds great. Come on, Y/N.” You trail behind him up the stairs, mouthing “I hate you” at Zeke as you walk past. He merely winks.

“He did that on purpose,” you hiss, walking down the hall. “If things were different, he probably would’ve had me share a room with Pieck.”

“You still can, if you want.”

Reiner sounds strangely distant, and you notice his grip tighten on the handles of your bags.

“No,” you say, touching his shoulder gently. “It’ll be like our sleepovers when we were kids. Remember?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah... Just like that...”

• • •

The rest of the day passes quickly. Zeke rents a pontoon boat at the nearby docks, and you all pile onto it, carrying beach towels, a radio, snacks, and several coolers full of water and contraband booze poured into plastic juice bottles.

After cruising around the lake, you pick a spot to stop for a while. Porco makes a show of stripping off his shirt and then tossing his shrieking, bikini-clad girlfriend into the water. The way he shoots you a look over his shoulder — somehow both cocky and pouting — causes Reiner’s arm to tighten around your waist.

Bertholdt and Annie join them, keeping their distance from the excited splashing, and Pieck lies on one of the padded benches, stretched out in the sun like a lazy cat. Zeke reclines at the wheel, a worn-out paperback held open in one hand.

And you and Reiner sit together at the front of the boat, gazing out at the lake. He seems more relaxed now, leaning back, his face tipped up towards the sky. He’s wearing dark green swim trunks and an unbuttoned shirt, revealing lean, sculpted muscles.

Sometimes you think he hasn’t changed all that much since high school. But looking at him now, you know he has. He’s taller, his softer edges more finely honed, and he always has a bit of scruff on his cheeks, unlike the clean-shaven boy you remember.

As if sensing your eyes on him, he turns to you and smiles. “You okay? Want to get in the water?”

“Not really.” You snuggle into the warmth of his shoulder, seeking out that slip of bare skin between his collar and neck. “I’m fine right here.”

He kisses the top of your head, the softest brush of lips against hair. “Me, too.”

It’s been less than a day, and already, the lines between you are starting to blur. Maybe it’s because it all feels so familiar. There’s very little exaggeration in his actions, his boyfriend persona almost entirely overlapping with the real Reiner Braun. It’s unexpected and terrifying and exciting all at once, and you have to remind yourself that this isn’t real. One weekend. I promise.

• • •

That evening, you step away from the bonfire, where Pieck is reminiscing about a senior prank gone horribly wrong — something involving spray paint, super glue, and Principal Magath’s portrait that hung in the school library. Closing the patio door behind you, you quietly pad through the living room, heading for the kitchen. But then you hear two voices.

You peer around the corner to find Reiner and Porco standing in front of the fridge. It’s clear that this isn’t a pleasant conversation, but before you can do anything, Reiner says, “You’re here with someone else, Pock. Why do you even care?”

Porco bristles at the nickname. “Because of course it’s you. I always knew it would be, what with the sappy way you look at her.”

Reiner ignores his taunt. “If I remember correctly, you broke up with her. She’s free to date whoever she wants.”

“Yeah, well...” Porco scoffs. You can tell from his posture, and the way he jabs a finger into Reiner’s chest, that he’s drunk. “If you want my sloppy seconds, she’s all yours, buddy.”

It happens so fast, you have to stifle a gasp. One minute, Reiner’s standing there, and the next, he has Porco shoved against the wall. His face is contorted with anger as he warns, voice low, “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Porco blinks up at him, mouth agape. When Reiner pulls back, he stumbles out of his reach, running a shaky hand through his hair. Without a word, he turns on his heel, headed straight toward you. But you manage to duck into the nearby bathroom just in time, watching as he walks past. He looks upset, dazed, and more than a little embarrassed. You hear the patio door open and close, and then Reiner, someplace close by, heaves a sigh. “Shit...”

He exits the cabin a few minutes later, and you lean against the bathroom wall, trying to process what the hell just happened.

• • •

It’s two in the morning by the time you brush your teeth and change into pajamas. When you walk into your shared bedroom, you find Reiner, wearing boxers and an old football t-shirt, retrieving some blankets from the tiny closet.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”

“Reiner, no.” You reach out and still his hands. “We can both sleep in the bed. It’s fine. It’ll be warmer, too.”

He gives you a strange look, seeming almost nervous. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. “With you? Never. Besides, is it really that different from when we fall asleep on your couch while watching a movie?”

His laugh sounds strained. “I guess not...”

But when you’re both lying beneath the covers, you realize it is different — especially when it’s a twin-sized bed rather than a large, comfy sectional.

Reiner is lying on his side, as close to the edge as possible. It’s almost comical, watching him try to find a position that accommodates his large frame and still gives you space.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, half-sitting up. “I’ll —”

“No, stop.” You reach out and grab his shoulder. It’s warm and firm beneath your hand, and you feel a jolt of something in the pit of your stomach. “Just... come over here.”

You pat the bed next to you, and he lies down, posture still stiff. With a huff, you grab his arm and pull it around you, hesitating once to ask, “Is this okay?” He nods, and you tug him closer, until his chest is pressed against your back.

“Now I don’t have to worry about you falling out of bed and cracking your skull open,” you mutter, trying to ignore the heat spreading across your face.

When he chuckles, you can feel it, and the sensation is both comforting and thrilling. “Like I said, just like a sleepover...” you say. At this point, you’re mostly trying to convince yourself.

“We’re not kids anymore,” Reiner replies softly, making your insides feel as if they’re doing a somersault.

You lightly kick back against his leg. “I know that. This does feel... different.”

He hums, and his head inches forward, tucking yours beneath his chin.

His steady breathing begins to lull you to sleep. He’s big and warm and safe, and he feels like home, more than anything or anyone ever has. The realization is fuzzy amidst your growing exhaustion, but it fills you with a peculiar kind of joy.

You almost miss his words as you drift off. They’re quiet and soft, like an exhale of breath.

“I love you.”

• • •

When you wake up the next morning, you’re alone. You push away your disappointment and get dressed, following the smell of pancakes downstairs to the kitchen. Bertholdt turns from the stove, and you can’t help but smile, noticing the “Hot Stuff Coming Through” apron he’s wearing.

“Pancakes?” he asks, and you nod. As you busy yourself with pouring a cup of coffee, Annie comes up beside you, leaning in to murmur, “Porco and Hanna left an hour ago.”

“What?” You look up at her, surprised. “They’re not coming back?”

“He said she had a work thing that came up.” Annie tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I think he and Reiner got into it last night, and he was feeling weird about it.”

“You know how he gets,” Bertholdt says, holding up a bag of chocolate chips. You nod, and he sprinkles some into the batter. “He’d rather run away than apologize.”

You nod absently, sipping your coffee. When you sit down at the dining room table a few minutes later, Zeke nods at you over his book, Pieck waves cheerfully, and Reiner looks up at you, concern etched across his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” You sit down beside him and poke at your food. “Annie told me Porco left.”

“Oh... Yeah, he did.”

You’re quiet all the way through breakfast, listening to the others talk about going kayaking or playing beach volleyball. When the time comes to clean up, you offer to handle the dishes, and Reiner silently joins you, washing while you dry.

You’re sure there’s a better way to bring it up, but you’re so preoccupied, those three little words running on repeat through your head, that you simply blurt out, “Did you mean it?”

Reiner glances at you, his brow furrowed. “What?”

Your grip on the mug you’re drying tightens. “What you said last night.”

Instantly, his expression shifts to one of shock. He nearly drops the sponge in his hand and stammers, “Uh, I... I thought you were asleep...”

“Is that why you said it?”

He stares at you for a long moment. “Yeah... It sort of... slipped out. After yesterday. Being so close to you, it felt...” A dark flush colors his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t want something real.” He grabs a nearby towel and dries his hands, leaning against the sink. “But I did — I do. It’s why I tried to say no, at first, to doing this. I didn’t think I’d be able to fake what’s already real for me, and then just... pretend like it never happened. I have a hard time saying no to you, though, so...”

You set the mug down and realize you’re trembling, your heart beating a mile a minute. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugs, and the sadness in his face pierces right through you. “I thought you deserved someone better than me.”

You know he’s talking about his struggles with depression and self-confidence, the lingering pain of his childhood, growing up with a mother who never made him feel like he was enough and a father who never wanted him.

Without thinking, you reach up, hands gently cradling his face. “Hey... Look at me.” He does, and you murmur, “There’s no one better than you.”

Your thumb strokes along his cheek, and he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. It’s so sweet and endearing — so perfectly him.

Even in high school, beneath his wise-cracking, popular jock façade, he was soft and kind. He was the one who cried with you when your grandmother died, never letting go of your hand throughout the whole funeral. He was the one who made mix CDs of songs you both loved and belted in the car on the way home from movie nights at Bertholdt’s house. He was the one who punched your prom date when he tried to force you into the backseat of his car, knocking out two of his teeth. He was the one who wrote you notes in college, tucking them into your jacket pocket or bag whenever you met up for coffee at the campus library.

He’s always been there for you — always. The realization feels stupidly simple and long overdue. How could what you feel for him, what you’ve felt for him since high school, be anything other than love?

“You’re more than enough. And I don’t want to pretend.” He opens his eyes, and you smile up at him. “Say it again?”

His arms slide around you, pulling you close. “Say what?” he asks quietly, kissing your forehead. “You’ll have to be more specific...”

You rest your hands on his chest, tracing the faint letters on his t-shirt. “Mm... I think it went a little something like this.” Standing on your tiptoes, you angle your lips toward his ear, brushing against his stubble. “I love you.”

He squeezes you so tight, you gasp, and as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, he whispers back, “I love you, too.”

#200 followers event #attack on titan #aot #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader

186 notes · View notes

eyebagsbutglam · 3 years

Text

Meet the Parent(s)

A/N: This is a quirkless AU, lets pretend the Todoroki's are a happy functional family. My apologies to @myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants thank you for beta reading this exceptionally traumatic piece of comedy. Get ready to bleach your eyeballs y'all.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, taboo themes, vanilla sex, fluff, alcoholic mother.. I mean its pretty tame

Pairing: Touya x F!Reader

Word Count: 3983

“NEVER trust men.” You rolled your eyes as your mom went on another one of her man-bashing tangents.

“I’m serious Y/N. They’re always amazing at first, wining and dining you, promising you the world. Then when shit gets real- BAM! They’re gone, leaving you in the dust.” She shot back her last sip of wine and wiggled the glass in front of you asking for a refill.

“Mom please. Touya’s different. He’s dependable and considerate. I promise if you just give him a chance you’re gonna love him.” You walked into the kitchen and instead of grabbing the wine you poured her a glass of grape juice. She was sloshed enough to not notice the difference, you were experienced enough to recognize the signs of when she needed to be cut off.

“I know he is baby I’m just saying -hic- keep an eye on him. I know I will be tomorrow night!” She slumped over setting her elbow on the table, clumsily resting her chin in her palm. Her eyes were already at half mass.

“Yeah about tomorrow night. Could you maybe hold off on the drinking? At least keep it to one glass..” You wanted to add instead of one bottle, but you knew where that would lead the conversation and you’d rather not get in an argument tonight.

“Oh yes of course sweetie. You know I would never want to do anything to -hic- embarrass you.”Even her smile was crooked.

“Okay well maybe we should call it an early night. I want to make sure we’re nice and fresh for meeting Touya’s family tomorrow.”You helped her out of her chair and walked her to her bedroom, tucking her in.

Your mother was stressed. And when she’s stressed, she drinks. You couldn’t blame her. All in one night you revealed things are getting pretty serious with the boy you’ve been talkng to, and told her the following night you’ll be bringing her to dinner to meet him and his family.

She never did well with you having boyfriends, always so worried they were going to do you wrong like your father did her. You knew very little about the man, only the bits and pieces she shared about him. He was a regular at the bar your mom worked at, always flirting with her. They started dating and six weeks in she got pregnant. When she told him he flipped. He offered her a very large sum of money to disappear and she agreed, leaving town with a broken heart and swollen belly.

You felt bad for your mom, knowing the experience really jaded her. She never dated again, throwing herself into a new career all while being a full time mom. You hoped that seeing how amazing Touya was and how good you two were together, she would change her mind about love and get back out on the dating scene.

On the drive back to your place you called your boyfriend. You were beginning to feel nervous for the upcoming event.

“Hello dollface.” His deep voice was hypnotic, instantly soothing you.

“Hi handsome. How did it go telling your family about dinner tomorrow night?”You absentmindedly chewed on your bottom lip, a terrible habit you developed when anxious.

“Fine. Natsuo and Fuyumi won’t be able to make it. Shouto’s still doing his internship with dad’s company so he’ll be late along with my mom since they carpool to work. My dad however insisted on driving with me. He’s very interested to size up the woman who might give him grandchildren one day. Has to make sure you’re up to his standards.”His lighthearted chuckle did nothing to calm the nerves caused by his terrible joke.

When you didn’t respond he continued, “Oh come on Y/N I’m only kidding. I know they’re going to fall in love the moment they make eye contact, just like I did.”

“God I hope so.” You sighed, “Although its not just me I’m worried about.”

As you were getting ready for bed there was a knock on your door. Looking through the peephole you spotted a beautiful set of cerulean eyes and your heart leaped. You opened the door, forgetting you were in a skimpy set of silk pajamas.

You practically jumped into him, bouncing on your tippy toes so you could snake your arms around his neck. He held you close, splaying his palms across your lower back before reaching down further to grab a handful of buttcheek.

“What are you doing here handsome? Shouldn’t you be at home? We have a big night tomorrow.” You leaned back so you could see his face but stayed in his grasp.

“I wanted to surprise you. When we were on the phone earlier you sounded like you were stressing out about dinner tomorrow. I thought I’d come by and.. distract you.”He held you at arms length and let his eyes wander down to your lips, then chest, legs, and back up to your face, taking his time to enjoy the view. “But it looks like you were already expecting me?” A cheeky grin split his face.

Just then, the realization that you were standing in the hallway in basically underwear hit and you turned, wiggling your booty at the man behind you before pulling him inside. The latch clicked into place and he used your hold on his hand to spin you so your back was against the door, placing his hand behind your head to cushion it from hitting the hard surface.

Your lips parted and a small yelp escaped. Touya pressed his body into yours, sliding his hand to the back of your neck, his other hand untangling from yours to join. He nipped at your bottom lip and then slowly traced his tongue across it before enveloping your mouth with his own. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, arching your body into his. His kisses started migrating to your jaw, and then down the side of your neck. You hummed, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. When his kisses went from feather light to opened mouthed your eyes shot open. You grabbed a handful of his hair at the nape and pulled his head away from your neck. A growl rumbled in his chest and the feral look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine.

“No marks! Dinner tomorrow.. remember?”Although you could kick yourself for stopping him, you knew you’d thank yourself in the morning. He rolled his eyes at you, letting out an exaggerated sigh and rolling his neck to add effect.

“Okay okay fine. I’ll just have to leave my mark in other ways then..” And with that he bent down and tossed you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, heading straight to the bedroom. He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed and began to take off his clothes. You leaned back on your elbows and laid there watching his movements. The way his muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head. His strong hands undoing the buckle on his belt to then pull down his pants so he was in nothing but boxer briefs. You pulled your lip between your teeth while you enjoyed the show.

With a cocky smile on his face he leaned over you on the bed, moving so his lips barely grazed your ear. “Are you going to undress or do you need me to do it for you?” The baritone of his voice vibrated down to your core, causing your panties to dampen.

You began to undress but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head against the bed. “It’s okay dollface. Let me do it for you.” He slid his hands down the length of your arms and down your sides stopping at the hem of your shirt. He pulled the fabric up over your head, your body lifting to assist the motion. He took a moment to admire you, slowly tracing your areola with his fingertips, one at a time, and watching them harden into perfect peaks. The action made goosebumps raise across your skin.

Once he was satisfied he moved to your lower half, hooking his fingers into the waistband of both your shorts and panties. Leaning in close to your body he began to pull the fabric down your legs, immediately noticing the string of your juices attached to your panties.

“Damn baby girl, is that all for me?”You recognized a hint of pride in his voice.

Smiling you nodded and squirmed a bit on the bed underneath him. “Mmm yes Touya. Its all for you.” There was no point in hiding the lust in your voice, It was useless to pretend you didn’t need him right now.

Once you were fully naked he grabbed you by the back of your knees and pushed your legs up, settling himself between them. He rested the side of his face on your inner thigh and examined you, grazing his fingers down towards your slit and the back again, never touching where you want him to. You felt so vulnerable in this position, everything splayed out for him to see, but he made you feel safe.

His eyes met yours as he continued his teasing touches. “You are so beautiful.”

His pupils were blown, just as you imagined yours were. Finally his index finger skimmed over your opening, gathering your juices, and found purchase on your clit, rubbing small circles into the little bundle of nerves.

You let out a moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back against the pillows. He turn his palm and slid his middle finger inside you rubbing his rough pads along your favorite spot. A heat began to collect in your core. “Eyes on me babygirl.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open as he continued his ministrations on your g-spot, adding another finger. Your hips bucked again and you began to whimper, you were getting close. He brought his face to your pussy, keeping his eyes on yours. You could feel the heat of his breath on your sensitive skin as his tongue slipped out to trace circles around your clit. Your hips started to wriggle vigorously until you were nearly riding his face. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, every so often to rubbing at the spot that he knew would have you seeing stars.

The heat grew, turning into a volcano about to errupt. Your hands grabbed at the sheets, balling into fists. “Touya.. Fuck- I’m gunnA-” But your words were cut off with a moan as you came undone. Your hips rose off the mattress and you squeezed your legs around his head. He ceased his movements, letting you ride out the wave of your climax.

Lost in a cloud of ecstasy. The release did wonders to calm your nerves. You opened your eyes trying to bring them back in focus. Suddenly you felt a tap tap on your leg and looked down. There sat Touya, head trapped in the fleshy prison of your thighs. You gasped and released him, sobering up from the orgasm he just gave you. “Oh my gosh Touya I’m so sorry!”

He chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “That’s quite alright dollface. If I died between those beautiful legs of yours I would die a happy man.” He placed a quick peck on your lips. “Besides, I know how you can make it up to me.”

Before you could register what was happening you were flipped onto your stomach and your ass was being lifted into the air. He started to rub his length along your slit, smearing your juices on the underside of his shaft. The sensation of his veiny cock rubbing your already sensitive pussy sends jolts of electricity through your body. You groan, grinding yourself back onto him.

“Mmm that feel good baby girl?” He smacks your hip, using his other hand to line himself up with your entrance. A hiss leaves his lips when he pushes himself into you, savoring the way you feel around him. He bottoms out and stills, rubbing tiny circles on your lower back. The stretch feels incredible. He fills you up perfectly, reaching to your deepest erogenous zone. His inaction starts to drive you crazy and you begin to bounce yourself on his cock.

He grabs your hips and leans over your body. “So impatient. Alright then, do you want me to start moving?”You try to grind against him but his grip is firm holding you in place.

“Use your words dollface. What is it you want me to do?”Even though you can’t see him you can hear the shit eating grin on his face.

You let out a whine. “Ple-ease Touya.. p-please move! Need to f-feeel you.”

He starts with shallow thrusts, barely enough to cause friction. You whimper burying your face into the comforter.

“Is this what you want baby girl? Huh?”His grip tightens, so much for no marks. At least its somewhere you can cover with clothes.

Tears of frustration collect at the corners of your eyes and you shake your head no. Another smack lads on your hip. “I said use your words.” This time the command came out in a growl. His thrusts, though still shallow, began to snap harder against you. You needed more.

“Harder please! Ple-ease go harder!” Your pleas were granted when he pulled almost all the way out and thrust into you hard. Once, twice, then sets a brutal pace, pounding into you. He reached forward and hooked his fingers into your mouth, causing droll to spill down your chin. You were a whimpering mess. Moans and grunts filled the apartment, volume raising as you both reached your peaks.

“Fuck- I’m close. Where do you want it baby?”His thrusts turned erratic. You were almost there too.

“Inside! Cum inside me!”Arousal had completely taken over your thoughts, your pussy was the one making the decisions now.

His hand left your mouth to find purchase around your neck, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. His other arm wrapped around your body, grabbing your opposite shoulder and pulling you into his thrusts. He released himself inside you moaning in your ear, the pressure sending you into climax once more.

The both of you sat there a moment, steadying your breathing.

“That was..”He began.

“Necessary.”You finished.

You’re the first one to arrive at the restaurant. It was a local place, family owned, making for an intimate setting. The host seats you and you wait for the others, pulling out your phone to check for any notifications. As you look up you spot your mom walking in, she looks anxious. She notices you and smiles, almost walking into someone on her way to your reserved table.

“Hi mom.” You say with a sympathetic smile, “You good?”You rub her back in an attempt to soothe her, thinking to yourself which one is the child again?

“Oh I’ll be fine, as soon as i get a drink.” She flags a server over and orders a cocktail. You drop your hand and sigh, hoping she sticks to her promise of only one.

When her drink arrives she takes a sip, “Aahh much better.” She sighs, smacking her lips.

“They should be here soon, if you wanted to save your one drink for when we get our food..”You watched her take another sip, or more like a gulp.

“Mmm yes, yes. You’re right.”A sense of relief washed over you as you watched her put the drink down.

Your server walked up to the table. “Hello I’m Sou, and I’ll be your server for the evening. Is there anything I can get started for you? Some bread?”

“Yes we’d love some bread, and can we have water for six please? We’re waiting for some more people to arrive.” You smiled at the man.

“Actually, could you point me in the direction of the little girls room?” Your mother asked rising out of her chair. He directed her to a hallway to the right of the table and your mom was off with a quick “Be right back!”

She disappeared into the hallway right as a man with bright red hair and very large in stature entered the restaurant. You knew who he was immediately, him having the same cerulean eyes as your boyfriend. Confirming your suspicion Touya walked in behind him. You stood up and waved them over to the table, not being able to control the smile beaming on your face.

Touya got to you first “Hey babe, you look stunning.” He reached a hand around your waist and kissed you on the cheek. Then he stepped back, giving his father room to approach you. Your stomach did a somersault.

“Dad, this is Y/N.”He kept his hand resting on the small of your back to help calm your nerves a bit.

“Hello Mr. Todoroki. Its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You held out your hand and it was soon engulfed by his much larger one.

“The pleasure is all mine Y/N I assure you.”He smiled, which somehow made him look more intimidating. “Touya, you didn’t mention how stunningly beautiful Y/N is.” You grinned, glancing at Touya who looked like he was going to pop a blood vessel trying not to roll his eyes.

“Lets sit. Y/N is your mom here yet?”Touya quickly changed the subject.

“Yes she’s here. Shes just in the ladies room, she should be out any minute.” Sou the server returns with a basket of bread and some waters.

“So Y/N, what do you do for a living?”Mr. Todoroki asks taking a sip of his water. You give Touya the side eye. This was a subject you were hoping to avoid, unsure if his father would approve of your line of work.

“I actually own my own business.” You feel Touya’s hand squeeze your knee under the table, encouraging you to continue. “I’m a salon owner. I have a shop on the other side of town. I started off behind the chair but with the salon as busy as it is now I only do hair one day a week. The rest of the time I’m running the business.”

Mr. Todoroki eyes you from across the table and your heart starts to palpitate. Shit. Is he disappointed?

“Ah! An entrepreneur. I’m always telling Touya in life a person needs to take risks, do what makes them happy. See Touya, you could learn a thing or two from this one.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Touya gives your hand another squeeze before letting go.

You begin sharing the ins and outs of the salon world when someone clears their throat to the right of you.

You look up to see your mom, frozen in place, all the blood drained from her face. “Mom?”You start to stand.

Touya and his father turn to greet her, but upon doing so Mr. Todoroki’s face drops and he can’t seem to find the words he was about to say.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Her words were like venom, and seemed to be directed toward the large man in front of her.

“Mom what are you talking about?”You try to laugh off your moms behavior, “This is Touya and his father Mr.-”

“Enji Todoroki.”She sounded furious. You looked to your boyfriend, relieved to see he was just as confused as you were.

“Do.. you two know each other?”Touya asked hesitantly.

Mr. Todoroki finally spoke. “Mira, I-”He looked at you, studied your face, then over to his son, and back to you.

“Oh.. oh no.”

“Can someone please tell us what the hell is going on?”Touya’s volume was raising in irritation.

“This..is all my fault.”You mother said before grabbing her purse and running out of the restaurant.

“Mom!” You called after her, but she was gone.

Anger and confusion rose inside you. The evening started off perfectly, of course your mom would be the one to ruin it. But how did she know Touya’s dad? You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer to that question.

“I..” Mr. Todoroki looked at you, his face unreadable. “I can’t be here.”He too got up and left the restaurant with haste.

“Dad!” Touya called after him, then looked at you. “Do you know what all that was about?”

“I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.”You grabbed your phone out of your purse to call your mom, but just as you unlocked the screen a text message came in, and then another.

Mom<3: I know you’re probably confused, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way..

Mom<3: I don’t know how else to tell you, so I’ll just show you. I only have one picture of your father, and it was taken the night before I found out I was pregnant.

An attachment followed the texts and when you opened it you felt your heart fall out of your butt.

It was a picture of your mom in a skin tight dress with a drink in her hand, she was laughing and leaning into the arms of a much larger man with fiery red hair and cerulean eyes. Your father. Enji Todoroki.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus Scene (that no one asked for):

Slowly you turned to see the same look of trauma on your boyfriends face. He had been reading her texts over your shoulder, and he already knew the story of your father.

Nausea overtook you. You couldn’t speak. You dropped your phone on the table with the picture still open and the two of you sat there staring at each other.

“Touya?”A young man with split colored hair broke the silence. You both turned to look at him.

“Shou..”Touya addressed his youngest brother in a daze.

“What’s wrong?”Shouto asked, then glancing at the phone on the table he added, “Is that dad?”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x reader #i am so sorry #female reader #reader insert #mha smut #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha lemon #mha lemon #dabi lemon #touya todoroki lemon #eyebagsbutglam #eyebagsbutglam writings

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Photo

I know I’ve posted this one before, but what the hell. It’s Johnny and one of my favs :D

-o-o-o-

John Tracy was sick.

Which meant John Tracy wasn’t allowed to go home.

Sure, he could say that he was home, but it didn’t really feel like home. It was full of brothers and people he loved, but it didn’t feel like home.

Home was among the stars.

But apparently astronauts with the flu weren’t allowed to go home.

“It won’t be for long, John. It will be over before you know it.” Virgil was kind and reassuring, but it didn’t really help.

He wanted to go home.

He was determined to work, of course. Until Scott caught him and cut him off.

There were some loud words over that, but the medical department of IR (aka Virgil) sided with the command department (aka Scott) and yeah, he was grounded, cut off from his ‘bird, holed up in his room and miserable.

Of course, his brothers attempted to cheer him up. Alan dumped himself on his bed chattering away with his latest game, all eager enthusiasm. Gordon brought him a pet crab. Even cared for it for him. John was left wondering if it was a snarky metaphor as the crab sat under a rock all day and had a distinct grumpy appearance.

Virgil and Scott were more subtle, but no less caring. Scott ran ideas past him for communications improvements. Piano music and the occasional piece of art found its way into his rooms uninvited.

He appreciated it. Truly, he did.

He just wanted to go home.

The morning he woke up with a cat sleeping on his chest was the last straw.

“C’mon, guys. You know I’m allergic to cats. Are your trying to kill me?” He held the cat out at arm’s length just waiting for his nasal passages to swell up. Though at this point considering his condition, he wasn’t really sure he would notice.

The cat meowed pitifully at him.

Virgil frowned.

Scott arched an eyebrow.

Gordon looked guilty....but then he always looked guilty. John was sure it was an inbuilt survival strategy.

Alan was cooing at the cat and reaching out to scratch it under the chin.

It was an orange stripy thing with big whiskers and that ragdoll floppiness all cats sported.

“Gordon?” Scott’s arched eyebrow was now pointed at the aquanaut.

“What are you looking at me for? I got him the crab, why would I get him a cat? The cat will eat the crab.” Gordon frowned at John. “Don’t let the cat eat the crab.”

Not a sentence John had ever predicted hearing in his lifetime.

“Can someone please take this thing?” He held out the cat even further.

Virgil, still frowning, gently collected the cat from John’s hands and automatically curled it up in his arms. A finger scratched under its chin.

“Thank you. I’m going back to bed.”

And he did.

The next time he woke, a pair of green feline eyes were staring at him, the cat, once again, curled up on his chest.

What?

It meowed at him and poked his nose with a paw.

“Virgil!”

He must have yelled a little too much because next minute his big brother barrelled into the room, panic on his face. “John, what the-?!”

His eyes landed on the cat and his shoulders literally sagged. “Goddamnit, that’s where you are. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Virgil reached to pick up the cat.

The cat turned from mild mannered bed companion to spitting and screeching demon within a blink. Virgil yelped and fell backwards, his feet slipping on the mat and his butt hitting the floor with a crash.

One of John’s telescopes teetered before tipping ever so slowly. Virgil saw it and struggled to catch it. “Shiiit!” He threw himself in its path and the four-foot metal cylinder landed in his lap.

There was an oomph and Virgil was flat on his back on the floor.

Demon cat kneaded John’s chest a little before settling once more.

It began to purr.

“Virgil? You okay?”

His brother grunted and John struggled out of bed, shoving the cat out of the way. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” It was up an octave higher than normal. “Sorry about your telescope.”

John grabbed the telescope off his brother and righted it. It was his own fault for leaving it there in the first place. Stargazing from bed was a habit much more easily exercised on TB5.

Virgil waved off his offered hand and rolled over, pushing himself to his feet with another grunt. He eyed the cat with suspicion. “I thought we had an understanding, Bagel.”

The cat eyed Virgil with equal suspicion.

“Bagel?”

“Gordon claims it is your cat so needs a John name.”

“A John name?”

“Yeah, Bagel it is.”

“It’s not my cat! And where did it come from anyway?” John frowned at Virgil. “Another stowaway on Two.”

“No! You know we have sensors for that now. And besides, that was only once.”

“Twice.”

“Once. The polar bear doesn’t count.”

“The polar bear most assuredly does count. Alan still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Really?”

“It was a polar bear, Virgil.”

“Yeah, well, that is your cat.”

“That is not my cat.”

“Apparently she has decided she is yours.” Virgil held up his hands. Several scratches decorated his skin. “I have enough of these already. She’s yours.”

“I’m allergic.”

Virgil peered up at him, brown eyes assessing. “You don’t appear to be suffering a reaction. She’s been gone for hours. If she has been here, on your chest all that time, you should be showing the affects. All I can see is the remains of your flu.” A frown. “Are you feeling any better?”

It was John’s turn to frown. He had almost forgotten he was ill, but now his attention returned to his body, the signs were clear.

But he was feeling a little better.

“A little.”

Virgil reached up and squeezed his arm. “Good. You hungry?”

A brief consultation with his stomach and he realised that yes, he was. “Yes, I think so.”

A smile spread over his brother’s face. “Great. You’re on the mend.” Another squeeze of his arm and Virgil turned towards the door. “Meet you in the kitchen. Scott went all out this morning and made pancakes. I stashed you some. Gotta grab them before Gordon discovers them.”

“FAB.” John couldn’t help but return his brother’s smile.

Virgil grinned and with a half-hearted groan rubbed his butt and staggered with some exaggeration out the door. “Don’t forget your cat.”

John turned back to stare at the ginger monstrosity still sitting on his bed, calmly grooming.

“Bagel, is it?”

The cat blinked and kept licking its fur.

John sighed and grabbed his clothes.

-o-o-o-

The cat followed him downstairs for the meal, which turned out to be dinner. He had managed to sleep the day away. Apparently, this was a good thing, because for the first time in days, he could move without creaking.

Virgil had indeed stashed pancakes and within minutes there was a short stack piled up in front of him complete with ice cream and maple syrup. Before he even bothered to acknowledge the envy emanating from Gordon across the other side of the table, the stack began to disappear.

Scott knew how to make pancakes. John considered his big brother’s purpose in life and came to the immediate conclusion that it should be IR, family and pancakes.

Of course, pancakes could be a subset of family if considered that way, but there was always the possibility of him opening a business as a pancake chef.

Blink.

Yes, the flu had obviously taken part of his brain with it.

A pair of blue eyes and two pairs of brown were staring at him.

“What?”

“Did you bother to breathe between bites, bro?” Gordon gestured with his head at the table.

John looked down and found his plate empty. “Guess I was hungry. Scott makes great pancakes.”

“Yes, he does.” Virgil plonked a glass of orange juice in front of him and took away his sticky plate. “Now drink your juice and we’ll set up for family movie.”

“Aren’t you guys going to eat?”

“Already eaten.” Scott was poking at his phone, holograms bouncing around above it. “Grandma made meatloaf surprise again.”

John choked on his juice. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Scott did look a little green around the gills.

Well, that explained the envy on Gordon’s face and why Alan was very absent.

“Anyone feed the youngest?”

“All under control.” Virgil chucked Gordon a celery crunch bar and the aquanaut grabbed it from the air.

It was devoured faster than John’s pancakes.

Virgil wandered back into the kitchen proper and soon there was the delicious smell of hot popcorn wafting through the room. The engineer walked past the table again and dumped a chocolate bar in front of Scott. Another one landed in front of John.

“Consider it a survivor’s reward.” Virgil grabbed Scott’s phone out of his hand.

“Hey!”

“Stop working, this is family time. Everything can wait a couple of hours.”

Scott glared at his brother, but grabbed the chocolate bar and capitulated anyway.

Probably because he knew Virgil was right. It was so easy to get absorbed with International Rescue business. John knew he was a fantastic example case of such a syndrome.

A sigh.

Scott glanced up at him. “How are you doing, John?” A smirk. “How’s Bagel?”

As if beckoned, the cat in question suddenly leapt up on to the table and stalked the length of it towards Scott. John’s eyes widened as his eldest brother was targeted by a feline glare of epic proportions.

Scott’s expression was quite an amusing mixture and defiance and terror. Bagel sat down in front of him and after a moment of intense eyeballing decided Scott was boring and started washing herself.

“That is one weird cat, John.”

Everyone jumped as Bagel shot to her feet and dashed across the table at Gordon. “Holy crap!” The aquanaut scrambled backwards as Bagel ran at him. He tangled his feet in the stool he was sitting on and with a crash, ended up on the floor.

“Ow.”

Reaching the edge of the table, Bagel stopped and peered down at the fallen Thunderbird and, apparently deciding Gordon was no more interesting than Scott, sat down and returned to grooming.

The remaining three vertical brothers stared at each other and the cat.

No one said a thing.

“Uh, can someone give me a hand up, here?” Gordon vaguely waved an arm about and Virgil edged around the table to help his brother up.

His eyes barely left Bagel.

“Has anyone fed the cat?” John threw the question in there as a bit of an icebreaker since said cat had frozen the room almost solid.

Bagel looked up and stared at John for a moment before jumping to her feet and ambling over. A simple step off the table and she was in his lap, circling for moment to find a comfortable spot, then curling up and purring.

Again, everyone was staring at the orange fluff ball, John included.

“You have a very strange cat.” Apparently, Gordon hadn’t learnt from his earlier experience, but fortunately, Bagel ignored him this time.

John stared down at the purring ball of fur.

Yes, it seems he did.

-o-o-o-

Despite the possessed cat, the rest of the night went very well. All five brothers plus Kayo threw down some pillows, curled up in front of the holoprojector and waded through a trashy b-grade movie that looked like they were using mannequins for actors and plastic models for set pieces. There was popcorn, laughter and loving family. John felt warm and relaxed and better than he had in days. Somewhere between action scenes, he drifted off to the tinny soundtrack and the sound of his brothers criticising the special effects.

“Johnny?” It was whispered “Johnny, you’ve got to move or you’ll end up with one hell of a neckache.”

A blink and he found himself looking at Virgil upside down. Wha-?

“C’mon, bro. Up you get.” And his brother was lifting him up. Another blink and he realised he was lying on one of the couches...almost upside down, his feet at an angle above his head with his head hanging off the seat cushion. He was far too long for the piece of furniture and, apparently, he had stretched in his sleep.

Virgil was shifting his shoulders into a more horizontal position. Beyond him, the holoprojector was listing all the languages the movie was available in, complete with appropriate copyright warnings. Idly he noted that the Hungarian translation had an error in the third line.

John let his feet drop to the end of the couch before folding up enough to force himself upright. Ugh, Virgil was right. His neck cricked and creaked along with his spine. God, gravity was a nasty piece of work. It had also apparently dribbled all the mucus in his body into his head. His skull protested at the pressure as he sat up and he groaned.

“John?”

Why did everyone think Scott was the worry wart of the family? Virgil with his medical radar was just as bad, if not worse. “I’m fine. Just a head full of snot.” Ugh. Right between his eyeballs, throbbing to the beat of his heart. “Just kill me now.”

Suddenly there was an orange cat in his face, staring.

“What? Bagel, not now.” He gently picked up the cat and put her on the couch beside him. Where the hell had she come from anyway?

A pitiful meow was her response and she edged nearer brushing her cheek against his arm.

Despite himself, he turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with a combination of adoration and haughtiness. He had no idea what to make of that expression.

Of course, she was a cat. Who understood cats?

“Are you two having a moment?” His brother’s smiling baritone broke the silence and to John’s surprise, Bagel turned to Virgil and hissed angrily.

His big brother took a hurried step back.

“Bagel! Leave him alone! He will never hurt you. For goodness sake, Virgil wouldn’t hurt a fly. Give him some respect.”

To his complete surprise, Bagel stopped hissing immediately. She turned to him almost a question on her face before once again looking at Virgil. Her head dropped and stared at the floor.

“What the hell?” It was little more than breath and all his big brother. Virgil was staring at Bagel, his brow crumpling into a deep frown.

Bagel’s head shot up and once again she was staring at Virgil.

Virgil’s frown got even deeper.

“John where did you get this cat from?”

“I told you, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Virgil continued his staring contest with the cat.

“What is it?” His brother’s expression was becoming unnerving, so suddenly determined, it was almost fierce.

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Keep her out of sensitive areas for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Bagel continued to stare at Virgil.

Virgil continued to stare at Bagel.

A solid moment passed and then his brother was shaking his head, looking at his feet, looking at John. “You good to make it up to your rooms?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to go hunt down Scott. One of the TI directors in the States forgot the time zones. He’s been on the phone for half an hour already.” Virgil sighed.

“Need backup?”

“No.” A hand dropped to John’s shoulder. “You go to bed, you need it. I’ve got this.” The hand disappeared and Virgil climbed out of the lounge, heading towards the balcony.

Bagel was licking her paw.

John sighed. Perhaps some paracetamol would help. “C’mon, Bagel, apparently, you’re with me.” He picked her up and held her against his chest as he staggered to his feet. Cursed gravity. How he missed being able to make the smallest movements and coast across a room.

Bagel reached her head up and snuggled under his chin, her purr vibrating his sternum.

“Why me?” It was little more than an exhaled breath and he wasn’t sure it was a complaint or an actual question.

In either case, Bagel didn’t answer. She just purred into his chest.

So, it remained a mystery for another night.

-o-o-o-

“It just appeared. No trace on sensors, nothing. It’s as if it didn’t exist before the day before yesterday.”

Virgil’s puzzled voice echoed up the stairs as John approached the kitchen the next morning. He glanced at his watch. This was early for his brother; he usually wasn’t up for another hour at least.

“I’m telling you, Scott, there is something very strange about that cat.”

John paused at the top of the stairs, his hands curled around Bagel, gently scratching her under the chin. He had awoken again with her on his chest, but unlike the previous two incidents, he had found himself surprisingly comforted with her presence.

Her purring was strangely calming.

“I will admit she is quite volatile.” Scott’s voice was surprisingly reluctant. “She didn’t even take to Gordon. Every living creature takes to Gordon. Except lizards, I guess. Hell, she doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just it. She doesn’t act like a cat.”

“What, just because she doesn’t like you?”

“I’m sorry, Scott. Something just doesn’t feel right. Why is she so attached to John? What if she is a plant after our technology?”

“A tech seeking cat? Really?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time an animal has been used for espionage.”

Scott sighed and John shifted, attempting to loosen the tense muscles in his shoulders.

“It’s just that John appears to have latched onto Bagel as much as the cat has to him. How often does John attach to anybody?”

“And that’s what scares me the most. What happens when he returns to TB5? He can’t take a cat with him. It wouldn’t be safe for either of them.”

“Then we look after Bagel for him.”

It was Virgil’s turn to sigh and it was a worried one.

John chose that moment to make his entrance. He stepped lightly down the stairs. “You two really do worry far too much.”

Both brothers started as he entered. The guilty expressions on their faces were quite amusing.

“Virgil, if you are worried about Bagel, scan her.” John held the cat out to his brother. “Take her up to the infirmary and run her through a thorough physical. In fact, I would prefer if you did since as you said, I have become somewhat attached to her. As to what we are going to do when I return to Five...” He shrugged. “I hope we can work something out.”

Virgil managed to look both apologetic and sad.

To John’s astonishment, Bagel wriggled out of his grip and jumped down to the floor. She ambled over to Virgil. His brother froze, obviously wary, but the cat gently brushed up against his leg and rubbed the length of her body across his boots.

The whole room stared.

“Good morning, Bagel.” Virgil’s voice was a little breathless.

“Good morning, Virgil.” The whole room jumped as Brains jogged down the stairs and passing them, bee-lined for the fridge.

“‘Morning, Brains, John.” Gordon wandered in from the pool rubbing a towel through his hair. “Yaargh! What the hell, Virgil. You gone to the cat side?” He took several steps back as he caught sight of Bagel.

Bagel, still wrapped around Virgil’s ankles, turned towards Gordon and spat at him.

“That damn cat is possessed.” The aquanaut made sure the table was between him and the feline.

Bagel glared at him, following with her eyes.

“Eos, I know G-Gordon can b-be a challenge, b-but really, h-he is a good man.” Brains was pouring milk into his cereal on the bench.

“Yes, but he is so annoying.” The AI’s voice bounced across the house’s comm system.

“He st-still deserves r-respect.”

The comm system grunted.

Every eye in the room stared at the engineer.

Gordon found his voice first. “Wow, Brains, thanks.”

John was staring at Bagel. “Eos what do you know about Bagel?”

“Oh, John, everything.” The little imp was so smug.

Two strides and John was beside Virgil. Reaching down, he snagged Bagel off the floor and held her up, his eyes raking over the cat. A moment of intense examination. Bagel stared back at him calmly.

“Okay, how did you do it?”

“Do what, John?”

“Do not mess with me, Eos. I want answers and I want them now.”

“Hiram helped me.”

“Helped you do what?” Scott’s voice was sharp. “Brains?”

“It was a v-very interesting challenge.”

“What did you do, Brains?” Commander Tracy stood up from the table, his height saying everything it needed to.

Brains didn’t notice.

“Oh, Eos had an e-excellent idea to equip Thunderbird F-Five with an internal m-mobile probe mechanism.

“Yes, something that could get into the spaces John cannot.” Still smug. Oh, there would be some serious talking at a later time.

“So, you built a cat.” Virgil’s eyes were wide.

Brains sipped his orange juice, still seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. “She didn’t think I could. So, I did.” He was definitely pleased with himself.

“You built a cat?” Gordon was an echo of his brother. “That cat?” He stabbed a finger in Bagel’s direction.

“Yes?” Finally, the man appeared to realise that something was amiss. “I’m v-very happy with the r-results. It performs v-very well.”

It certainly did. John had her under his arm and found himself scratching her under her chin despite everything.

He forced himself to stop.

“John?”

“Yes, Eos?”

“Do you like her?” Suddenly he was a parent faced with his child’s school science project and the need for approval.

Some science project.

“I like her, Eos.”

“Can we keep her?”

“That is yet to be decided.” It came out firm. It needed to be firm...even though he already knew the answer.

“But-“

“Eos, why didn’t you tell us Bagel wasn’t really a cat?”

“But she is...”

“Eos.”

“John...”

“Eos!”

“I missed you.”

He froze. “I’m right here.”

“But it’s not the same.” That was a definite whine. “You’re not with me. It gets lonely up here without you. So, I built a way to be down there with you.” Bagel rubbed her cheek against his hand.

“Eos is in the cat?” Gordon’s jaw may as well have been on the floor. “She hates me that much?!”

“I don’t hate you, Gordon. You are quite funny. Somewhat clumsy, but funny.”

“Eos.”

“Yes, John?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

No answer.

“Brains, why didn’t you tell us?” Commander Tracy was glaring at the engineer.

“T-Tell you what?”

“About Eos and the cat.”

“That would have r-ruined the experiment.”

“What?”

“Eos w-wanted to see if the f-feline programming was sufficient. The b-best way to do that was test it.”

“On us?” Gordon spouted outrage.

“Surprisingly only V-Virgil appears to have b-been concerned. I w-would be interested to hear your evaluation.”

“Sure.” Virgil appeared to still be processing. Probably attempting to work out exactly how Brains had pulled it off.

“Brains, you, Eos, John and I are going to have a serious conversation.” Scott’s voice was stern. “This is not happening again. This family is not an experimental lab.”

“It was not his fault, Commander.”

Scott arched an eyebrow up at the ceiling. “Really, Eos? I have no doubt that John has a few choice words to be said on this matter.” Oh, yes, choice and many. “In the meantime, please cease the experiment.”

“But-“

“Eos.”

“Very well.”

The cat in John’s arms went completely limp.

He couldn’t help it; a gasp passed his lips and he caught the sudden dead weight with both hands. “Eos!”

All life had left Bagel. She became nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Something inside him lurched horribly.

Every eye in the room was staring at him.

“John?” Virgil’s eyes flashed concern.

He gathered up the cat in his arms and gently placed her on the seat of one of the kitchen chairs.

So real. He shivered.

“You okay?” His big brother was suddenly beside him.

“That was unnerving.” Both of them stared at the immobile TB5 internal remote probe mechanism.

“Eos, can you please reactivate Bagel.”

“Virgil-“

“No, Scott. Too creepy, too real. Please, just...leave her be.”

To John’s surprise, Scott didn’t protest.

But Bagel didn’t move.

“Eos?” His own voice sounded hollow in his ears.

“Yes, John?”

“Please reactivate Bagel.”

“Why?”

“Eos, just please.”

“Very well.”

And Bagel uncurled herself, sat up and glared at Scott. Before Eos could exact any form of petulant revenge, he grabbed Bagel off the chair and held her in his arms.

“Thank you, Eos.”

“You are very welcome.” Impertinent little brat.

“Now, I’m going to have breakfast, then we are going to have that conversation.”

“Yes, John.”

Something in the room snapped and suddenly everyone went back to their morning routine with only the occasional stare at the cat in his arms.

“Would you like some cereal, John?” Virgil was heading towards the fridge.

“You don’t have to get me breakfast, Virgil.”

“You have your hands full and I’ve already had mine.”

“How early were you up this morning?”

“Early enough. Your cat weirded me out.”

Bagel was rubbing her cheek against his fingers again. He grabbed a chair and sat himself down, placing Bagel on the chair beside him. She started grooming herself quite content.

A bowl was placed in front of him, followed by a cereal box, milk and another glass of orange juice.

Bagel stared up at him

He shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

The cat tilted her head and licked her whiskers.

And he knew that somewhere far above the planet his daughter was laughing.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #sorry

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alessabriel · 3 years

Text

Y/n knows how to handle the drunk side of Jakurai.

Character: Jakurai Jinguji. Warnings: None.

I am so graceful to see how Jakurai changes completely when he is drunk, it is like a duality; on the sober side it is super quiet and on the drunk side (it doesn't always happen) it is totally advantageous, shameless and super energetic to say it in some way and I came up with the super idea of: it has a couple; And that handles him very well when he's drunk and that's almost like a super power on his own.

Anyway, here we go!

The fresh breeze from the cold heating hit your face when you left your office, a chill ran through you at that but you downplayed it and adjusted your jacket over your body. You gave a little goodbye to the people who got off the elevator before her, they were nice people and certainly efficient in their work. For a few moments you thought about actually transferring Kannonzaka Doppo to this branch, however you could almost hear the self-deprecating speech that he would release, perhaps if there were vacancies and you offered it out of nowhere, I could accept.

It was a thought for another time.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped out of the elevator into the building's underground parking lot. It was tiring to be honest, but that your office was on the top floor was not the best thing in the world, but there was a good point for it because of the incredible view from one of the top floors of the building. You followed the path to your black car and with the keys in hand you deactivated the alarm listening with pleasure the slight beep of it and once close you opened the door leaving your work bag on the passenger seat, just seeing it reminded you that it was a gift from your partner when you were promoted at work. He was useful, cute and practical and you loved him with all your soul, although you loved him more in those moments because he was empty of jobs. Once inside your car you closed the door, being just a few minutes away from turning it on, your cell phone rang and you almost wanted to ignore it but something in your chest told you no, so with a weary sigh you looked for your cell phone in your bag finding it and admired for a few seconds the name of one of your partner's division partners; Jakurai Jinguji, you took it without thinking further, modifying it to place it on the car support and Kannonzaka's voice flooded the silence of the car.

"Doppo-kun, is something wrong?"

You heard with some doubt how the redhead behind the call seemed to whisper things before hearing accelerated footsteps running away from something, it was strange but considering that Matenro were always in the middle of solving cases it was not so strange or abnormal, but if something worrisome and ates After hearing Doppo's endless apologies, you went ahead, without taking your eyes off how you left the parking lot.

"No problem calling me Doppo-kun it just seems strange to me from what I remember. Jakurai told me that they would have dinner together tonight" you explained calmly.

"If we actually had dinner together Y / n-san b-but something happened and we need her right now, I don't think he can drink more and Jakurai-sensei is more energetic like that. Come on please Y / n-san!

With a tired exhale you turned on the turn signal to redirect you to Hifumi Izanami's department, I could bet that he had been the reckless one to pressure Jakurai to drink even though he always refused to do so.

"It was Hifumi-kun again, correct?" you questioned with slight regret as you entered the correct lane for Hifumi's department.

"Yes Y / n-san, I only got distracted for a few minutes to look for something to bring you some dinner when Sensei left and when I came back Hifumi had strained alcohol" you could hear the slight fatigue of the Doppo and you felt a little bad, it was the only completely sane to put it in some way.

"I'm going there and for the moment hide in your room and turn off the lights, if Hifumi-kun gave him alcohol, let him deal with it. Is it okay Doppo-kun? Quiet alone, it could be said that it is more, like free and somewhat childish , it's not so bad when you manage to handle it well "

"Thank you Y / n-san"

You hung up and continued your journey to Hifumi's apartment, you managed to see how your partner's car was there and you just smiled. You knew that something like this would happen sooner or later in these days off that Jakurai had. It was not annoying but they were always afraid of the other side of your lover, when in reality it was just an exaggeration of the more hidden side of him and it was at some point liberating for the fact that he was very repressed even in rap battles. You put all those thoughts aside and parked right behind your partner's car, getting out making sure to set the alarm. Hifumi and Doppo's apartment building was nice, before going up to the apartment you bought something from the vending machine which was a cold cranberry juice that was super bitter. that would do.

The journey to his apartment was quick and once you knocked in front of the door, almost immediately a redhead opened the door, ushering you in with a bang. Before you could greet Doppo you heard Hifumi's shriek accompanied by Jakurai's voice, it was funny to see him like that.

"Y / n-chan!"

You advanced until you were in front of him and before you gave in to him to hug you, you placed the cranberry juice on his cheek listening to the hiss that emitted from the cold of the can on your partner's cheek. It was both funny and strange to see him like this, so whiny and it was a shame that Doppo had to deal with it and even Hifumi even though he himself had been the culprit.

"Have you been drinking Jinguji?"

Instantly Jakurai's expression fell a little, showing to your eyes dejected almost with his tail between his legs, even though he was drunk he knew that he could not disobey you because getting too drunk meant that his voice could be damaged and with it he helped people. Simply only you managed to make him see reason when he was drunk.

"Just a little love"

You swept Hifumi's apartment with your eyes and noticed several bottles scattered around the living room, the social pressure was not very good on your partner. You only let out a sigh before speaking.

"Upstairs we will go home and you will take a good bath with cold water, go out into the hall"

Before the tallest one could say anything, your severe gaze and pursed lips assured him that the hangover would be silent, therefore Jakurai slightly downcast went out the door struggling a bit to put on his shoes but you ignored him before starting to look for his sweater, phone and other things, you received help from the two remaining in the room.

"I only ask you not to make him drink, when he refuses it is not because he does not want to drink with you ... This is why" you explained seriously to Hifumi when you were already at the entrance of the apartment holding your partner's belongings.

"If we're sorry Y / n-san, we won't do it again"

You couldn't be mad at it since even despite the hostile side of Hifumi and others, they were good friends to be honest.

"Good night and rest, don't forget to have something for your hangover"

With that last goodbye you left the apartment to the ground floor by the stairs where Jakurai was drinking the cranberry juice with a frown, it was a strange and energetic drink that you knew he did not like but it mattered little to you, that would lower his alcohol and you could not scold him more for how he held the can with both hands and his slightly rosy cheeks. It was cute and it was a relief that he listened to you.

"Come on let's go big boy"

Jakurai even in the haze of alcohol could detect the soft, sweet and floral aroma of her as well as her hands were as soft as anything, it seemed like silk against her hands and she only clung to her, at times like this she could only let herself be carried away by her. He loved her and prayed to heaven to always be with her, from moments like this until when the ring kept in her office at her house was perched on your ring finger and they were engaged.

Only you could handle it at any time...

personally I really liked that gif and so uwu ✨🌺

#hypmic x reader #jakurai jinguji x reader #hypmic #hypnosis mic x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic x y/n #jakurai x reader #matenro #hypnosis mic x t/n

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xmyshya · 3 years

Text

Shoved it: chapter II - Ollie

summary: You don’t like skaters. They’re unruly, misbehaved and rude. But this one encounter just might change your view. genre: fluff warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (seriously, make a dentist appointment), slow burn, mutual pining betas: @vanille–kiss as always I’m eternally grateful to you, I love you lots a/n: Written for ANILYSIUM (former HQHQ) Server Collab with the prompt “Meet Ugly”. Check the event’s masterlist here! series navi: masterlist | previous | next wc: 1.5k

It’s a nightmare. Everything must be just a bad dream, and soon you’re going to wake up. No more invading your sleep. No more being watched and followed through the halls. No more running, no more hiding, no more irritation.

But here’s the thing - it’s reality. And the Prince Charming from your nightly illusions still has those half-lidded olive eyes; the same eyes that meet yours at school and observe your every move. He’s everywhere you go, behind every corner, on every floor. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in your closet.

Obviously it’s an exaggeration. While it’s true that you notice him more often than not, he’s also much taller than other students. His little circle of friends consists of really handsome boys, causing a commotion and squealing of the girls surrounding them. But, much to your dismay, he notices you just as much.

@mikYou know people like him. You know boys like him. Misbehaved jerks, thinking the world revolves around them and rules are meant to be broken; convinced that one smile is enough to make any girl fall in love with them, only to break their heart. But you, you’re not a part of this world, you refuse to be, and you want nothing to do with him.

Unfortunately, the stalker (as you like to call him) not only dares to smile and wink at you, but tries to approach you. So far you’ve managed to avoid him, spotting his messy brown hair towering over swarming students. This time, however, you failed to notice until it was too late. Until he had you trapped between his arms, your back against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing, punk?!” You spit in his face, earning a tsk from the boy.

“Do I look like a punk to you?”

You want to retort, you really do, but the intensity of his gaze makes you open and close your mouth, like a fish thrown out of the ocean.

“Suna.”

“What?”

“I figured you didn’t know my name. Suna Rintarou.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He doesn’t know why you seem to hate him so much and it drives him mad. At first, Suna only wanted to really apologise for the incident, his conscience still clawing at him. Somewhere along the way it shifted into something more mischievous; seeing you blush and making a run for it giving him a fair amount of entertainment.

Initially you manage to win this game of cat and mouse, your average height being your biggest ally in hiding in the crowd. It certainly doesn’t help that other students tend to concentrate around him, and you’re long gone before he even scrambles out of the group. But he never misses the heat blossoming on your cheeks when he sends a wink in your direction.

Today might be Rin’s lucky day though. Most of the other teenagers are already gone, the halls pleasantly quiet and empty. You’re walking in front of him alone, and he’s sure you aren’t aware of the boy behind you.

He’s never been so grateful for his silent footsteps, or maybe you’re just too spaced out, because he sneaks up on you and pins you to the wall. Once more you look up at him with those big shiny eyes that make his stomach feel tingly, and maybe this time you’ll let him get closer…

Again, all he’s offered is baseless hostility, even in exchange for his name. You’re slipping through his fingers, at one moment being trapped between his arms, between his body and the wall, and in the next walking away. Not bothering to introduce yourself. Not sparing him even a glance.

***

Suna has another problem and this one is more urgent - he’s failing a class. In a sense, it’s his own fault for being late or even completely missing it. In his defense, it was in the morning, it was boring and unnecessary in his life, and he had so much other stuff to do. He can’t let it hold him back, not when he’s so close to being free.

The teacher was kind enough to give him a piece of paper containing the name and available hours of his potential saviour. Such a drag, he thinks but still walks towards the classroom where his tutor should be. Two knocks on the doorframe, but the girl inside is still turned back.

“Excuse me, I’m here for tutoring?”

His heart is hammering in his chest when the person turns towards him and it’s… you.

The weather is nice, it’s not hot despite the sun shining brightly, the cloudless sky has the most beautiful shade of blue. Gentle breeze rustles the leaves, birds chirp a song only they know. You can only admire it all from the window, having agreed to rescuing those in educational need.

You don’t mind, not really, as long as they put in some effort. There are some who just come and demand, those who don’t listen and claim to not understand anything later. You hope your next case won’t be one of these.

A deep voice brings you back to reality, a voice so familiar that it gives you goosebumps. You turn to look at your new student and for a second you think that if a headache had a human form, it would be him.

***

“Why do you hate me so much?”

The boy in front of you still stares at the problem at hand, spinning a pen between his fingers. You sigh.

“This is not a subject of our meetings.”

Now his olive eyes are focused on you, awaiting an answer he isn’t going to receive. You have no intention of entertaining this attempt at whatever it is.

“I’m not as bad as you think.”

“Why do you even care what I think?”

Rin only shrugs.

“Okay, could you please help me with this? I’m stuck.”

***

Contrary to your idea, Suna isn’t a hopeless case. He understands things quickly, without the need of repeating the same explanations over and over again. What bothers you is the amount of material you have to go through, because of his absences. With test retakes approaching quickly, you meet for sessions twice a week.

There isn’t much off-topic chatter, the scribbling of pen on paper being the only sound filling the room in between his questions. It’s comfortable and effective, and soon you feel at ease in his company.

In the third week of project “Ace the test”, as you jokingly call it, Rintarou greets you with a range of differently flavoured jelly sticks.

“You can take all of them, or just the ones you like.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Why?”

“Because you’re staying after hours for me, and I don’t know how to repay you.”

You blush as you mumble “simple thank you would have been enough”, but in the end reach for three that taste like your favourite fruits. Suna smiles and commits your choice to his memory.

After that the boy makes sure to bring something in one of those flavours to your meetings - yoghurts, juices, chocolate bars with fillings, everything he could find. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture; it was sweet of him to bring you something as a compensation for your time and efforts.

It’s even cuter when on one particularly rough day after seeing your stressed frown, he dumps a whole bag on the desk. Upon opening you discover that it’s filled with your best-loved snacks; he must have been observing you closely and the realisation turns your cheeks into little furnaces.

There’s no way you can keep ignoring him now, and starting with the next day, you greet him with a small smile and a blush when you pass each other in the halls.

Rin is surprised at how easily the solutions come to his head after your little lectures. You have a way with words, your directions are simple and engaging, and he’s sure he wouldn’t have missed a single class if you were the teacher. He wonders if this is your plan for the future.

One of the discoveries he makes, partially by accident, is that you like silence; at least with a task like this at hand. Suna isn’t talkative which makes it easier, and the more he focuses on modules, the less tense you seem to be. Bingo.

Social interactions are usually tiring and Rintarou doesn’t bother with exhausting things. He prefers observing from the sidelines, watching the gestures and reactions they cause. Food, the boy realises, brings the most smiles. But since he doesn’t know your preferences at all, he’s going to start with what he’s familiar with.

Success has many faces. In this case, success has your blushing face as you grab jelly sticks he brought for you. Suna makes sure to remember which one you chose, and to always have something in one of those flavours. If this is how he wins you over, he doesn’t mind spending his precious energy. Especially not when you warm up enough to stop running away.

taglist: @kageyamas-love @mikasbloodbag

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #suna x y/n #suna rintarou x y/n #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq fluff #anilysium server collab #shoved;it #mysh.whitedwarf.[hq]

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lovestrucked-again · 4 years

Text

Delirium IV

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader Word count: 3k

Genre & Warning: HEAVY SMUT, fingering, Explicit content, mafia gang, possessive, toxic, yandere like personality, public scenes, humiliation, multiple orgasms, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, use of safe systems, praise, teasing, use of sex objects, dildo, vagina balls and straps, BDSM: handcuffs, blindfolds, chains, nipple clamps, dildo sucking. pain kink?

Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable. A very obvious statement but this series is purely fictional, it is unacceptable in real life and should not be taken lightly.

A/N: This is one of the heaviest and dirtiest and chains and clamps are involved and you know what, it is a breathy mess. Be warned. Prev | Next

Day 2

The return trip home goes much faster, your skill of walking without needing to stop every so often increasing, learning how to avoid the sharp metal raking into your thighs. Even so, by the time you finally catch sight of the apartment building you had left from, the sun was settling low in the sky.

Taeyong walks with his hand still tightly intertwined with yours; making small talk with you about favourite movies, songs, anything really. There’s no way you can verbally respond though, your efforts and focus being on keeping your walls clenched around the silver balls still inserted deep into your vagina. You make it into the safety of the elevator when you finally let out a deep sigh, leaning against the walls in silence as Taeyong stands beside you, the smug expression still on his face. “You did well baby.”

You turn to look at him, sending him a vicious glare that clearly says shut up. “Thanks, but I would’ve been better if I didn't have this,” you point to your legs, quickly pulling your skirt up for him to see the outline of the straps buckled around your thighs, “stabbing at me every time I walk.”

“But wasn't it worth it?” he asks, taking your hand in his, “you came so hard around my fingers.”

The elevator lifts smoothly to the top floor, announcing its arrival with a short musical chime. He steps out, dragging you along with him. The key yielding to his door unlocks and as you step into the suite, he grabs you by your shoulders, throwing you roughly against the wall.

His mouth, hungry and eager, finds yours. His tongue pushes its way past your lips, demanding. His hand closes over your breast through the thin material of your shirt and you shudder, moan, and cling tighter to his body. He takes your wrists firmly in his hands, pinning them around over your head as his tongue forces itself deeper. You quiver against his hold, shuddering as you feel wetness trickling down your thigh.

When he finally breaks the kiss, you can feel your face was flush with need, your hips which were previously grinding against his being a major contributor – despite the pain of the sharp teeth digging into you. Taeyong smiles, pleased.

“You’re always so eager for me,” he purrs, stroking your cheek. “Turn around baby, face the wall.”

You hesitate and he tilts his head, waiting for you to follow through. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost afraid it’s probably audible to the whole world by the way it thumps. You turn slowly, shifting your weight carefully to face the wall. You wait, listening to the shuffling sound of fabric; your arms scrunching the material of your short skirt.

“What are you doing?” You ask, the nerves eating at your stomach.

Something slides across your eyes, obscuring your vision and your hands fly to your face, feeling the velvety smooth blindfold over your head.

“Don’t touch.” He warns, slapping your hands away softly.

Taeyong turns you around again, and you feel his breath against your skin before his lips find yours. The kiss begins softly, gently and builds very slowly. The tension spreads through you as he presses harder into you, your tongue meeting his as you fight him for dominance. You feel the heat of his hands at your sides, the firmness of his body against yours; and the giddy rush passes over you as you contract around the balls still inserted in you, nearly coming undone against the wall.

His fingers slip under your shirt towards your back, easily unclipping your bra and sliding them to the floor. You moan again, louder this time and your fingers twine through his hair. Before long, your shirt has been removed and his fingers are at your thigh. You feel him crawl towards your skirt, which is tugged down almost immediately after.

You pause in the midst of your kiss, waiting for his careful teasing touch to appear on your skin. But there’s no movement.

“What’s wrong?” He hums, moving his lips back from yours.

“N-nothing.” You choke out.

His fingers suddenly lock in front of the strap you’re wearing and the cool air touches your throbbing hardened clit as his hand slides between your legs, undoing the buckles. When his finger lightly grazes over your clit you clench around the objects, holding onto the weight with all your might. He chuckles to himself as he watches your mouth form into a hard line, your teeth gritting against each other. He presses harsher on your clit and you cry out sharply, thrusting your hips hard against his hand as the balls fall out with a plop.

The warm heavy weight tumbles out of you with a wet squishing sound; your juices pouring out along with it. Taeyong’s waiting hand manages to catch the silver balls, soaking his fingers as the musical chimes roll in his palm.

“You’re absolutely drenched princess.” He brings the balls to his lip and pulls down the blindfold; only slightly – just enough for you to stare in shock as he gently slips one through and into his mouth. His eyes are boring into yours as he sucks wildly on the ball and you watch as it rolls from side to side in his cheek. When he’s done with it, the ball slips out of his mouth with a plop, his drool now covering the shiny item. “So sweet.”

The balls drop to the floor with a loud clang and you jump, surprised by the resonating sounds it goes as it hits the hard surface. Taeyong pulls the blind up so your vision disappears again.

His fingers find your sensitive spot, stroking against your clit, coaxing the longing within you and he laughs as you whimper. The sudden metal closing around your wrists makes you jump, squeaking in surprise. You look at him in panic, squirming as he keeps his arm on your shoulder to keep you still. “What are you going to do to me?” You ask, voice small. "We’re going to have some fun." He kneels on the floor, and hard metal closes around your ankles, just above your shoes. When he moves again, the heavy clanking sound of chains fills your ears.

“What’s that for?” you gulp, the buzz within you coming to life as you listen to the series of movements.

“You’ll see.”

Something tugs on your wrists, and you gasp when you’re abruptly pulled away from the wall.

He leads you by the cuffs around your wrist, the chains dragging behind your ankles as you move with the heavy weight resisting your steps. You walk with an exaggerated caution, blind, legs wide apart and footsteps very slow. With each step you can feel your heart pounding more wildly.

Taeyong’s hand goes to your back steading you as you step forward onto something soft. “Over here, step up a little.”

You can hear the chains clink and your feet are guided into a stance. When you stumble and nearly fall, Taeyong reaches out to steady you, his hands finding your waist swiftly. By the time you recover, he’s secured the chains around your ankles, fixed to a point on each side of you.

“Taeyong I h-havent done this before.” You stutter out, your legs spread wide apart as you stand naked except for your shoes.

The clanking around your wrists stops, “Do you want me to take these off?”

You hesitate for a moment. While you were wildly excited for something different from your previous sex encounters with other partners, you were still nervous about exploring something new. As well as that, you realised that it had only been a few days since you met him yet you had learnt so many things about your body; how you could react to his touches. “I don't know,” You confess.

“It’s up to you baby,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles onto your arm.

“I want to try,” you mumble, “but i-im a little scared.”

“Why don't we make a system; you know how traffic lights work right?” he chuckles.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Say the colour when you need to.” You nod, feeling a little more relieved with the idea. He takes your hands and slides the cuff up, planting a soft kiss on your wrist before he chains them, lifting your arms over your head. You let out a whimper as the chains tighten, your body being stretched taut. You were being chained upright, standing spread-eagle, arms bound far overhead so you’re almost forced to stand on your tippy toes.

Your breathing becomes ragged as you wait for what comes next. With every breath, your breasts bob and sway. You jump when Taeyong’s hands suddenly come from behind, caressing your body, roaming over the curves of your breasts.

“Your nipples are so hard princess; you must like this.” He whispers into your ear.

The hair on your neck stands as you fumble out for a reply, “I-”

“It’s okay, I know what you like.”

You squeeze your eyes shut despite the darkness already as you feel something bite down hard on your nipples. Tight clamps grip around you and you jerk your body against the chains instantly, screaming.

You feel the painful tugging, realising that Taeyong had to be attaching a chain or cord to the clamps. The sound of the chain rattling comes first before the clamps tighten and pull your nipples, dragging your breasts up towards the ceiling as you yelp and rise to your tippy toes in an attempt to ease the pain.

“I know you wanted it hard.” He murmurs, pausing for a moment, bringing his lips to your earlobe, swiping it with his tongue as he pulls on the chain dragging at your nipples.

Something large and thick shoves itself deep into your sex and you shriek at the sudden intrusion as it goes further and further into you, until it bottoms out within you. You can hardly breathe, your mouth gasping for air as you fight against the sensations roaming throughout your body. You attempt to move your hips but the dildo remains within you, forcing your hips still. You struggle against the chains, unable to raise yourself or move.

With each breath, the tiny rocking in your body makes your breasts bob and sway in small motions, forcing the clamps to close harsher on your nipples. The dildo impaling you forces you to stand on your tippy toes and you’re afraid to lower yourself any lower – fearing you’d send it too deep into yourself.

You shake at the manacles digging into your wrist before Taeyong finally removes the blindfold; your vision coming back in a blurry haze. Your eyes fly straight to the intruding object, noticing it’s connected to a platform directly below your entrance and you blink a couple of times, making sure it’s real and not your mind playing with you.

The next thing that comes into sight is Taeyong standing directly in front of your chained up body. The sunlight from behind him shining straight through the window and glowing on to your skin. His features are soft and his dark brown eyes stare back at you, a grin plastered on his face.

“Is that better?” He asks. You want to nod and reply but your attention is drawn to the view behind him.

“I-Is that a clear window?” You stutter out, noticing the perfect vision you had of the city streets in the floor to ceiling picture window. The illumination of the sun was fading, turning into a dusty hue, but the city street spread out below was still crowded with people.

“Why?”

“What if somebody looks up?”

“Then they’ll be blessed with the sight of a beautiful woman chained in the window fucking herself,” he states, turning around to look below.

You hang there for a few minutes, fighting not to move, controlling your deep breaths as you panic. The people on the streets seem so far and you can’t make out any facial features from the distance when they turn; you can only hope the distance was far enough to be unnoticed. Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up.

The muscles in your legs begin to quiver from the strain of trying to keep yourself up on your tiptoes and you panic, feeling your walls widen as the dildo slides deeper into you.

“Relax baby, it’s okay.” Taeyong coos, watching as it circles into you slowly.

You cry out in pain as you feel yourself give out, using the little remaining strength you have left to lower yourself as gently as you can, settling onto the dildo. The cord attached to the clamps of your nipples tightens as your body falls – dragging your breasts upwards. Your full weight lands onto the dildo quickly and you jump back quickly with an unbearable bruising pain, lifting yourself onto your tiptoes after gaining a moment of breath.

Not long after, your strength dies again, much quicker than before. Your muscles fail and you lower yourself again onto the length. You let out a few heavy breaths, rocking your hips to move yourself from pressing into the same place again before the pain becomes too much and you rise onto your tiptoes again, crying.

Taeyong watches in awe, his own hand flying down his pants as he strokes himself in front of you. The sounds in the empty apartment only come from you; your moans and quiet sobs, the rattling of the chains and combine with the slurping sounds of your pussy as the dildo exits.

The third time your legs give out, you find that you’ve lost your strength to rise any more. You shift and move, rocking your hips back and forth afraid to stay still and let the pain sink in. The agonising pain changes as the dildo slowly dissipates and your pussy begins to crave more than just the plastic rubber.

“That’s it,” his voice whispers, “Fuck it well.”

White cream trickles down your leg, dripping onto the floor beneath you. Your desperate cries of pain eventually soften and the pain turns to pleasure.

“That’s it princess, keep going. Give it to yourself.”

Your motions grow frantic as you move; your hands bonded above your head, body stretched tight, nipples screaming in pain and a familiar tension building inside of you. But the dildo stretches too far deep into you and you scream louder than before, tears slipping out of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

“Taeyong I can’t, red stop,” you cry out urgently. You feel his hands against your waist before you’re able to see him. He holds your weight up, lowering the rod holding the dildo and you relax. Your walls finally left empty and gnawing as you breathe heavily for air.

“You okay?”

“Yeah – I just need a second.” You whisper, your head rolling forward as you hang still.

Taeyong watches as you weaken in his hold, his own heart panging with ache as he hears your gasping. “That’s enough for today.” He murmurs.

You jerk your head back up, “NO!” you cry out; ignoring the nipple clamps tightening around you from the sudden movement. “I can keep going.” You mumble, desperate for the orgasm that was so close to being released.

Taeyong doesn't ask again, dropping your body as you fall flat footed against the platform and your nipples are pulled even worse than before. He ignores your screams as he readjusts the rod and places the dildo back at your entrance.

Having already prepared yourself for the intrusion, you go much more contently onto the dildo, jerking your thighs violently, grinding yourself harshly onto the thing side of you, hurting yourself, as you moan. You avoid his gaze, turning to stare at the heedless flow of people beneath the window instead.

Then without warning, it becomes too much. A wave of pleasure, ferocious in its intensity roars over you, taking you completely by surprise. You come hard, fast, thrashing against the chains as you scream in ecstasy. You contract around the dildo, each contraction lasting in an explosion of pleasurable pain as your orgasm continues on and on.

When it finally dies, you hang limply from the chains, twitching and moaning. Taeyong removes the rod supporting the dildo, letting it slide out with a plop from your abused and aching pussy, smearing your juices along his hand. He reaches around you and unclamps your nipples.

Fire blooms as the sudden rush of blood comes back and you whimper at the new pain. He releases the metal rod from the base and picks up the hard rubber dildo alone. He brings the head towards your lips and without conscious thought, your mouth opens as he shoves it deep against the back of your throat.

Aftershocks from your orgasm ripple through your body with each thrust into your mouth. The dripping cum covered dildo automatically placed far away into your mind as you moan around it. He presses harder and it slides without resistance down your throat, until its base reaches your lip.

Your mind returns slowly to your body. Then in a rush, you were suddenly aware of your physical self, of the steady ache between your legs, the burning pain in your nipples, the thick rubber penis in your throat. It’s not until you finally need to breathe that you start screaming around the gagged intrusion, struggling against your bonds. Taeyong pulls it from your mouth as you cough, gasping for air.

Working quickly, Taeyong unfastens the chains from the bindings around your ankles, and then the same for the manacles around your wrists. Your body sags into his arms, unable to muster the strength of standing.

“You did so well baby.” He coos, supporting your weight and helping you to off the platform. As you blink heavily in his arms, you look back out the window, noticing a crowd of heads closely clustered and facing your direction. You can already see their disgusted faces as they murmur amongst themselves, the sea of hostile faces some curious, some downright hungry, all looking at you.

Your face glows red as you bury your face deeper into Taeyong’s chest, the people’s fingers pointing straight at you.

#nct smut #nct #nct mafia #nct taeyong #taeyong smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #smut #kpop smut #taeyong #nct127 #lee taeyong #nct yandere #taeyong imagine #kpop mafia

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Careful

Takes place after 5x01 because I love that angst of that episode and I love hurting Hotch but also Reid so...

No warnings

Dozing in and out of anesthesia it takes Spencer several hours to recall the full events of the day. He’s in too much pain, too distracted to note the lack of people at his bedside. Penelope holds his hand and he knows it’s her because he cracks an eye open and sees that someone dressed as the embodiment of the rainbow is softly asking him if he wants another ice chip. As time moves on, minutes feeling like hours, his sense comes to him and he sees the room around him. Feels a pang of hurt when he realizes that while Derek is eating his jello he does not see the typical crowd of three always waiting just at the edge of his bed.

“Where’s Hotch?” he asks sleepily. He can’t disguise the pain in his voice at this realization that Hotch hasn’t shown up. Hotch is always here. Lingering just out of reach but watching, Hotch always watches. Maybe not every time that Spencer wakes up but there are always blurry memories of the older man. Sometimes resting or pacing the room or just sitting and waiting but something. There’s always something.

Derek clears his throat but Garcia’s softly muffled sob beat him to it.

The heart monitor jumps as Spencer’s anxiety skyrockets, the pieces of his memory filling in as he recalls the conversation he had with Emily. Foyet and blood and the hospital. He can’t fight his tears, no amount of quick blinking abates them. “Is he…”

Derek sits up, shushing him before he can find the words to fill in the heavy blank. “No, no,” he cups Spencer’s cheek, shaking his head. “No, pretty boy, he’s okay.” Derek shakes his head at his own exaggeration of the truth. Hotch is anything but okay right now but he’s alive and that has to count for something. “He’s a little banged up,” Derek amends. “He’s alive.”

They dodge his questions for the rest of the day. Using just how touched starved he is against him, turning his attention away from his thoughts with a hand pressed to his forehead. Fingers sweeping through his hair until he’s safely nestled back into his blankets and pillows, losing to his exhaustion.

The sunrise of the next day brings the pain he hadn’t felt under the mental fog of the other drugs. He curses Tobias Hankle and hates himself as he fists the sheets in his hands and shakes his head. Turning away their offers. Thankful he doesn’t have to explain how life has left him here chewed up and spit out and deprived of the drugs that would soothe this pain. Derek tries to help but Spencer doesn’t care that it’s not technically a relapse and no one would blink an eye if wanted something, hell anything but he shuts his eyes and refuses.

He’ll be fine.

The pain… After a while, he struggles to keep his cool. Penelope comes up early and wipes sweat from his brow where it’s accumulated in his strain. He tries to keep silent, answer her questions as nicely as he can so that he doesn’t say something mean. He hates the way that the words come out of his mouth. The way he takes his pain out on everyone else around him.

He just wants to know how Hotch is and after a while of their brief answers and shrugging, half-assed mumbles he can’t take it. Secluded to this bed, having no say in anything happening to him, all he has is time to get lost in his head. Which is okay for a while, he can think about books to take his mind away from the pain but that does get boring quickly. Daytime television is ass and he’s not nearly tired enough for a nap.

“How’s Hotch?” he asks knowing already what they’re going to tell him. Never direct answers because he suspects they’re trying to protect him but it’s really because they don’t know. They’re afraid to really know. He would be afraid too if he could see but he can’t see and he can’t know and he’s really, really fed up with it.

JJ shrugs. “He’s just--” she crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. Guarding herself. “You have to be careful around him,” she mumbles. That’s all that any of them seem to be able to agree on. This careful that they all seem to ache with. The way that they can’t even look him in the eyes to say it. Even Penelope, she looks down and tears glisten in her eyes and there’s that word again: careful.

And he mistakes JJ to mean that he has to be careful around Hotch. That they’re saying that he is at risk of setting Hotch off and it’s childish and a simple misunderstanding but it drives him crazy. Of all of them, they’re worried about him? He and Penelope are the only people who don’t go out of their way to piss Hotch off. Derek yells at him all the time, the two of them never get along. Hotch has known Spencer twice as long as he’s known Emily and Hotch hated her for the first year she was on the team.

But he needs to be careful? As if they aren’t torches lighting him ablaze.

So, he goes to see for himself.

It’s late and he’s working with a small time frame. Needs to wait for Dave to head home after dinner but before Emily can come to sit with him for the night. It’s about twenty minutes, he knows only because Derek aired the concern two days ago. Was afraid of what could happen in that amount of time but Dave had won out and the twenty minutes remained. Hotch needs a break from them and he likes the twenty minutes, so they’ll give him that.

So, twenty minutes it is.

The moving makes him tremble, the pain nearly overwhelming but he’s got a plan and he needs to move. Needs to do it fast.

He doesn’t know where Hotch’s room is but he knows it’s on the second floor. He’d heard JJ and Emily talking about Hotch getting moved from the intensive care unit to a general floor but not one like Spencer’s. Someplace still close to the nurses who often need to get to him quickly. Emily had dropped that it was the second floor, twisting her fingers anxiously in her hands. She hadn’t liked the idea of the move but it wasn’t up to her.

So Spencer makes his slow way down the hall of the second floor. His bracelet and crutches get him far, it just looks like he’s been sent by another floor’s nurse to get some exercise in. That and he’s aware that his overgrown hair and thin body makes him look younger, innocent so he gets smiles and the occasional wave and one says anything.

Finding Hotch is harder than he’d thought it would be but he finds the room. A giant stuffed bear sitting in the windowsill-- the same one, if not smaller he notes with a jealous frown, Garcia brought him. Stepping into the room he’s not sure what he’s expecting to find but it’s not this. Careful, they’d said, and he’d thought of Hotch’s performative anger. The way he sends paper flying through the air. Thought of the way Hotch had fussed with him over the years for his dangerous stunts.

Careful and he’d assumed Hotch would be hardened. Guarded.

He’d never thought careful could be mean weak.

There’s a walker sitting by the bed, discarded Spencer knows when he realizes that the wheelchair is physically closer to Hotch. That the tiny amount of space between the chair Hotch sleeps in now and the bed was too great a distance. Even though it’s no more three feet, no more than a step or two.

He’s paler than Spencer has ever seen him, held up by pillows, and breathing heavily even with the aid of the oxygen canal sneaking under his nose. Entirely limp, lifeless with his head turned into the raised side of the chair. To his left is the dinner he’d left nearly untouched, unable to stomach even a bite of unseasoned chicken or the steamed carrots that should have been easy on his stomach. He’d had a few sips of apple juice and fallen asleep, exhausted from just being moved from the bed.

Spencer stands there so frozen that he’s glad Hotch is asleep. He can’t imagine the ways in which he’d hurt his boss if he were awake to see the emotion in Spencer’s eyes. To see the tears and sympathy as his eyes move over Hotch’s chest. Taking in the dots of blood on his chest, the gown pulled down to show far too much. To see the staples peaking through where the gauze isn’t thick enough. That he’s being held together like a broken doll and he looks their measures just aren’t enough. He’s broken beyond compare.

“Reid.”

He jumps and turns to see Emily standing outside the door and he wonders just how long he’s been standing there. He steps out into the hall, flinching at the grip she has on his elbow as she steps close to him. There’s something about her eyes, the sneer he hasn’t yet heard in her voice. He’s afraid of her and she wants him to be. “Don’t let him see you looking at him like that,” she warns but it’s not the way you reprimand a misguided child. She’s pulling his hand from a red hot burner and she means to scare him. “Do you understand me? Do you think that’s what he needs right now? Seeing you look at him like that?”

She releases him and he resists the urge to rub where her fingers dug in. Only then does she soften, just a little, and sigh with a shake of her head at him. “Pull yourself together,” she mumbles, brushing past him to step into the room. “Don’t come in here unless you can handle it.” He sees her pain now, the way she looks at the floor. “He needs you to be strong, Spence. It’s not easy but he can’t do it right now.” She pulls in a deep breath, “I’ll tell him you came by--”

He shakes his head, “no, no I--”

She stops him, “please? Take tonight. Feel. Let it sink in and come back in the morning. He’ll… he’s better in the morning.” But her tone makes him think that’s probably not true.

He watches her go into the room, watching from where he’s hidden as she walks up to Hotch. Cherishing a soft moment while he sleeps to press a kiss to his temple and wake him, gently like she’s sorry. They exchange soft words, Hotch’s too slurred for him to make out but Emily’s clear and kind. She’s walking him through the last few days, reminding him until he can nod and fill in the pieces himself.

He turns away when he sees Emily preparing to get him up and he realizes that he really isn’t strong enough for this. She was right and he can’t imagine… he doesn’t want to even think about Hotch right now.

Curiosity killed the cat and now he's dragging his sore ass back to his room. Left to sit on the image of the man who's always protected, the man who never leaves slumped and hurting because he can't stomach it. He's too weak.

Spencer's always too weak.

What does that say about him? That he can't think of a single time Hotch left him alone in the hospital, no matter his condition, but when Hotch needs him...

#criminal minds #spencer reid #aaron hotchner

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catgrump · 3 years

Note

saimota and 24? maybe kaitos injured and making a big deal about it and shuichi thinks he’s just exaggerating?? nothing like,, deadly but he’s definitely injured.

Well anon I saw your idea and kinda morphed it around a bit; I hope that’s ok!

Ty for letting me drink some Saimota Juice; I love them so so much

Non-Despair Hope’s Peak AU 😌

🌻🌻🌻

Kaito was explaining something to Shuichi about astronaut training. It was a warm spring day, they were taking a walk together after lunch, just hanging out

And Shuichi wasn’t really paying attention.

Kaito is too attractive to NOT stare and gawk at.

The spring sunshine made Kaito’s skin glow and put tiny galaxies in his eyes. If Shuichi wasn’t so afraid of one of his closest friends rejecting him and abandoning him forever, he would tell him that. Shuichi imagines Kaito would be flattered to be compared to outer space.

When Kaito talked, he was always so animated. He was full of life. It’s one of the things Shuichi likes most about him.

It’s so cute how sometimes he’s so consumed with his thoughts that he doesn’t pay attention to what’s going on around him—, Shuichi’s mind started wandering, but was cut short

“Shit!” Kaito cried out, wincing at the bottom of the concrete stairs they were descending. He was having trouble staying upright.

“Kaito, what happened?” Shuichi quickly made his way down the last few stairs to meet him, “Are you alright?”

Kaito was hunched over, firmly grasping the railing with one hand. His weight was balanced on just one of his legs. The other was off the ground, and Shuichi could tell Kaito was avoiding touching it.

“I uh, I missed a step; that’s all,” Kaito attempted to reassure Shuichi, but he couldn’t mask the pain in his voice, “I’ll walk it off. I’ll be fine. Just walk it off.”

It sounded like Kaito was trying to convince himself more than anything. “Are you sure? We can head over to the nurse’s office if—“

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be alright. I just stumbled down a couple stairs. It’s no big deal,” Kaito released his grip on the railing and turned to keep walking, but as soon as he put weight on his left foot, his face contorted into a miserable expression Shuichi had never seen before. Kaito practically fell to the railing to go back to the position he was in, muttering “Dammit” repeatedly

Shuichi rushed to Kaito’s side and grabbed on to Kaito’s arms. “Come on, let’s sit down, okay?”

Kaito complied, letting Shuichi carefully guide him to sitting on the stairs.

“I swear, I’ll be alright,” Kaito insisted, but his face told another story. Shuichi’s a detective. You can’t fool him so easily.

Shuichi moved to squat in front of Kaito at the bottom of the stairs. He gently took Kaito’s left ankle in his hands. “It’s this one, right?”

“I probably just rolled it weird,” Kaito’s a stubborn guy, but Shuichi knew that meant ‘yes, this is the one in pain’

With no hesitation, Shuichi rolled up the hem of the pants Kaito had on to get a better look. He had to check for swelling or bruising. “Sorry,” Shuichi muttered an apology, attempting to hide embarrassment

Little did he know, Kaito’s lips tightened as Shuichi made contact with his skin— and not just because of his injury

Shuichi was incredibly careful in his examination. He’s not a doctor by any means, but he’s had to do plenty of examinations in Talent Development Hours. He’s able to recognize signs of fractures, broken bones—

Kaito made a noise and Shuichi lifted his hands from his ankle bone. “What’s wrong? How did that feel? Stinging? Sharp?” Shuichi fired off his questions

“No—“ Kaito started to cover up his now obvious pain, but Shuichi wouldn’t let him have it

“Kaito, I don’t see you as any less of a man if you’re hurt. What’s important is getting you medical attention if you need it and making sure you recover as quickly as possible.”

Shuichi looked up at Kaito. His eyes were watering. Has Kaito ever cried in front of him before? Shuichi wondered when was the last time Kaito cried at all.

“Yeah, it hurts,” Kaito looked lighter, finally admitting it, “I dunno how to describe it; it just hurts when you touch it.”

Kaito collapsed into himself, hiding his face in his hands. “God I’m so stupid,” was muffled between his fingers

Shuichi got up and moved next to him. “Hey, don’t say that,” Shuichi wrapped one of Kaito’s arms up and leaned his head onto Kaito’s shoulder, “This could’ve happened to anyone. It could’ve happened to me. And you’re not stupid. You know so much about space and physics and you always know what to say to people to help them and—“

Kaito laughed through some sniffles and cut off Shuichi from his rambling. He looked down at Shuichi and was suddenly distracted from the pain in his ankle. Shuichi’s head pressed against Kaito’s shoulder made him feel... safer.

Normally Kaito prides himself as a protector, but it was nice that Shuichi wanted to care for him as much as Kaito wanted to care for Shuichi.

“Hey, you’re not bad at knowing what to say, either, Shuichi,” Kaito said, smiling as he scrubbed tears from his eyes, being sure to only use the hand on the arm Shuichi wasn’t attached to

“Let me take you to the nurse’s office, dummy,” Shuichi jested

“Hey, I thought you said I was smart,” Kaito played along

Shuichi laughed and stood up, offering Kaito one of his hands. “You are. You’re one of the dumbest smart people I’ve ever met.”

Kaito laughed with him, and let Shuichi help him up. He was surprised with how easily Shuichi slung Kaito’s arm over his shoulder

“As long as we don’t have to walk back up the stairs, I’ll be alright.”

Prompt from This List: feel free to send in a request!

If you enjoy my work, you can buy me a Ko-Fi if you can! 💛 Fics will always be free but I really appreciate any donations 💛

#danganronpa #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fic #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa fanfic #drv3 fanfic #drv3 #drv3 oneshot #kaito x shuichi #drv3 shuichi #shuichi saihara #danganronpa shuichi #saimota #kaito momota #danganronpa kaito #drv3 kaito #shuichi x kaito

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pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke smut: Mouth

Some plotless feelsy smut, because sometimes a girl just has to write Fenris going down on Hawke. Or is that just me? Okay [goes to sit in the smut corner like a smut goblin]

~1800 words; read here on AO3 instead.

************************

Rynne Hawke spent a lot of time thinking about Fenris’s mouth.

He had the perfect mouth, in her opinion. His lips weren’t so plump as to be the first feature of his face to draw the eye, but her eye was drawn to them all the same. She lovingly studied the delicate bow of his lips, and she admired the way that bow became more exaggerated when he was sneering at a slaver or scowling at something Anders had said. She contemplated the perfect dusky-rose colour of his lips, and when she leaned away from him after a kiss, she silently cursed the smudges of her raspberry-red lip stain that dared to spoil the natural hue of his lips. Sure, there might be other mouths in Thedas that were more lush or more rosy or more attractively shaped, but to Rynne, no one else’s mouth held nearly the same appeal.

It wasn’t just the shape of Fenris’s lips that was so thoroughly preoccupying, though. It was the way they moved. It was the way they twisted in disgust when Fenris smelled fish down at the docks. It was the way they parted on a weary sigh when Rynne stumbled haplessly into the next late-night Lowtown fight. It was the way his lips pressed into a thin line when she said something foolish, and the way they stretched and curled into a smile when she said something foolish that he thought was funny. His lips were expressive, moving and shifting in time with his emotions and pulling at her heart like a puppet on strings. Rynne watched the evocative movements of his lips, and she thought to herself that she could spend a lifetime watching his perfect mouth and never get bored.

And then, of course, there was the way Fenris used that lovely mouth of his.

He used it for all the normal stuff, of course — talking and breathing and eating and all. But even those mundane acts were enough to drive her to distraction. When Fenris talked, Rynne watched the way his lips shifted around the baritone sound of his bone-melting voice, and she admired the way he slowly wet his lips when he was thinking about what to say next. When Fenris breathed, panting heavily after a fight or drawing a gasp of air when she dragged her tongue across his lyrium-lined abs, Rynne thought about the air that passed through those perfect lips, feeding into his lungs only to come back out shaped into a dryly humorous remark or a low-pitched chuckle or a pleasured groan. When Fenris ate, he hid his mouth sometimes behind one hand while he chewed, and Rynne treasured the moments when she glimpsed the tip of his tongue flicking out across his lip to catch a stray crumb or a precious drop of juice.

Fenris talking, Fenris breathing, Fenris eating and sipping elegantly from a glass of wine: Rynne watched with unabashed appreciation as his mouth did all of that fine and necessary work. But all of that was nothing compared to the way he used his gorgeous mouth to kiss.

His lips parted slightly as he drew her close, and Rynne happily gave herself to the perfect slightly-parted pressure of his lips. His kisses always started this way, a firm press as though he was anchoring himself to her before deciding whether to deepen the kiss or to draw away, and she was always delighted to let him be the one to decide which direction their kisses would go. In a life where Rynne Hawke was the one in charge, the one who led their merry little band of misfits from one madcap adventure to the next, she was more than happy to let Fenris lead the way in this slow and tantalizing dance of pleasure: this dance where his perfect mouth slid carefully and smoothly over hers, his lips coaxing hers apart and his sleek tongue stroking her own, his teeth pressing delicately into her lower lip until she gasped, his lips brushing over the corner of her parted lips with the delicacy of a butterfly’s wing…

Fenris leaned away from her, leaving her panting for air, and still she couldn’t look away from his mouth. His lips were plumper than usual from the firm pressure of their kiss and their colour had deepened to a tempting rosy hue, and she just couldn’t stop fucking staring at how beautiful they were.

“Hawke,” he said.

She forced herself to stop staring at his mouth. “Yes?”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“You are staring at me,” he said.

“I’m always staring at you,” she replied. “You are gorgeous, in case you’ve forgotten.”

He gave her a chiding little smile. “You’re staring more than usual, then.”

She tilted her head. “Did you know that you have the nicest mouth in all of Thedas?”

He scoffed and rubbed the lovely mouth in question. “Kaffas, Hawke. You will make me blush.”

“I certainly hope so,” she said cheerfully. “Your ears turn such a charming shade of red.”

He huffed a laugh, then lifted her chin with his thumb. “A nice mouth, you say,” he mused. “Is there something you want me to do with my mouth?”

His voice was a low and playful purr, and it triggered a pulse of lust between her legs. She let out a throaty laugh. “Why Fenris, what a naughty suggestion.”

“It isn’t naughty,” he said. “Not unless you make it so.”

She coyly nibbled her lip. “Well, if you’re offering…”

“I could offer,” he said. “But perhaps you should ask if there is something specific that you want.”

He was smiling faintly, and she nearly swooned at the treasured sight. She curled her fingers in the fabric of his tunic. “I’ll tell you what I want,” she said. “I want you to put that gorgeous mouth between my legs and do something useful with it.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I could do that,” he said, and he abruptly picked her up. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the desk in the study while Fenris slid her silky skirt up her thighs.

She panted eagerly and leaned her weight back on her palms. Fenris sat in the desk chair and traced his thumb over her cleft through the barrier of her smalls, and Rynne jolted and lifted her hips.

He shook his head and smiled — Maker’s balls, that smile, the curl of mirth on that perfectly sculpted mouth! — then brushed his knuckle between her legs. “Your smallclothes are soaked through. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“All day,” she said promptly.

He paused in his petting and looked up at her with wide eyes. “All day? Hawke, it is past midnight.”

“It’s been a long day, believe me,” she said wryly. “Will you lick me now with your lovely tongue?”

He tsked. “You and your endless compliments,” he drawled. He pushed her skirt a little higher and carefully pulled the crotch of her smalls to the side, and when his tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip, Rynne stared at his mouth with rising desperation.

She wiggled her hips on the desk. “Fenris, please…”

He didn’t reply; instead, he lowered his mouth between her legs. His lips sealed over her pussy and the flat of his tongue pressed against her clit, and Rynne dragged in a tremulous gasp of air.

Maker’s balls, fuck, his mouth on her pussy… This was what made her come undone. This was the thing that distracted her the most during the day and kept her mind thrumming at night. The feeling of his lips caressing the slick folds of her flesh, giving her a gentle sort of bliss that complemented the more intense pulse of pleasure that his tongue was fostering in the swollen little bud of her clit: this was something that Fenris’s mouth did exceedingly well.

He pushed her legs further apart and kissed her sex, and Rynne stared shamelessly at his handsome white-haired head as he smoothed his tongue along the length of her cleft up to her clit. He graced her with an open-mouthed kiss and swirled his tongue slowly over her clit, and she clenched her nails on the desk with a gasp.

“Fenris…” she mewled.

He hummed into her flesh, a growly sound of affirmation that thrummed through her body and straight into her blood, and Rynne curled her hips toward him with rising desperation. She was spiralling toward her rapture, spiralling higher and closer in time with the gentle motion of Fenris’s tongue as it teased its way around her swollen little bud, and despite her playful jokes from a moment ago, she truly couldn’t stop staring. Fenris’s elegant fingers were holding her legs apart, and his hair half-obscured his eyes without hiding the tantalizing sight of his mouth moving at the juncture of her thighs, and the sight of him — Maker, the look of him, the sound of his hungry breaths ghosting across her sex, the sheer tangible reality of this incredible man gracing her humble body with the perfection of his mouth: it was almost more than she could bear.

He caressed her thighs with his palms and lapped carefully at her clit and kissed her with his beautiful mouth, and a heart-pounding moment later, Rynne found her bliss. It fanned out through her body and rippled all the way down to her calves and her toes, and she gasped and bucked her hips and cried out his name. He gripped her hips and continued to kiss her, his tongue sliding over her sex in perfect time with the frantic pulsing in her core, and when the ecstatic crescendo of her pleasure began to wane, she slid her fingers through his snowy hair in a gentle caress.

He wiped his mouth on her thigh, then lifted his head to look at her, and another exquisite half-smile pulled at his lips. “Hawke, you’re staring again.”

She let out a breathless little laugh. “You can’t blame me. You just have such a talented mouth.”

He huffed in amusement, then stood up and cradled her neck in his palm. “As it turns out, I am not the only one here with a talented mouth.”

She grinned and reached for his belt. “Is that so?

“It is,” he said. He pressed his forehead gently to hers. “And you are not the only one who has been thinking about this all day.”

His voice was husky and tender, and her heart flipped happily in her chest. “You smooth talker,” she whispered, and she tilted her chin up to lure him into a kiss – yet another perfect kiss from the most gorgeous mouth in Thedas.

Rynne spent a lot of time thinking about Fenris’s mouth. She thought about its shape and the way it moved, the curve of his smile and the way it curled around his Tevene-accented speech. But there was one reason and one reason alone that Fenris’s mouth was so thoroughly preoccupying to Rynne Hawke: it was the mouth of the man she loved.

Fenris was the man she loved, and his mouth was the only one she would ever want to kiss again for the rest of her life.

#fenris #fenris smut #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #f!hawris #fhawris #fenrynne #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

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yoon-ing · 4 years

Text

Get Off, Power Off (m)

Android!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Letting your android help you out in more ways than one

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It’s horrifying to say the least, slightly confusing but mostly mortifying. You’ve just returned from a long day at work and you’re ready to relax the evening away while your android takes care of the household chores. But instead of the usual cheery greeting, you’re met with the sounds of exaggerated moans playing from your laptop screen that’s sitting on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. You run over to find your android plugged into the device while a split screen shows pornographic videos on one half and even worse, your porn history scrolling up the other half.

You immediately pull the USB cord out of the computer and your android’s eyes return to the soft brown human-like eyes you have programmed rather than the blank screen that he only ever wears during system updates.

“Jungkook, what are you doing!?” you exclaim with embarrassment and anger coating your tone.

“Y/N, welcome home!” he beams innocently.

“What is all of this?” you question while you try to exit all the windows open on your desktop.

“During my last update, I noticed a large part of your history was deleted, so I’m restoring it for you,” he explains calmly, not having any clue of what he’s done.

Your face is burning red because just how much of your porn history has he gone through? And how much is now on his own storage?

“Jungkook… I didn’t want you to restore it,” you have to explain to him after taking a breath to calm your nerves. He doesn’t know any better, he’s just a computer trying to do his job and you have no reason to get worked up about this.

“Did I do something wrong?” he questions and you know he’s scanning his entire system as you speak to find an inputted command related to this topic.

It’s never been something you ever thought you’d have to specify with him and it’s your own fault for not using incognito windows while indulging in your pleasures.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him. “How much have you downloaded?”

“Almost everything that was deleted, I only had 4 more files before the download was interrupted. Would you like me to continue?” Jungkook cluelessly asks.

“No it’s okay,” you tell him.

“Okay. I’ve also researched the topics unfamiliar to me, would you like a report of my findings?”

Your eyes widen at that and you can’t help but ask yourself why you splurged for the most advanced android on the market. “I don’t need a report.”

“Would you like me to save a report for later use? For when you masturbate?”

“When I what-” you choke on your own words and you realize he knows much much more than you initially thought.

“Masturbate,” he reiterates. “I was woken up from my sleep mode last night and you were making strange noises. At first, I thought you were sick, but I did a quick search and came to the conclusion that it was masturbation. I would have offered to help, but it said it was an activity done alone.”

A whole new wave of embarrassment washes over you, this one bigger than the last and you feel like you’re drowning.

Before you can take a saving breath of air, it’s like he is intentionally pushing your head underwater with his next words. “It is my job to help you with all needs, so do not be afraid to ask; I’d be pleased to help you release any sexual frustration.”

The conversation doesn’t go much further than that and luckily, he is technically a robot so it’s not like he’s intentionally trying to drag you through the mud.

A few days pass and you completely forget about the porn incident. Things are normal between you and Jungkook and it is as if nothing had even happened.

It’s after a particularly stressful day that you decide to take care of yourself a little bit, snuggling into your sheets once you’ve showered to have a little you time. Jungkook is asleep next to you so you don’t pay him any attention as you relax into the mattress and let your hand slip beneath your panties.

You let out a satisfied sigh when your finger finds your clit and you have to bite down on your lip to keep a moan from escaping when you begin to rub the sensitive nub. Your back arches and you squirm in the sheets, your eyes screwed shut as you please yourself.

You’re so wrapped up in the bliss that comes with each circle of your clit that you don’t notice a shift in the mattress until a hand is on your thigh, caressing the soft skin.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, too consumed with pleasure to stop.

“Please let me help, Y/N.”

His choice of words is merely programmed politeness, but something about the way his low voice breaks the silence with his ‘please’ has your belly twisting with desire. You move his hand up your thigh and let it replace your own on your cunt, giving him permission to touch you. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to begin rubbing and massaging your womanhood and you let your body melt into the mattress and the moans escape your lips. He doesn’t let up his pace until you are shimmying out of your shorts and he takes this as an opportunity to move down the bed until his face is positioned between your thighs.

You can feel yourself leaking, yearning to be touch and you don’t waste any time as you pull his face into your heat. Jungkook begins slow, licking your clit in long, drawn out motions and you’re surprised (pleasantly so) of how human-like his tongue is. It’s flexible and warm, and as you begin to thrust your hips upwards, he quickens his pace to lap circles around the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook’s fingertips trail up your thigh until they’re dancing around your entrance and he coats his digits in your juices before letting them slide in, one at first, then two and three. The stretch feels so good and he thrusts into you at a rhythmic pace, his long fingers quickly finding your sweet spot.

It feels euphoric, his fingers deep inside your wet pussy and his tongue and lips latched onto your clit. Pleasure courses throughout your body and you ball your hands into fists in his hair to bring him closer. You tug at his hair as you only bury him further in your wetness and you can feel yourself getting close.

Your fingers are lost in his hair, grabbing and pulling as you lose control of your body and your hips thrash against his face. The muscles in your body tense up until sweet satisfaction is pulsing through your veins and the tight coil in your stomach is snapping with your release as you cry out in pleasure.

You ride out your high on his tongue, relishing in the bliss, until all of a sudden, everything stops. His fingers go motionless and his tongue is no longer pressed against your heat. His weight falls onto you and you scramble up in panic.

“Jungkook?!” you call out as you bring him up into a sitting position.

You reach over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp so you can get a better look at him. His eyes are closed, your fluids glistening on his chin and fingers and he sits there completely still. It’s when you reach behind his left ear for his power switch that you realize what happened.

Androids are built with a two part power switch which requires the ring finger on the left hand, the one that was buried inside of you moments earlier, to be folded down when the switch behind his ear is flipped in order to trigger the power response. You almost want to laugh at the situation when you see his switch is in the ‘off’ position. In your desperate chase for release, you must’ve accidentally flipped it while your hands roamed his hair without even realizing you were touching his power button.

You decide to clean yourself and Jungkook up before you restart him and once you do, his eyes light up and he blinks at you.

“Y/N, I apologize. I was somehow unexpectedly powered down, would you like to continue where we left off?” Jungkook asks.

You chuckle to yourself before giving him an answer. “It’s alright, how about we go to bed?”

“Are you sure? I haven’t lost any data.”

“I’m sure, Jungkook,” you respond, already having come down from your pleasure high. “Will you cuddle me instead?”

Jungkook agrees, quickly following the order as he crawls under the blanket and pulls you close to his body, spooning you tightly until you drift off to dreamland.

#jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jeongguk scenarios #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #a short lil something to keep yall hydrated ;P #28

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Penny For Your Thoughts (II)

Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has lived in the Potter household since she was eight years old. Even amongst the Potters, whom she knew loved her, she has never felt truly accepted, never felt like anything other than a burden. Until she went to Hogwarts. For the first time she had friends who weren’t forced to act as such, she had a family who loved her by choice. There, she met Sirius, the first and only person to ever truly understand what she was going through, to listen to her and not judge.

Chapter Warnings: Ummm not sure - maybe swearing?

A/N: And here’s part two! I hope you enjoy - here you’ll meet some of my OCs created for the series, characters who I genuinely love a lot so I hope you also like them! Please let me know what you think - especially if you’re on the taglist, hearing your comments always inspires me to keep on writing, so please do let me know. If you wish to be added to the taglist send me an ASK, replies to the parts asking to be added onto it won’t be responded to

“I told you - I have the worst sense of direction!” Y/N groaned as herself and Beatrice managed to take another wrong turn on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“I thought you were exaggerating or - or being modest!” Beatrice laughed, nudging into her gently with her elbow. Y/N pulled a face at her.

“That would be rather Hufflepuff of me, wouldn’t it?”

“Hey - this looks familiar!” Beatrice exclaimed as they turned another corner and Y/N wrinkled her nose, taking in the painting of a fruit bowl that they had stumbled across.

“B?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re back by the kitchens - we’re back where we started.”

“What’re you two doing here?” They turned to face back down the hallway where the Hufflepuff common room was located hidden behind a pile of barrels. Liane, Jessica and Eric were approaching them, grinning at their obviously lost friends.

“Waiting for you?” Y/N suggested.

“Forget the way to the Great Hall?” Eric teased.

“Maybe a little,” Y/N agreed. The group continued on, led by Jessica who regularly looked over her shoulder as though to check that her newfound friends were still following her, worried that they may disappear.

“It’s a good thing we left so early this morning,” Beatrice commented to Y/N. “Otherwise we might not have made it to breakfast in time.”

“Why did you leave so early?” Liane asked as they entered into the Great Hall, which was already at least half full with students eating their breakfast.

“I was aware I’d get lost - B just came along for the ride.” Beatrice nodded solemnly at those words as they found themselves seats at the Hufflepuff table.

“I was under the impression that she knew what she was doing,” she admitted. “And I’m ashamed to admit that.”

“You’ve known me less than twenty four hours!” Y/N protested. “For all you know, I could have planned all of that.”

“Why would you have planned getting lost on the way to breakfast?” Beatrice asked in bewilderment.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve known you for less than twenty four hours and you expect me to spill my master plan to you,” Y/N scoffed.

Eric was watching the two girls interact, his brow scrunched together in confusion but a twinkle in his eyes that showed he was more amused than anything else.

“You’re both rather strange.”

“Well that’s just rude,” Beatrice huffed, pouring herself some juice as Y/N picked up the water pitcher.

“Do you think the professors will be nice?” Jessica blurted out the words, cutting off their conversation. Two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks when all four of them turned to face her. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking down at her plate.

“You remember what Mum said, Jess,” Eric said calmly. “When she was here she loved all the teachers - she was even taught by McGonagall and Flitwick.”

“Who are they?” Beatrice frowned and quickly added: “my parents didn’t much like talking about Hogwarts,” Y/N thought she saw a hint of embarrassment in her expression and she noted how Beatrice refused to meet any of their eyes.

“McGonagall teaches transfiguration and Flitwick teaches charms,” Liane explained, buttering a piece of toast. “My parents told me that McGonagall’s a complete hard-ass though,” she added and Y/N saw Jessica’s eyes widen.

“Really?” Beatrice asked, staring at Liane.

“Yeah - really strict, apparently,” she confirmed. “Especially if you’re not in her house.”

“That’s not true,” Eric sighed, shaking his head. “The teachers aren’t allowed to favour those in their house,” he insisted but Liane shook her head defiantly.

“None of the teachers stick to that! All the heads of house are lenient towards their own students!”

“So d’ya think Sprout’ll give us a load of house points for like… breathing?” Beatrice asked and she shared an amused look with Y/N.

“Alright - laugh all you want now, we’ll see who’s right,” Liane scoffed, but there was traces of laughter in her voice.

“What do you think we’ll have today?” Jessica asked in her quiet, soft voice, her nerves about their first day seeming to override the shyness that she had shown the previous evening.

“I hope we have Potions,” Liane said eagerly, her voice completely changing from her previous tone of disbelief.

“Do you think you’ll be good at it?” Beatrice asked interestedly.

“My Dad’s fantastic at brewing potions - Mum says that he’s been waiting for me to go to Hogwarts so that he can help me learn how to properly do them myself,” Liane explained through a bite of toast.

“I heard that it was a really hard subject,” Jessica worried.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Y/N mustered up as much of a reassuring smile as she could manage. “What’re you looking forward to?” Jessica didn’t reply immediately, clearly thinking carefully about the question.

“I think I’ll enjoy herbology,” she decided, nodding her head to confirm her thought. Beside Y/N, Beatrice completely lit up in delight.

“Really? I think I will too - I used to love gardening when I was at home!” She enthused. Jessica brightened at that and it wasn’t long before the two of them were talking excitedly about what they were most looking forward to studying - both of them, apparently, having already read through the text book that had been assigned for their year.

“What about you, then?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” Y/N’s response to Liane’s question was immediate, the words out her mouth before she had a chance even to think about them.

“But… we can’t study that yet,” Liane pointed out, raising her eyebrows and Y/N let out a sad sigh, nodding her head.

“I know - sucks, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’ll be taking it,” Liane admitted with a slight shiver. Y/N frowned at her, confused, and her new friend offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m not… great with animals. They make me nervous.”

“All animals?” Y/N questioned in disbelief.

“Pretty much - they don’t trust me, I think. And so I also don’t trust them. We’ve got a mutual understanding going on.”

“It’s okay, I’ll change that,” Y/N reassured her with a mischievous smile. “I’ve been told I can be rather persuasive.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Y/N ignored Liane’s sigh and looked over at Eric.

“What about you?” She inquired, but Eric wasn’t listening and was instead looking at his sister and Beatrice with what was almost an expression of concern that Y/N didn’t quite understand. “Eric?”

“What, sorry?” He was snapped back into the present, trying his best to feign attentiveness as he returned to the conversation.

“What subject are you excited for?” Liane repeated, rolling her eyes a little and running a hand through her scarlet hair, pushing it away from her face.

“Well… everyone’s excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?” He pointed out with a ‘duh’ expression.

Their conversation speculating over their new classes carried them to the end of breakfast, the food disappearing from the platters in front of them, the heads of house descending from the professors table at the front of the hall all carrying piles of parchment.

Professor Sprout was a squat woman with greying curly hair with a tattered wizards hat perched on top. Her fingernails had dirt underneath and the skin of her hands looked rough to Y/N’s eyes, presumably from the many hours she spent outside in the Greenhouses. Her eyes, despite being tired-looking, were warm and welcoming, smile lines beginning to be etched into the skin around them.

She practically beamed at Y/N and her fellow first years.

“I didn’t get to say it last night - but welcome all of you to Hufflepuff!” Her words caused quiet cheers and giggles from the first years surrounding them. A freckled boy that Y/N didn’t know the name off looked as though he was going to pass out from joy. “For anyone who doesn’t know - I’m Professor Sprout. Your head of House and also your Herbology teacher!” Jessica and Beatrice exchanged yet another excited look.

Sprout handed out the parchment, one to each student, asking each for their name, welcoming them to her house.

“And your name?”

“I’m Y/N, Professor, Y/N Y/L/N,” she smiled. Professor Sprout’s face fell just a little and she nodded, her warm eyes softening even further.

“It’s lovely to meet you - welcome to Hufflepuff,” she said, her voice more gentle than it had been when talking to the other first years.Y/N took her timetable from her, staring down at the little squares labelled with her lessons, not wanting to meet the inquiring gazes of her new friends who Y/N could tell had picked up on Sprout’s change in mood.

“Charms first,” Y/N muttered, reading the writing. “And then Herbology,” she looked at Beatrice who was watching her carefully. “Pretty ideal for you, huh?”

Beatrice cracked a smile and nodded her head.

“Alright - we should probably get going. With Y/N’s complete lack of any sense of direction at all it’ll take us a good fifteen to thirty minutes to find the classroom,” Beatrice declared, standing up and stretching her arms out, smirking at her new friend who rolled her eyes, standing up as well.

“Well Jess has a thestral’s sense of direction so I’m sure we can use her as a guide.”

“I don’t…. understand?” Jessica asked, looking at Y/N with an apprehensive expression.

“It was a compliment,” Y/N assured her as their little group of friends made their way out of the Great Hall, clutching at their timetables. Y/N’s heart was racing with nerves, though she didn’t want to admit it aloud.

They walked together to charms, speculating excitedly about what they thought the lesson could hold for them, what Flitwick had in store to teach them.

Unsurprisingly, considering how early they had left from breakfast, they were the first ones to find the classroom and lined up outside it, Liane talking animatedly about the different charms that she had already read up about.

“Who do we have it with, anyway?” Eric asked, leaning against the wall.

Y/N glanced down at the timetable still clutched in her hands and her heart leapt in her chest.

“The Gryffindors,” she relayed, beaming.

“Why’re you so pleased?” Beatrice asked.

“I already know some of them!”

“You already have other friends?” Beatrice gasped in feigned offence.

“What can I say? People love me.”

“Hey Y/N,” Lily tapped Y/N on her shoulder, who whirled around to grin at her.

“Hi! How are you?”

“Good thanks,” Lily grinned. “How was your first night?”

“It was fun! Oh!” Y/N turned back to her group of Hufflepuff friends. “This is Beatrice, Eric, Jessica and Liane.” They waved at the Gryffindor girl, whose smile seemed to become shyer with the introduction. “And this is Lily - we met on the platform yesterday and sat together on the train.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lily said, taking Beatrice’s hand.

“Who’re your friends?” Y/N whispered to Lily, looking over at the three other girls dressed in red-hooded robes that had arrived with Lily.

Lily giggled at Y/N’s lowered tone.

“That’s Marlene, next to her is Alice and then that’s Dorcas.” Lily introduced quietly, pointing at each girl in turn. Y/N nodded her head but didn’t get a chance to respond further as James’ booming voice rang out from down the corridor, where he had just turned the corner to the hallway where the charms class was located.

“Y/N! Hufflepuff! Mum called it! Have you written to tell her yet?”

Y/N let out a heavy sigh, removing herself from the company of her friends and walked towards James, who was accompanied by a group of boys - one of whom she recognised from the platform to be Frank Longbottom.

“I haven’t, no - did you write to let them know you’re in Gryffindor?”

“As if they need the confirmation,” James scoffed.

“Wait - what do you mean your mum called it?” Y/N’s brows furrowed together as she registered what else James had said.

“Ages ago! When you first-” James caught himself, “when you first started to ask about the House system. She told me and Dad that she reckoned you’d be a Hufflepuff.”

“She never told me that,” Y/N frowned and James shrugged.

“Well she told me,” Y/N gave him a withering look.

“I figured,” she met Sirius’ eyes over James’ shoulder and he gave her the same cocky smirk that Y/N was beginning to realise was a near-permanent fixture for him.

“Hey,” he nodded at her.

“Gryffindor, huh?” Sirius’ smirk seemed to fall briefly, a slightly worried look on his face as he responded, though he tried to cover it with a poor substitute of his previous confidence.

“My Mum’ll be so proud.” James snickered, glancing at his new friend.

“These are our other dormmates, by the way,” James said, gesturing to the other three boys who had joined in with the conversation held by the other Hufflepuff boys who had turned up shortly after the Gryffindors. “That’s Remus, Peter and - you remember Dad talking about Frank?”

“Your dad was talking about me?” Frank asked, breaking out of the conversation to shoot a confused look at James and Y/N.

“Mine was telling us that he went to school with your Mum,” James explained cheerfully, no hint of the embarrassment that Y/N was feeling having been caught in such an odd conversation.

“Right…” there was still an air of unsureness in Frank’s voice.

“How was your first night anyway? You doing okay?” James lowered his voice a little, clearly knowing that Y/N wouldn’t want for their classmates to overhear him checking up on her. “You sleep okay?” He added knowingly.

“It was fine, James - I’m fine, I promise,” Y/N said with a smile and gave a half shrug, glancing back to her new friends. “They all seem really lovely.”

“I’m glad,” James smiled, nudging her shoulder with his. “And last night - you didn't…?”

“No - not last night,” she confirmed. Y/N suddenly looked to Sirius, who she realised had been standing with them as they spoke, looking interested. “I snore,” was the first thing she could think of as an explanation.

Sirius started to laugh and Y/N’s embarrassment washed over her, not that she had time to dwell on it when Beatrice grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the classroom that Professor Flitwick had just entered into.

“You’ll sit with me, right?”

They found a table together in the middle of the classroom, Y/N sliding into the chair nearest the window, Liane and Jessica sitting in the row in front of them, Eric joining a fellow Hufflepuff boy at the table beside them. It was no surprise at all to Y/N that James and his new friends took seats right at the back of the classroom.

“Who was that?” Beatrice whispered to her as Flitwick started his lecture.

“I’m trying to listen,” Y/N returned and Beatrice fell silent.

“No you’re not - you’re doodling!” Beatrice accused, her voice still too low to be heard by anyone other than Y/N.

“Relevant doodling?” Y/N offered and Beatrice gave her a withering look, not bothering to reply further than that.

“Now it’s over to you to have a go! Remember - swish and flick!” Flitwick announced, clapping his hands cheerfully.

“Any chance you were actually paying proper attention?” Y/N asked Beatrice as Flitwick waved his wand and feathers flew across the room to land one in front of each student.

“The levitating charm,” Lily whispered from the table behind them. Y/N looked over her shoulder at the Gryffindor girl who was smiling. “You know - Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Thanks,” Y/N whispered in return.

“But who is he?” Beatrice repeated again, the classroom filling with noise as the eager First Years began to cast their first spells. Y/N got her own out of her robes and shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just a guy I grew up with - our parents were friends.”

#sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x hufflepuff!reader #sirius black series #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #Penny For Your Thoughts #PFYT

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