it's not like i looked forward to seeing that movie with you all week or anything

Mouth o’ Mine

Harry X Reader: Angst, smut

In which Harry’s no good with his words but he sure is good with his mouth.

Request? Yes:

some harry face sitting action maybe?

Author’s note: This is a continuation of “Mess o’ Mine.” I would suggest reading that first, if you haven’t already. I thought this was gonna be the end but then I fucked up so… there’s also a part 3. Hope you enjoy! I did!

Part 1: Mess o’ Mine // Part 3: Mind o’ Mine


You’ve been running through the events that have occurred, confused at the escalation and the outcome. No issues have been resolved, and there wasn’t really a conversation or discussion. You don’t know any more than you did when you heard Harry singing your poems. Has he used your writing in more songs on his album?  Has he read your whole journal? God, you hope not. One poem is bad enough.

Harry hasn’t been around, hasn’t tried calling for the two weeks since he showed up on your doorstep. You’ve flipped the channel whenever he shows up on your television and scrolled at record speed when he’s popped up on your social media feeds. Maybe you should feel relieved and cleansed of his toxicity, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a little broken, like your stomach is splintering into pieces, and your mind still feels split open. Not only that, but you can smell him, feel the weight of him on top of you, taste the foreign flavor of his mouth. This isn’t what you need.

A whole other wave of confusion has rolled over you in terms of your relationship with Harry, if there still is one. The two of you have crossed a line without any prior thought or contemplation. Years upon years of friendship have been threatened, and you’re not even sure how it happened. Why did he kiss you? How did the two of you end up in bed, naked between the sheets? If you were confused about it before, trying to figure things out has only worsened your introspection.

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home || nolan holloway smut

request: Hi! I’m in love with your writing and I was wondering if you could write something for Nolan based off these two from the dating headcanon (late night drives to the middle of nowhere and looking at the stars, soft sex)
pairing: reader x nolan holloway
warning(s): SMUT (please don’t read if you aren’t comfortable)
listen to: faux - ed tullett, novo amor
word count: 2.887
note(s): this is my first time writing smut so please FORGIVE ME BC IT’S PROBABLY TRASH, and also nolan isn’t a bad guy he’s just a scared little puppy fite me on thiS.

Originally posted by fytwolf

“Look at him! Look!”

You were jolted awake by a yelp, followed by the sound of a young male yelling and people murmuring. Quickly moving the book off your lap, you stood up from the library floor and made your way to the where the commotion was coming from. You see Nolan, your boyfriend of almost a year, gripping Corey’s wrist in one of his hands, and a pen with blood covering the tip in his other.

Your eyes widen as you understood what Nolan had done and without a thought you quickly walk over to him. Nolan’s attention was averted from Corey’s ability to heal from a stab in less than 5 seconds to the sound of your heeled boots clicking against the wood floor, as he looked up at you. On your face he noticed a mixture of emotions; fear, worry, anger.

“Nolan, what the hell?!” you pried his hand from Corey’s wrist and dragged him out of the library, to the parking lot where you stopped, pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath. “What were you thinking? You’re gonna get suspended!”

“(Y/N), you don’t understand! I’m trying to prove it.” Nolan stuffed his pen into his backpack and took a step towards you. But just as he took a step forward, you took one backwards.

“Prove what?” you shook your head as you scoffed.

“Corey isn’t just human. You’ve seen him disappear and then appear out of nowhere. Neither is Liam, haven’t you seen him throw a lacrosse ball into the net and it just– it just pierces through? And you know that the “wolf” on the lacrosse field the other night wasn’t just a “wolf”. And what about the thing in the lib-”

“Nolan, just let it go, please.” You stepped forward until you reached him and took his hands in yours, rubbing his fingers gently with your thumb. He roughly broke out of your hold and slammed a fist against the school wall.

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🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.
Woman

“…should we just search romantic comedies on netflix and see what we find?”

Anonymous asked: can you do a fluff where bucky and the reader accidentally fall asleep together? thanks!

A/N: That is adorable. Here it is!

Warnings: none

Originally posted by elves-n-angels

You were left in the tower alone. 

Almost.

The couch was covered in blankets and pillows, the air conditioning was blasting, and the Netflix logo rested brightly in the center of the huge flatscreen in front of you. 

You were utilizing the best of the movie room as you could, and you were grateful Tony had put it in in the first place. Popcorn was already popped, and the familiar boom of the Netflix app opening caused you to smile. 

Finally, you were able to relax and enjoy some downtime in between missions. 

Just as you were about to fully sink into the cushions of the couch, the door opened, allowing the light of the hallway to seep into the mostly dark room. 

Remember that ‘almost’?

“Bucky what the fuck?” You groaned, blocking the hallway light and throwing the covers over your head. 

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I trust you

Summary: the reader watches a scary movie with Bucky, but after a bet things escalate pretty quickly. 

word count: 2267

Authors note: GUYS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS!! I don’t know how I did it; but its THE perfect mixture of smut and fluff!! 

You were excitedly making your way to the compounds living room, expecting everyone else to be at the bar. When you walked into the room you saw Bucky sitting on the couch, absentmindedly flicking through channels.

When you entered the room he picked his head up, “Hey doll, what’s up?”. You still got butterflies in your stomach each time he called you that, even if you knew it was just a name.

You raised at eyebrow, “Aren’t you supposed to be at Mels with the rest of them?”. You watched that infamous smirk of his form upon his lips.

Leaning back into the couch he said, “You don’t have to hide the fact that you’re excited to see me doll”. You rolled your eyes, hoping it would hide your blush.

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The Snow Globe

by reddit user NP-CO

“Janie honey,” My mother said as we left the funeral. “That lawyer gave me a key.”

“A key?” I said.

“It seems that Aunt Tabitha left you something. Locked in a safe deposit box.”

“Really? I asked turning to my mother. “But wasn’t she poor?”

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Sick

Prompt:  Hiya! I’m in love with your writing??? I wanted to ask, can we have something cute with polyamsanders, with Birgil coming down with a cold and being a grumpy miserable little ball of fluff and the other sides doing their best to make him feel better? I’m a sucker for sickfic. Thanks! - @dashing-hyphen

Notes: I love this idea. So much. I cannot overstate how much I love this idea. <3 Also, thank you for the kind words about my writing! <3

Pairing: Polyamsanders (romantic or platonic, though it probably reads more platonic, or at least pre-romantic)

Warnings: Mentions of fever and sickness. No stomach stuff though. 

*

“I’m not even sure how you managed this,” Logan said, taking the thermometer from Virgil’s mouth and frowning at the temperature read out. “We’re not even human–not technically. How did you manage to get sick?” 

“S’not the first time,” Virgil mumbled. Because it wasn’t. The others had just…never noticed before. And why should they? Until recently, Virgil had spent most of his time holed up in his room, only emerging when he was needed for something specific, and almost never spending downtime with any of them. He wasn’t a masochist, after all, and he wasn’t a total jerk, despite what they thought. He had no desire to force his way in and try to make a place for himself where there simply wasn’t one.

Since he’d revealed his name, though, they’d been reaching out to him more and more, acting as if they actually wanted him around, and…well. Virgil had to admit it was…nice. Really nice. They paid attention to him now, and even more amazingly, they noticed thingsIf he didn’t show up for meals too many times in a row, or if he declined movie invitations too often, they sought him out. They used a tag-team style approach with it; no doubt they thought they were being terribly subtle, but it was always the same strategy. Logan came in first, with his nonthreatening, clinically logical suggestions that Virgil leave his room and get a change in scenery. If that failed, Roman was his back-up, using the trappings of their previously antagonistic relationship in an effort to goad Virgil into doing what he wanted. If that too failed, they called in the heavy artillery. It wasn’t exactly playing fair, but…well, Virgil could never resist Patton’s puppy dog eyes.

In fact, the whole thing had become something of a game, and one that never failed to leave Virgil feeling warm and fuzzy inside. And normally, he loved it (not that he’d admit that to them. He did have a reputation to upkeep). 

But it had its downsides, too. It meant he didn’t get as much time alone as he had before, which was sometimes a bummer. And it also meant he couldn’t hide it, when he was having genuinely bad days–or when he was sick. 

Like now. 

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@c2ndy2c1d jack and johnny watching a scary movie

YOU GOT IT BABE. I have this weird au headcanon that Jack went back to the past–but only to Johnny’s timeline, and he’s stuck there. So I ran with it. Sidenote that I know it’s canon that Johnny is “afraid of very little save for clowns” but for my purposes he get spooked by anything “scary”


There was a strange sense of exhaustion weighing heavily over Jack’s shoulders as he stepped through the threshold of his and Johnny’s small apartment. 

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3

Author: @punkof-pop
Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader
Words: 4,187
Warnings: Smut, bits of fluff, angst
Request: Anon- TheoXreader imagine with prompts 4, 9, 36, 48
Song: Hurricane (stripped version) - Halsey

A/N: I have never written smut a day in my life so I’m REALLY sorry if it’s awkward or weird. I tried my hardest and I gotta start somewhere in order to improve. It’d mean a lot if I got some feedback!
Masterlist
Prompt list


You’re standing in the hallway with Kira, Malia, Stiles, Scott, and Lydia, now that the school day has finally come to an end. Your attention is pulled from the conversation when you spot the stunning green-eyed boy from down the hall. He smirks and bites his bottom lip as he notices you staring at him.

“Who’re you staring at?” Malia asks, breaking your stare.

“No one.” You lie as your cheeks shoot red.

Malia’s eyes narrow as she sniffs you. You back away one step and scrunch your face. “What’s his name?” Malia asks with a smile.

“You can’t lie to her.” Stiles says with a nod.

“Come on, what’s his name?” Scott asks as with his overprotective nature.

“I,” You start as you hold your head up and take a few steps away from the group. “have homework.” You give a bragging smile as you continue to step backward.

“Oh come on! Give us something!” Stiles’s pushes with a large smile.

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What’s Yours is Mine

Summary: Sam and Dean enjoy sharing each other’s clothes.

Warning: Smut, blow jobs, anal sex

Word Count: 3150

A/N: I enjoyed writing this request so much! Hope you all like it, too! XOXO


Sam’s been wearing Dean’s hand-me-down clothes since he was born. In every one of Dean’s childhood memories, he can see Sam wearing his old clothes, sleeves too long, waistbands too loose, stray threads sticking out at the seams.

But when Sam hits puberty, they start fitting almost perfectly. Sam’s a little skinnier than Dean, but it never really shows in the clothing. Proper fit didn’t stop Sam from hating them, though.

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Smut hoe is back? *temporarily*

Yall….

I’ve been working on this fic for like ever. and I never finished it.  And tonight  decided to. The *smutty* part isnt that good but whatever. I did it.

“Bottled up”

You x Jackson Wang (GOT7) 

Feat best friend Bam Bam (non-sexual friendship)

Rated M 

Smut

One Shot.

*Disclaimer*: If you dont like smut dont read it.  Just dont do it. 

“You didn’t have to pay for my flight! What the hell Bam!” You yelled on the phone with your best friend Bam Bam.  You had discovered a notification in your email that your round trip to Thailand was booked. Only you didn’t book anything yet.

“Just think of it as a late birthday present,” He said laughing.” “I can afford it love.”

“Yeah but you know I’ve been saving up to come to Thailand! I got the money silly.”

“Use it to go shopping!” He said, chuckling in the phone.  You hated when Bam Bam paid for you. Especially because you work.  Sure he was your best friend and an idol, but you didn’t want to use him for his money. Your eyes rolled. You wanted to make it up to him but had no idea how. The boy had everything. He was the fashion king so you couldn’t buy him a new outfit. He’s already ahead of the fashion game.

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Unfortunate Events

Request: Can you do a tom holland x reader where the reader and tom are filming Spider-Man 2 and her father passes away and the cast, especially try’s to support her because she can’t go home cause of the film, but the reader is kind of pushing everyone away a bit and has a panic attack during a scene. And Tom try’s to make the reader feel better. ITS ALOT OMG (I love you writing by the Way)

Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: I only have a few words, beside this imagine idea is absolutely adorable :) BUT I SAW SPIDER-MAN FOR THE SECOND TIME, and i loved it just as much as the first time. Now, I’ve been in a bit of a craze but i’d love if you guys could send in Peter Parker/Tom Holland requests like this lovely follower here. Of course, request anything else you’d like :) but i thought i’d still ask! 

Pairing: Tom x Reader

Warnings: mention of death.


Originally posted by parkrpeters

When you’d been called for the filming of the returning Spider-Man sequel you’d been happier than could be. You had played a role in Spider-Man: Homecoming, but not a huge one as the first movie had only been leading up to your character arc. You were meant to play a much larger role this movie and Peter Parker’s renowned love interest. 

Of course, you originally hadn’t thought that your role would blossom into anything (the creators hadn’t really told you) and you didn’t expect your characters small role in the first film to be so well loved. You hadn’t thought anything of the film until now, but that didn’t mean you weren’t excited. Filming for the first film you’d been able to make lots of new friends, including the star of the film, Tom Holland.

You all were a close bonded cast and you couldn’t ask for more, being invited back was the best part.

But within a month of filming for the movie, the excitement seemed to disappear and with some upsetting news it seemed harder and harder to get up everyday only to see yourself in a city you didn’t belong in. Your father had passed away, unfortunately and it had hit you hard. Not just because you couldn’t leave because of filming but because your father and yourself had always had a really close relationship. He had been the one to inspire you to act and having him gone made you feel as if acting was pointless. 

Your father would never see you make it big. Would never see you play this huge role in a highly anticipated movie. He’d never get to see you in something you were immensely proud of.

You couldn’t go back and support your family, be with your loved ones and you wouldn’t be there for his funeral. It was crushing you. Of course the cast had been the best, trying to support you the best they could. But even with their undying support, it didn’t seem to matter and you’ve begun pushing them away. It hurt you, but you just couldn’t seem to stop blocking them off from your personal life.

The worst was Tom. Being his love interest in this film meant you had a lot, mainly any scene with you in it, with him. You’d been close before but this seemed to only bring you closer. You felt immense guilt every time you shoved away his attempt at supporting you because you knew he was only trying to help and you were in the wrong. But it hurt to let someone in. You weren’t sure why, you just knew it did.

Today seemed to be the hardest day of all, and it made sense. From your many phone calls with your mum, you knew today was your father’s funeral. Today was also the day you were suppose to film a scene between your character and Peter where you two finally started dating. It was a well-rehearsed scene and you had Tom had been practicing your lines day and night to get the scene perfect as it was planned to be one of the best scenes. But you couldn’t focus.

Staring at Tom, you regarded the outfit he’d been put in for the film. Normally, had it been a week ago, you would’ve probably thought he looked quite handsome. But now you couldn’t focus on much. 

The director signalled you both to start, and taking a deep breath you tried to push the funeral to the back of your mind and focus on the scene. 

“Y/C/N…” Tom started slowly, hesitantly like Peter was suppose to. He took a tentative step forward, his cheeks flushed and his breath fanning on your face. You were the same height as him, maybe even a bit taller. His close proximity was making you feel faint, all emotions flooding. “I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Stop!” You suddenly bellowed out, effectively stunning everybody. You barely recognized that that was probably the most unprofessional thing you could’ve done. Your head fell to your hands, and you shook your head your breath shaking.

“Y/N?” Tom called out. Panicked he turned to the director, pleading with his eyes. Tom didn’t have to ask to know what this was about.

“Everybody five.” The director called, “Y/N, take ten.”

You didn’t even hear his words, you could only focus on your tears and your rapid heart beat. Your dad was dead. And you just couldn’t live with that reality.

Before you knew it, a hand grabbed your upper arm, pulling you away from the stage and off to the side. You knew who it was. “Y/N,” Tom started, “please I wanna help.”

“He’s dead.” You mumbled, shaking. “You can’t help!” 

“Yes i can!” Tom pushed, pulling away your hands from your face so he could see you. Looking into your eyes, he grabbed ahold of your arms again. “If you let me.”

“I don’t know if I can continue…” You take a deep breath; “doing this without him. He was my rock and now i can’t even be there for his funeral! What kind of daughter am I?”

“A great one.” Tom answered; “one who loved her father more than anything.” 

You sob, biting your lip. Tom lets go of your arms, opening his own. You immediately walk into them, accepting his embrace. “You can do this, Y/N, I know you can. Just let me hold you.”

“Okay.”

A Case of You;

Summary: There was always an age gap between Y/N and Tony, which was the only reason he never confessed his true feelings for her. But after a near death experience when Y/N sacrifices herself for him, Tony decides to open up; helping her through rehab and recovery, they grow closer.

A/N: I would put Y/N’s age around 23-25. I hope everyone likes this! Please like/reblog/follow, because I’m looking for some more Marvel-related blogs to follow. Thanks for reading xx

“Got a few Hydra guys headed towards you from your right, Y/N!” Sam called into the comm, causing Y/N to swing around in response. She took on a defensive stance, ready to take them out when they were suddenly blasted away by Iron Man. 

She rolled her eyes, internally cursing Tony Stark for a second while she got back to work. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” Y/N said as she jogged along, heading towards their target: an old, recently abandoned munitions factory that was adapted to be a Hydra hideout. This particular location was flagged specifically for the Avengers to destroy, since SHIELD intelligence reported the possible development of new Winter Soldiers. That’s why they were down a man this week, too. Steve made the call for Bucky Barnes to sit out this mission (which led to a series of destroyed computers and a broken table, none of which particularly bothered Tony). 

Because of this handicap, Y/N and the others were forced to be everywhere at once. Sam’s reconnaissance drone buzzed about, gathering information to warn them about upcoming enemies. Y/N was literally all over the place, teleporting from one area to another, depending on where the fighting was the heaviest. The Avengers crew spent almost as much time dodging Steve’s shield as they did fighting. 

“Thank you works, too,” Tony simply responded, flying alongside her as they neared the building. “Almost there, ladies and gentlemen. Everything outside clear?” Tony asked everyone.

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear here, too.”

“Clear. Let’s just get this over with,” Clint responded impatiently, “I’m cooking for the wife tonight.”

Y/N made eye contact with Steve, who nodded in acknowledgement, before busting down the door to the surprisingly unfortified building. Perhaps they thought their biggest defense was the secrecy of the place? “I have an odd feeling about this,” Y/N said nervously into the comm system, “Why isn’t it more heavily protected?” 

No one else said anything, however, as they finally entered. The entire area was dead silent as each member of the team carefully stepped across the concrete floor, looking for anyone who was waiting to attack. “Tony, Y/N, Clint-go right,” Steve commanded quietly into the comm system, “Wanda, Natasha, Sam, and I will go left.”

While Tony and Clint walked as quietly forward as they could, Y/N teleported ahead to clear the area.

“Everything seems okay out here,” Y/N reported at a normal volume, seeing as there was apparently no one to give away their location to. 

“Same here,” Natasha said, sounding as suspicious as the other girl was. When Tony and Clint finally caught up, they joined her in searching the area. “We’ll be heading your way in a minute after we shake this area down.”

The girl noticed Tony, having just taken off the suit for better mobility, hunched over something in the corner. “Tony, What is that?” Almost as soon as she asked, though, she knew it was a bomb. “Don’t come over here!” Y/N yelled hoarsely into the comm, so loudly it made Clint jump and pull his earpiece out, “There’s a bomb-I repeat, there’s a bomb.”

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Peter Parker Falling in Love With You. . .

Originally posted by warinfinities

  • So you both go to Midtown– and you’re the same age (in this story anyway)
  • You’ve seen each other around school and across the room cause you have most of the same classes, but you don’t really KNOW each other and you’re not friends. it’s just “Oh yeah, it’s that F/N girl from calculus” and “Right, that’s that Parker kid who’s in my lit class.” BUT THAT’S IT, NOTHING ELSE.
  •  Until the day Peter realizes he needs tutoring.

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It Suits You - Part 2 - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 19,043 (Whole Story); 6,498 (Part 1); 12,545 (Part 2)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Toys, Oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, bondage, riding, 69, doggy over a desk, shower sex, Dylan in a suit multiple times.

Notes: Someone end the mobile app. It sucks.

Part 1

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Welp. Ended up doodling this little cinnamon roll instead of doing my overflowing mountain of HW
fuuuuuck me :’)
but anyway

a hint of Gramander because again, I’ve fallen into another fandom pit and I just can’t seem to claw my way out

but I thought I’d maybe write something for it
please don’t judge though, I’m pretty shit at writing and I’ve never done it before so here goes nothing
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

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Imagine being patricks little sister and the loser club being scared of you. Beverly tries to befriend you but richie isnt happy.

——

Being the little sister of a protective bully was always going to be difficult. Half the kids hated you the other half of kids sucked up to you. Your brother was Patrick Hocksteader, part of henrys crew of dickheads. Ever since he walked you to school on your first day people treated you as his sister not as your own person. People you’d know since you were 5 were now too scared to talk to you let alone be friends with you. The only kids who wanted to be your friend were the kids as bad as Henry who assumed you were as bad as your brother. At first you didnt mind being friends these kids, having crap friends was better than none? But as the year went your dislike for them grew, especially when you saw what they did to the other kids. It took you a whole year to realise it was better to eat lunch alone than with kids who got a kick out of teasing 10 year olds.

Your old “friends” took you leaving as an insult but as you were Patrick’s sister never dared approached you on the subject. The only teased from afar and never up close. All the other kids didnt know what to do. They saw you ditching the group of assholes as a good thing but were still scared of you brother. Seeing it as too much hassle to talk to you all the kids just pretended you didnt exist. You could go days without speaking at school. You’d learn and eat in silence, never speaking to anyone after learning long ago there’s no point in trying to make friends. Patrick ignore this and all his friends banished the rumours you were a loner, leaving you as a pointless person in school.

On your first day back at school after the summer you had science with a new class and a new seatig plan. The teacher sat you next to beverly. Youd know beverly partially, as in you heard a lot about her, mainly from henry, but knew it wasnt true. Your first science assignment in your new seat was to do a project with your partner, which unfortunately for you required talking.

“Hi” she smiled “im Beverly”. “I know…i mean yeah I’ve seen you…I’m y/n”. Beverly grinned at your babbling. You weren’t used to people being nice to you and found it intimidating. You worked hard on the project in class but when the week was up you still hadn’t finished it. You offered to take it home and finish it but beverly said that wasn’t fair and suggested you meet up to finish it. You didn’t want beverly around at yours, henry would be there and well it would t be pretty. Beverly sensed this and asked why didn’t you meet up at the park tomorrow at 12. You agreed and beverly grinned when you said you’d come. “Ill see you there” she smiled patting your arm before she hurried away.

You were ten minutes late to the park and you were very nervous. You weren’t completely sure beverly was going to show. You’d convinced yourself she was just teasing you, she wasn’t really being nice to you, nobody was unless they wanted something from you. You arrived at your agreed spot and looked around. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you couldn’t see her. Embarrassment rushed through you as you felt colour rise into your cheeks. “Y/n”. You turned around and to your surprise beverly marsh stood before you. “Your here” beverly smiled. It took you a while to talk and when you did all you could do was stutter. “Beverly….hi…hi im yeah, sorry im late”. Beverly grinned telling you it didn’t matter.

You were both laid on the floor staring up at the sky. Youd finished the project hours ago but it was such a nice day you both decided to stay for a while. Beverly was so nice to you that you decided she must be a nice person. You were still very cautious of her but came t the conclusion that you liked her.
Beverly laughed “i love that book but did you hear about the movie?”.
Your turned as you heard people call to beverly, your heart sinking as you saw it was bill and the loser club. They ditched their bikes and stopped when they saw you sat next to her. Bill recovered the fastest “hey bev weve been looking all over for you”. “Ow me and y/n had a science project and then decided to hang out for a bit”. “Ow cool” bill nodded sitting next to beverly. Stan smiled at you sitting down next to bill but thats where the pleasantries ended. The others all sat behind bill and stan, not even near you, richie and eddie sitting the furthest away. The other four seemed to not even want to breathe in your presence and treated the situation as if beverly had befriended a grenade. Stan and bill felt bad and chatted with beverly about random things but made sure to include you. You noticed the looks richie was shooting bill and stan so decided to leave. “Thanks for today beverly but i think im gonna go now”. “Aw really?” Beverly asked “are you sure you cant stay?”. “Ow i don’t wanna intrude” you shrugged. “Your not” stan smiled “were just hanging out”. Richie and eddie threw each other looks and you glanced to them making them go red. “No i really should go”. “Well it was nice meeting you” bill smiled and stan nodded “bye”. The others echoed a bye and you walked away when beverly caught you up. “Hey y/n” she said “it was real fun hanging out with you today”. You smiled “i enjoyed it too”. She grinned “so were going to the lake tomorrow and i wanted to know if you wanted to come with”. “I don’t think your friends would like that very much” you laughed awkwardly. “Ow no stan and bill are cool with it and the others don’t mind really there just boys”. “Its fine really im busy tomorrow” you told her “maybe another time”. “Aw okay but heres my number” she said writing it on your wrist “call me if you want to hang out or anything”.

A few days and you managed to use your compulsive over thinking to convince yourself that beverly was only being nice to you because of your brother and that she didnt really like you. And so you never called her not until your mom brought up the fact you hadn’t been out of the house on weekends for 2 months. Your dad had got 4 free tickets for a fun fair from work and your mom thought it would be a great idea for you to take some friends. You said you would just to please her but had no intention of going. You decided to give them to beverly so rang her. You were so nervous you actually jumped when she picked up the phone. “Hello beverly…its y/n” you said meekly. “Y/n” beverly said happily “ive been wondering if you’d call how are you?”. “Im good erm listen i have some free rickets to a funfair and i wondered if you wanted them”. “Dont you want them?” Beverly asked. “Well…erm i haven’t been in years and just thought you’d like the tickets and could go have fun”. Beverly paused for a moment and then agreed “the funfair would be fun which is why i think you should come”. “But i only have 4 tickets”. “Hey thats cool me and you could go and then bill and Stan said for ages they’ve wanted to go too, wed have so much fun”. You hesitated and beverly could sense your nerves. “Listen i know richie and eddie were dicks the other week but i promise stan and bill arent like that i promise wed have fun”. “Okay” you said kicking yourself. “Really?” Beverly asked “awesome”. You laughed “so when do you wanna go?”.

You and beverly walked to bills house on your way to the funfair. Him and stan were waiting outside and they both greeted you like your brother wasn’t a prick which you appreciated. Stan smiled at you “hey y/n thanks so much for the tickets”. “Yeah its real cool how your dad them for free”. Bill agreed “Ow its nothing” you shrugged and beverly steered you all in the direction of the funfair. Stan and bill were as nice to you as beverly and you found they were nice to talk to. You were soon confident enough to chat to them and you found you had lots in common with them. You were starting to actually look forward to the fun fair until you spotted richie and the others up ahead.

“There you you shitheads are my grandmother walks faster than you”. “Richie?” Stan asked “what the hell are you doing here?”. “Heard you were going to the funfair and me eddie ben and mike thought that sounds like a great idea”. “Ow cool” bill said but beverly and stan looked angry. As you lined up for tickets stan said something to richie who replied “i can do what i want alright”. You used your free tickets and got the four of you in and stood awkwardly by beverly. “so what do you want to do?” She asked “did we say ghost train first?”. “Yeah” stan laughed reluctantly “come on lets get it over with”. “So death drop first yeah?” Richie asked separating bill and Stan from you. “come on bill you’ve got to try it with us, i thought you could come with me and ben”. “And stan you could do with me and mike” eddie finished. Bill stuttered trying to make everyone happy but stan shook his head “nah thats okay you all go together were gonna go this way”. Richie laughed “is someone a chicken”. “No someones pissed because you werent invited but classic Richie you had to show up”. Bill grabbed stan “okay we’ll see you around bye guys”. Richie gave up and let you go glaring until you were out of sight. “Sorry hes such a dick” stan said and you shook your head “hey its okay dont worry about it”. “Yeah lets just forget about them and have fun okay?” Beverly asked and you smiled.

An hour later and you actually having fun. Richie and Eddie kept appearing trying to get Stan and bill to join them but the boys kept refusing. Even after you’d told all three of them they could if they wanted to. Stan was the first to respond and told you he didn’t want you to leave which made you embarrassed. You decided you liked Stan almost as much as beverly and felt comfortable with all of them. You were walking across the grass when all 3 of them stopped and looked behind you. You followed their gaze and saw it landed on Henry. Henry smirked as he saw them and then saw you. You saw him look to your brother and Patrick said something to him. Henry shook his head and Patrick stood up looking angry. Henry went to walk towards you but Patrick grabbed his arm. You could see they were arguing when eventually henry slunk off away from you. Patrick looked up at you and then followed his friend. “Wow” Stan said “your brother made Henry back off”. “Yeah well my brother isn’t always a complete dick”. Beverly smiled “i can see that, it was nice of him”. You looked down awkwardly and bill cut in. “Hey y/n wa…wa…want to go on the bumper ca…ars”. You nodded at him gratefully and walked towards them.

All night patrick managed to control henry and keep him from going near you and the others but the same couldnt be said for richie and the rest. You heard yells come around the back of a rollercoaster and Stan frowned. “That sounds like ben”. A string of curses followed by a grunt told you richie was there too. You ran around to the back and saw your brother and his friends beating richie eddie mike and ben up. Patrick had richie against a wall amd had his knife to his cheek. Patrick had eddie in a headlock and the others two laughed as he went through eddies bag. Ben was on the floor with one of the guys foot his chest and mike was trying to help eddie. Patrick shoved mike on the floor and henry howled with laughter. “You’re an asshole you know that?” Richie spat. Henry laughed “you know eye surgery can help you see better, why don’t why try that?” He asked looking at his knife. “Henry stop” you yelled running forward. You yanked his arm away and stepped between him and Richie. “Back off y/n” he said “just walk away”. “No you need to leave these guys alone now!”. “Y/n” Patrick said “just go away okay, these people aren’t your friends”. “So its fine for you to beat them up? No they don’t deserve that its not fair”. “Okay y/n if you don’t move ill beat you up too” henry snarled. “You’re not touching my sister” Patrick yelled. “I will if she doesn’t move”. “If you even try to touch her” Patrick said yanking henry away from you. Henry turned around and looked at him “what?”. “I said you just try to touch her”. “Look i know shes family but shes being a bitch”. “If she says we cant touch them then we cant, were not hurting my sister, got it?”. Henry squared up to Patrick and time seemed to slow down as they stared at one another. Eventually henry sighed “lets get out of here, its lame”. Henry barged Patrick and walked away. Patrick followed him and so did the others. You let out your breath and turned around to Richie. You held out a hand to help him up “you okay?”. “Why did you do that?” He asked after you’d yanked him up. “Because i wanted to” you shrugged. “But you didn’t have to. Nobody asked you to”. “Richie for god sake cant you just be grateful!” Stan spat. “No I’ve been nothing but rude to her all night, i didn’t include you i tried to ruin your night so why would you help me?”. “I might be my brothers sister but that doesn’t mean i like what he does” you frowned. “But still like you could’ve easily have just walked away and let them beat me up after how i acted, i deserved it”. “People always act weird because of my brother” you shrugged “so no offence but if you think how you acted tonight is anything special your wrong”. Richie looked down embarrassed “Well thanks for helping me not get my ass kicked”. “Its okay” you shrugged. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you”. You laughed “like i said its nothing major”. “Still though its not right” Richie said awkwardly. “No its not” beverly said “You shouldn’t have to take that”. “Well i know its not great but like what can i do?” You asked “i cant change how people feel about me”. The others didn’t really know how to reply to that and looked down. “No i know you cant, trust me i do” beverly nodded “but you don’t have to go through it alone” she smiled “not anymore”. “What?” You asked. “Yeah” Richie nodded “were not scared of you anymore, i wont act like i did again i promise, you can hang around with us…i mean if you want”. “You don’t have to do this” you frowned. “No y/n” Stan said “we mean it, we like you”. You smiled. Bill nodded “yeah we do” he smiled. You grinned and beverly laughed putting an arm around you “so its decided”. “Welcome to the losers club” Richie announced.

Little Bird (2)

Originally posted by gweonteam

CHAPTER 1

Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: angst, slow burn

A/N: Updated twice in a weekend! Who the hell do I think  I am?!? Enjoy! Also hopefully this chapter clarifies the reader’s age a little for those who were confused in the first chapter. Sorry about that, I wasn’t as clear as I should have been which is why I revised a few lines in it. The reader is definitely over 18!


“Tony, can you please watch the surveillance of the safe house while I run out and get supplies?” Nat threw on the backpack with extra clothes for you and grabbed her keys as she headed to the door.

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→ wips tag

So while I’m still on hiatus for personal reasons, I am also still writing. It’s all coming along slowly, but even though I’m taking this small break from tumblr I would still like to share some of the things I’ve been working on, so thank you to @xtaexhyungx for tagging me, and I hope you guys enjoy! ♡

title: Splinter

pairing: jungkook | reader 

genre: smut, angst, college au

preview: 

Perhaps buried deep within the thumping bass, spilled liquor, and dimmed lights of every college party, you might just be able to find yourself a love story… Of course, it might not be perfect, far from perfect actually. However, at that age, or more specifically at that time in someone’s life, mistakes seem to be abundant. The factors are endless, so plentiful in fact that they pile on top of one another until this supposed love story — splinters.  

The fragments lay in a million pieces, each one telling their own little story of how it all ended.

Laid strewn at the forefront of that pile of broken pieces was the shard branded hormones. Those vibrant sensations that make your vision go blurry and judgment turn haywire. Those pesky little things that when mixed with alcohol make you forget all about that guy or girl you’re really into… That guy or girl that you’ve been dating for three months — that guy or girl that deserved way better than a fresh out of high school kid that didn’t know how to handle their fireball mixed with an empty bedroom upstairs at a party.  

Next is that gleaming shard of freedom. It burns bright. The second you step foot onto that college campus miles upon miles away from people telling you what to do, how to act, or where to stay, your tolerance for limitations shifts. Being held down to any given place, any given idea, or any given person, it causes a flight response. The body wanting to maintain its newfound freedom, relieving itself of the hindrance to their fresh independence… Plus, having the ability to run from your problems without a choir to comment isn’t exactly helpful either. So combine all of that, and maybe it results in some runaway act of studying abroad for a semester to dampen the feelings of guilt and love with culture shock and ample amounts of bodies… Yeah, that definitely puts a pause on things.  

Another piece laying sound in the graveyard is that dingy, jagged shard reflecting the uncertainty of the future. It’s that constant pressure that bombards you saying if you haven’t made a dent in the path towards your goal by the time you’re twenty-five, then you’re falling behind. This reality (even if it is false) sets in maybe three years down the line. Tailgating loses its taste, the library becomes your home even more so than it had been before, and your time for connections and relationships downsizes to the point of not even trying… Not even trying when that guy or girl is really making an attempt to reconcile with you, and even though your heart wants it, your mind says there’s no time for that now, at least nothing serious — maybe after medical school, because somewhere along the line our lives turned into planning how much fun our lives will be once X, Y, and Z happens some odd years down the road.

It’s these, along with many other fragments, that lay in a messy array around the relationship. Some are tiny and seemingly insignificant pieces, however once the micro aggressions start to build, they inevitably become one larger section of the puzzle. Some of the remains are large and shiny, others dirty and defiled. It’s all a shattered mess of emotions and incidents, but if you can somehow manage to pick up the pieces and realign the edges, then just maybe you can still see the beauty in what it all once was.

more wips below the cut~

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anonymous asked:

Kat, kat. U've read fma right? And you think edward is pretty right? (Say yes, please) Anyway, if you write fma, I want to be enabler. So, like. Maybe edwardxkakashi. Like, they could bond over their guilty feelings. And (my god. Why are they so pretty????) Stuff. Anyway, if u don't write fma xover, u can ignore this message. XD

I have read it, and I’ve actually written a couple f brief one-shots for it! Buuuut I’ve never thought of Kakashi/Ed before and nOW I WANT IT. 

So. Have a drabble. (Post-2013 anime, CoS!AU, because I adore Ed’s character design in that movie.)


Damn but Ed hates this place, with its stupid shitty weather and it’s stupid shitty prosthetics that can’t hold a candle to Winry’s automail, its constant wars and mercenary society when all he wants is a week without something exploding. Not to mention whatever ridiculous power system they use here that isn’t anything remotely like alchemy but manages to bring up pangs of familiarity every time Ed seems people do ridiculous things with it.

With a quiet grumble to himself, he hefts his groceries a little more firmly over his shoulder, trying not to smack anyone else, and turns towards the apartment he’s renting. The people here need shit fixed the same way anyone else does, and Ed’s managed to make something of a living. Teacher would drop-kick him in the face for using alchemy on most of it, but it gives Ed enough time to scour the library. The sharp-eyed librarian won’t let him into several of the sections—something about A-rank jutsus being restricted to civilians—and whatever Ed wants to say about the shinobi, they’re even better at sneaking than he is. No luck on that front so far, and nothing he’s found mentions crossing dimensions.

Ed is frustrated and his limbs hurt and he’s carrying thirty pounds of food because Al would give him a Look if he didn’t at least try to keep himself fed, so he can be excused for not seeing the asshole meandering down the street until he slams face-first into his uniform vest. There is, however, abso-fucking-lutely no excuse for the way the man lowers his book, blinks at Ed for a brief moment, and then says easily, “Ah, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

It’s been a long day. Ed’s gotten better at controlling his temper over the years, but something things are a bridge too fucking far. A vein in his temple throbs, and he steps forward with a snarl, stabbing a finger into the unnecessarily oversized idiot’s chest. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING TOO SHORT TO SEE WITH A MICROSOPE, HUH? I’m perfectly normal-sized, you gigantic moron, so step the fuck off!”

There’s a long, long moment of silence. The silver-haired man stares at him, something kindling in his eyes, and as the haze of rage lifts slightly Ed realizes with a plummeting sensation that he recognizes it all too well. It’s the same one Colonel Bastard wore the first time Ed blew up at him about one of his shitty height jokes.

A shiver of foreboding slides down Ed’s spine, but he can’t retreat now.

“Maa,” the man drawls, all breezy bullshit and mock-innocence in his visible eye. He flips his book shut, eye crinkling in a friendly smile, and adds, “I apologized, you know? No need to be short with me.”

Oh fuck. Ed’s traded one smug asshole of a bastard for another, and this is one facet of equivalent exchange he definitely could have done without.

“Look, buddy,” he grits out, and pretends he isn’t testing the weight of the sack over his shoulder. He could probably brain someone with it, given enough effort. And Ed’s never been scared of a bit of hard work. “You’re just asking to get your face pounded in, here. Back off, or I’m going to—”

That’s definitely delight growing in the man’s face. “Ah, it’s so admirable when people don’t let certain vertical challenges get in the way of their—”

Fuck it, he’s dead. Ed swings his grocery bag like a club, sees the man dodge with almost insulting ease, and sweeps underneath it with a kick to take the bastard out at the knees. He hops over it, dodges the punch Ed throws at his ribs, and flips over a second kick with a truly unnecessary flourish and flip.

“You’ve had training,” the man says, beaming, and he flips his book open again.

Ed eyes the distance between them, wonders if it’s too low to try and take him on his blind side, and decides that Teacher would never forgive him if he didn’t at least make an attempt. “You could say that. None of the twisty shit you guys do, but I get by.”

The man makes a noise of feigned surprise. “Oh? For someone with your reach, that’s impressive.”

Ed pictures pounding his face into the pavement and tries to set him on fire with his mind.

“I,” he manages when he can unlock his jaw, “have a perfectly decent reach, you bastard.”

Another flicker of amusement that he looks down at his book to cover, and Ed moves.

As fast as if he were fighting Teacher, he throws himself forward, feels the man dodge by a hair’s breadth before he plants one hand on the ground, pivots, and kicks out hard. It’s the left leg, so he can’t feel the impact as more than a jolt, but he can hear the wheeze of air leaving the asshole’s lungs before he flickers out of the way. Ed lunges again, lets the flare of his coat cover his movement, and punches up in a haymaker—

There’s a puff of smoke, a pop, and the bastard reappears on the other side of the street, nose buried in his lurid orange book, an unmistakable smile on his masked face.

“Sorry to cut this meeting short,” he says blithely, ignoring Ed’s wordless sound of rage, “but my cute little students have been waiting for two hours already. How impolite of you to hold me up further.”

Maybe he has a good reason for being that late, but since he’s absolutely an asshole, Ed rather doubts it. “You should stop worrying about them and worry more about how I’m going to kick your ass,” he growls, shoving his sleeve up. Only the left one, because the right arm is too good a surprise to waste. “You and your stupid tallness and your stupid fucking face—”

“I’ll have you know my face is very popular,” the man says mildly. “There’s a bounty on it and everything. Ah, but you might have missed it—they usually put the Bingo Book on the top shelf, and the library only has so many ladders.”

Die!” Ed roars, and launches himself headfirst at the man, who vanishes in a swirl of leaves. A faint giggle drifts back from the end of the street, and Ed abandons his groceries to their sad, squashed fate in the street and bolts after the bastard, fully prepared to chase him across the entire village if that’s what it takes to finally pound his face in.