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#And when he goes off repeating roll over and over that is also a mood

suugarbabe · 7 months

Note

HI! i saw that your requests are open?

could i request fic where y/n is drunk at a party and mattheo(her enemy) is just silently watching over her? and then maybe she gets ontop of a table and starts dancing and like after a while mattheo js like “nope thags too much lets go” and drags her to his room and maybe things get a lil spicy with reader confessing and saying how much she hates him to the point hes the only person she can think about. maybe something like “i hate you so much i wish you weren’t so beautiful, because maybe then i wouldnt be inlove with you”??

you dont have to write this if youre not comfy with it🫶🏼🫶🏼

mwuah mwuah much love!

🦈

anon

yes yes yes yes yes yes yes thaaaaank you

it's a party, you're having fun, you don't give a fuck about anything or anyone else, and that has nothing to do with your sour mood from five hours earlier.

So you down your drinks like you've been walking through the desert, fire whiskey after fire whiskey until you feel nothing but the music around you and the taste of cinnamon on your throat.

Mattheo see's you get wobblier as the night goes on, every fire whiskey you grab he gets more and more angry with anyone that even looks at you, which he would never admit, because he hates you and you hate him.

But when he sees you climb up on one of the tables, your skirt riding up and leaving little to the imagination he pushes himself off the wall, long strides getting him to you in less than twenty seconds.

You're so drunk it takes you a second to notice that you've not only been pulled from the table but also thrown over somebody's shoulder. You pound on his back, shouting to let you down and that they're ruining your fun.

"You've had enough fun for everyone at the party, princesa."

The nickname helps with your recognition just in time for Mattheo to place you down in front of him before he sits on the edge of his bed.

You crossed your arms, swaying a little as you pout at him, "W-what exactly do you think you're doing, Riddle?" You tried your best not to slurr, but it was a losing game.

Mattheo leaned back on his hands, "I saved you from embarrassing yourself, you'll thank me in the morning." The smirk he was wearing made you roll your eyes.

Your drunken state made you walk closer to him, standing right between him legs. You grabbed on to one of his thighs for stability, using your hand to point at him, "I hate you Mattheo Riddle."

His face was unchanging and you felt the need to go on, "I hate you, you big beautiful dumb idiot boy." Matteo quirked an eyebrow, mouth slightly agape with his smirk now.

"What did you just say, love?" You grabbed on to his thigh again, this time Mattheo grabbed hold of your waist to help stabilize you. "I saaaiiiddd...I wiiish that you weren't so bloody beautiful."

Mattheo couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm beautiful huh? Well you're one to talk, princesa."

You shook your head. "N-no," you placed a finger over his lips and he couldn't contain the smile that spread across them as you continued, "don't look at me with your dreamy eyes, call me that special nickname and make me fall more in love with you."

If you were more sober you'd regret the confession you'd just made. But instead you just pouted, mad at Mattheo for making you feel the way you did. You fully anticipated him to laugh, to make fun of you for what you just said, but instead you saw a softness in his eyes.

"Say it again."

Your head titled in confusion at his words.

"Tell me what you just said again," he repeated himself with more clear instructions.

You stood there, no longer wobbly due to Matteo's hold, but definitely sobering up the longer you've been talking. Your cheeks were beat red, whether that was from the alcohol or your confession was unclear, but regardless you did your best to stand up taller, look him straight into his deep brown eyes.

"I'm in love with you."

His lips were on yours as soon as you finished your last word, hot and heavy and messy. You're clawing at his shirt and you climb onto his lap, his hands squeezing and grabbing at your ass. You trail your lips across his jaw, down his neck and bite and lick, marking him as yours and the thought of others seeing is driving him crazy.

You go to push him down on the bed but he stops you, holding your wrists against his chest, "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

The pout of your bottom lip makes Mattheo weaker than he'd ever admit, "No, princesa, you did nothing wrong. But you're drunk, we can't go any further than this. I'm a dumb idiot boy but I'm not a scumbag."

He lifted you off his lap and on to the bed next to him. You watched him walk over to his wardrobe before stripping down to his boxers, grabbing one of his t-shirts and bringing it over to you.

"Put this on," you pulled your top off, Mattheo biting the inside of his cheek at your bare chest before you pulled his shirt on. As you shimmy your skirt off he pulled his duvet back, climbing into the bed next to you.

You sank deep into the covers, Mattheo wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close until your head is resting on his chest. Only then do you realize how tired you really are, how heavy your eyelids are and how thankful you are for the warmth of Mattheo's chest.

Your breathing steadied out as Mattheo's fingers trailed lightly up and down your arm. Mattheo kissed the top of your head, whispering softly to himself, "I'm in love with you too, princesa."

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle angst #🐬 anon #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fic

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circeyoru · 2 months

Note

It's almost my sleeping time so can I request again.

I just wonder How well the other react to Yandere Alastor go on a date with the reader.

I mean the people in the Hotel.

I know damn well them will be confused.

Especially what's her name again... Mimzy?

I have a feelings that she will be confused then everyone else.

That's all I hope you stay strong and healthy!

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}

Hi hi again!! You're going to be like a regular in my inbox now. Staying strong and healthy, thanks~

How well others react... Hmm.. If we're going with what happened for this ask, then it's gonna be interesting.

Everyone saw how you knocked Alastor out of the park with the first date. Angel was commenting on how Alastor should be the one to do that, not you. Husk slapped him upside the head to warn him to keep his mouth shut about that. What if Alastor heard that? He didn't cause all eyes and ears on you.

Later on, the dates were like a rotation between you and Alastor leading. Though it was easy to know who the date was for; if it's Alastor, you two would be out of the hotel; if it's for you, the two of you would be in the hotel but Alastor would be purely focused on you and no one can disturb you two; if it was a compromise for both of you, well, they can't tell. Any scenario, they know NOT to include any of you in their plans.

At first, they are sure as hell confused, but they also witnessed your confession (since it was done in the open). Neither you nor Alastor leaving proves a happy end. Then it was their confusion and shock as to why you picked Alastor and why Alastor was that enamoured with you. Both of you don't explain or humour them, so they just accept it. Now when they know you and Alastor are on a date, Charlie swoons and supports it, Vaggie rolls her eyes but happy that Alastor is more tamed, Niffty waves you two off, Angel teases a bit, Lucifer makes all sort of disgusted faces but wishes you well, and Husk just hope you have Alastor's attention so he's not bothered by his owner.

Now for Mimzy. Alastor will threaten her to mind her tone around you, but he didn't reveal his relationship with you. She was not as important to him now as before, so she didn't need to know about you. Say she goes to the hotel to pass the time, surprisingly there was no one after her this time. Then she sees you, alone. So she takes this chance to harass you for messing with Alastor's head. Alastor was her 'protector', the one to clean her messes because they were acquaintances in the living. Who were you to take that away from her?

Vaggie and Angel tried to get Mimzy to change targets. You and Alastor both said today was a day that the two of you won't be free to help around the hotel under any circumstances. Meaning? You two were going on a date. Distrubing any of you two was the same as a death sentence.

"Let her learn the hard way." Lucifer stopped Vaggie and Angel from their troubles. He heard Mimzy's words to you and he wasn't happy. He'd love to knock this b*tch down a peg or two, but Alastor should be even happier doing it and you'd be satisfied to see it yourself.

"All by your lonesome? Aww, did ol' Al get bored of you so soon?" Mimzy teased with a grin, her hand covering her lips poorly.

You raised a brow at her, your eyes narrowed. "Alastor?"

The colours on Mimzy's prideful face disappeared like it was sucked out of her when Alastor materialized next to you. Yup, the other residents of the hotel were familiar with such a sight; that's why they won't come near you on your dates. Alastor smiled, an arm over your shoulders while his eyes glared at his former friend, "Yes, My Beloved?"

"Beloved!?" Mimzy repeated in shock, her eyes twitched.

Now it was your turn to grin back at Mimzy, "I think I'd like to watch a show for today's date."

Alastor humoured you as he brought you close, his eyes focused solely on you, "What sort of show? I'll provide only the best."

"I'm in the mood for some screams of agony, particularly one that's high-pitched" You faked a thoughtful look.

"I have the perfect demon in mind." Alastor's smile grew to a grin, his eyes slowly directed over to Mimzy, who was cautiously backing up with each step. "My dear friend, I believe your services are required by my lovely romantic partner."

"Actually, I was just leaving." Mimzy chuckled. How was it that you two were an item? Alastor never gave her the time of day, even when he was alive. How did you catch Alastor's eye?! "So..."

Alastor's shadow tendrils appeared out of nowhere and wrapped out Mimzy, "Ah, ah, ah. You know me well. I'll do anything for the love of my life."

In the end, I'd say that Mimzy's reaction would be that of denial, shock, and disbelief. Her pride was hurt, she was with Alsator for so long and he never showed such tendencies. She didn't understand how she lost to you, in a twisted way. She was fine with Husk, because she knew Alastor held him on a leash, so she acts out as much as she wants. But in this case, you held something over her, you held the reason for her brazen actions and attitude, you won before there even was a competition. You didn't even know.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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frostedfaves · 10 months

Text

Control

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You lose your temper with Wanda after a mission and she decides to correct your behavior.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, arguing, brief blood mention, dom/sub dynamics (mommy kink havers unite), smut: fingering, oral, edging and overstimulation, also supporting women’s wrongs 😌

A/N: posting for the first time since October is kinda terrifying but I wanted to share this idea. if it flops I was never here

To say that you were pissed would be an understatement.

You were younger than the other members of the Avengers so you hadn’t been running missions as long, but you’d definitely been at them longer than Wanda, who was the current source of your anger. The others could practically feel the discontentment radiating from you and knew from experience not to pay any extra attention, but it seemed Wanda couldn’t keep your eyes off of you. Unfortunately for her, you quickly figured out how to keep your thoughts locked away, but it didn’t take a mind reader to know you weren’t in an approachable mood.

The door to the jet had barely touched the floor beneath it before you were walking out, declining any medical attention on the way to your room because it wasn’t your blood staining your suit and skin to begin with. Instead you stripped away the dirty clothing and hopped into the warm shower to wash away the physical reminders of what upset you in the first place.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind since you won’t allow me to find out for myself?”

Wanda was seated at the edge of your bed when you emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and you couldn’t say that you were surprised. This is how you usually found her when you had a movie night or an outing planned, having given each other permission to enter your designated spaces at any time. You considered not giving her a response despite her confirmation of knowing you were upset but your mouth had other plans.

“I didn’t realize I was allowed to speak for myself,” you responded in a tone seemingly calm to an outsider as you went over to the closet to find fresh loungewear. “Or is that only reserved for special occasions?”

“What does that–”

“You’re not my fucking mother, Wanda!’ you all but screamed at her as you tossed sweatpants on the bed beside her.

“So this is about the interrogation.”

“No, it’s about the tv show I watched last night,” you rolled your eyes sarcastically. “Of course it’s about that! You were way out of line and you could have cost me intel if I didn’t find that flash drive on his body. Unless I signal to you or directly tell you I need help, I don’t need help! I especially don’t need you running to my fucking rescue every time someone’s a little mean to me.”

“He wasn’t just ‘a little mean’. He was threatening you!” she argues and you let out a laugh void of humor.

“Wanda, what the fuck was he going to do to me tied up with a gun to his head? Please, enlighten me.”

“Don’t be condescending right now.”

“I wouldn’t have to be condescending if you weren’t such a trigger happy pussy during the mission!”

“You know what?” Wanda was in your face within two steps, hand closed tightly around your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact. “I may not be your mother but maybe I should start acting like one. You clearly need better direction.”

“Wanda–”

“Mommy,” she insists while squeezing just a bit tighter, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Mommy,” you repeat quietly and she grins.

“That’s my good girl.”

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like minutes before she pulls you in closer and goes in for a kiss. Despite your arms being frozen at your sides you melt into it, feeling almost a relief of tension that’d been building for quite some time if you were being completely honest. A shiver traveled down your spine as you felt her free hand carefully unwrapping your towel, and you heard it land in the chair nearby.

In a flurry of movement you were suddenly against the mattress, staring up at Wanda as she climbed over you. One of her hands held your wrists together above your head while the other wandered around your exposed skin. Her kisses left your lips and traveled down the side of your jaw, around your neck and down your hardened nipples, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as she pulled one into her mouth.

“Don’t have much to say now, do you?” she teased as she switched to the other nipple, chuckling as she licked and gently tugged at it, and all you could do is whimper again breathlessly. “I didn’t think so.”

Your wrists are freed from hers for only a brief moment before you feel a tingling sensation, realizing that she’d instead opted for her powers to hold them together as she travels further down your body. Your heart was beating fast with the anticipation of it all, but you couldn’t help attempting some sort of comeback in the moment.

“Don’t be so – oh my god.”

Your cockiness was short-lived as Wanda suddenly dove tongue first into your pussy, your back arching just a bit as she began circling around your clit. By the time she wrapped her lips around the bundle of nerves you’ve started bucking your hips, and she’s quick to grab onto your hips and hold you into place. To your surprise, she kept going without interruption until she made you cum, and you couldn’t help the noises that came when she continued tasting you, suddenly inserting two fingers as well.

“Please don’t stop, I’m gonna–”

“Look at me.”

You let out a loud whine in protest when she pulled her head up and slowed down the motion of her fingers drastically.

“I want you to repeat after me or that last orgasm is the only one you’ll ever get out of me. Nod if you understand,” she commanded and you nod. “Good girl. Tell me that you are going to listen when Mommy tells you to do something because she knows best for you.”

“M-mommy,” you stuttered out a moan when her fingers plunged deeper for a moment.

“Say it or I’ll stop.”

“I-I’m going to listen when Mommy tells me to do something because she knows what’s best for me.”

“I’m going to tell Mommy when something upsets me instead of acting like a brat,” Wanda continued, brushing your clit with her thumb for a moment and grinning when you stuttered through your repetition. “Now remind me who you belong to again, love?”

She inserted a third finger and quickened her pace suddenly, and you almost forget your instructions until she delivered a quick slap to your hardened nipple.

“I’m yours, Mommy. All yours,” you assure her breathlessly, feeling relief when she praised you again and begging her not to stop.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

She caressed the stinging nipple with her thumb as she dove back in with her tongue, teasing your clit again until she couldn’t hold back and started fully sucking on it again. She took pleasure in the sounds you made, so much so that she kept making you cum over and over until you finally started protesting and trying to escape her hand and mouth despite how good it all felt. Even then she made sure to get one more orgasm out of you, slowly pulling away with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Open up, my gorgeous girl.”

The fingers that were inside you passed your lips and you cleaned them for her hungrily, feeling something stir inside you again when you saw her lick her lips. Wanda noticed you watching and slowly removed her fingers, replacing them with her own lips and tongue.

“Such a good girl for me,” Wanda praised while climbing backwards off the bed, and you watched her slowly remove her own loungewear, your eyes heavily focused on her own hardened nipples and she chuckled when she noticed.

“Maybe you could taste two things for me tonight.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #avengers x reader #frosty's smut

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avoxrising · 5 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 21

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I had such a shitty day but I’m lowkey in love with this part of the series so I decided to post. Also I did some editing so the sewers are now in chapter 24 instead of 23. Let the fun begin!

Content Warnings - descriptions of wounds

Finnick and you try to make the best of your last few days together before he has to leave for deployment. You continue to skip your schedule, with the news of Finnick’s impending absence leaving you mentally unstable enough for Dr. Aurelius to give you a pass.

You follow him around like a lost puppy, constantly grasping at his fingers as a reminder that he’s still here. That’s the only touch you will allow, however. Your progress has regressed a bit and the nightmares have returned. You can’t even sleep in the same bed as Finnick, worried that you might hurt him.

The only night this changes is the night before he’s shipped out to the capital.

“You can’t go,” you whine as you grasp onto him, worried he might disappear at any moment.

“We’ve been over this,” he sighs, rolling over in the bed to face you.

“I know but it sucks and I hate it,” you explain.

“Can I hold you tonight?” he asks, suddenly turning the mood even more sad than it already was.

You sigh as you lean in closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

“Thank you for loving me,” you tell him, moving your head slightly to look back at him.

“Thank you for letting me.”

Finnick doesn’t let you go to the hangar to see him off as he doesn’t want to say goodbye. You understand where he’s coming from but watching him get out of bed at 6am and leave your cabin nearly broke you.

Dr. Aurelius decided you would stay in the hospital again while Finnick was away. He didn’t think that you living alone was healthy and you agreed. As much as you hated the hospital at least you had Johanna there. She had a bad episode when she encountered water during her training and had to be sent back to the hospital.

You spend your days sitting with Johanna, neither of you having much to say. Mags comes to see you during her reflection time but again you sit in silence. Nobody was worth talking to as long as he was gone.

You stopped seeing Dr. Aurelius after he tried to explain that your dependency on Finnick was not healthy. He may be right but you don’t care. You need Finnick.

“Miss Y/L/N,” President Coin states as she steps into your room. You were not expecting her as a visitor. It had been only a few days since Finnick left. “You and Mr. Mellark have been called upon for a noble mission.”

You look at her confused. What were you and Peeta going to do? Coin sets down a pile of clothes on the edge of your bed.

“Suit up soldier,” she states. Maybe you would be seeing Finnick sooner than you thought.

You and Peeta are loaded into a hovercraft to an unknown location. Well, the people flying the hovercraft know where you are going, but you and Peeta haven’t been told anything.

It’s a long few hours before you finally land in District 2.

“My name is Peeta Melark,” Peeta whispers to himself as he exits the hovercraft.

You struggle to stand up, a headache having accumulated during the flight. A soldier goes to help you but you swat his hand away, not wanting to be touched.

“What are we doing here?” Peeta mumbles as you fight to stay standing, the pulsing headache not helping.

“In the vehicles,” a soldier orders, motioning for you and Peeta to get into two separate armored trucks. Why are they separating you two?

The ride in the truck is long. You fade in and out of a fitful sleep, unable to rid yourself of a repeating nightmare you’ve had since leaving the capital.

In it, Wiress is sitting on the beach in the arena, staring out into the water with her dead eyes and slit throat, repeatedly muttering “tick tock” to herself. It always happens the same way. Her muttering gets louder until she suddenly goes silent and turns to face you.

You watch in horror as her ashy skin begins to flake off, revealing nothing but bones underneath. Black blood flows from her throat.

“Tick tock,” she screams at you.

“You can’t outrun the clock!”

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @lvsticm @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @vsnrly @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @isasalom @yizhoutv @livingdead-reilly @imaegonstargaryenswife0

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #finnick #mockingjay #the feral one

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atinyniki · 5 months

Text

nap of a star.

group: tomorrow x together !

pairing: idol bf!choi beomgyu x f!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationsips, petnames, crying, insecurities (beomgyu), txt is unknowingly hurting beomgyu, beomgyu teases members, just rlly sad :(

authors note: screaming and crying over this. i thought this would be the perfect title for this little fic. posting to see this if my work is unshadowbanned, and if so ill post my new jisung fic !! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1394

“name one thing you like most about yeonjun”

the order goes by age, soobin answering first.

“i really love… hm… his butt”

the four of them burst into laughter, disbelief evident on their faces. “his butt?”, taehyun asks incredulously.

“yes! it’s so cute”

“ok. ew. weirdo. next?”, yeonjun moves on quickly from his comment.

beomgyu just giggles, not saying a word. yeonjun rolls his eyes. “nothing? really?”, he smiles.

beomgyu shakes his head no, a smile still on his face. all of them laugh, yells erupting throughout the entire room.

“nothing.”, beomgyu repeats, a matter-of-factly.

“yeah yeah…”, yeonjun knows beomgyu loves him, so there’s no need to push it.

the game goes on, continuing with soobin, and then comes beomgyus turn.

he sits down on the stool, waiting first for yeonjun. yeonjun just giggles, parroting beomgyus actions from earlier. it was no surprise to him, so he just jokes around with yeonjun.

soobins turn comes next. no answer. just more giggling. beomgyu knew that yeonjun wouldn’t answer, that’s just how they are. they love teasing eachother, but soobin?

beomgyu laughs it off, waiting again for more. no one said anything. they joke around for a long time, instead talking about things they don’t like about him.

they sure can name a lot…

beomgyu just sits back down in his chair, mood deflated and drained of all cheeriness he’s had before. nonetheless, he tries to keep a smile for the camera.

the game continues on again, beomgyus voice has gotten duller, but no one seemed to notice. the shoot ends, and they all finally let loose and begin to laugh about it.

“my butt?! soobin what were you thinking?!”

he giggles, “i was thinking about your butt!”

“oh my gosh. shut up.”, yeonjun fake gags.

they all giggle together. all but beomgyu. they still don’t notice.

they go out to eat after, beomgyu continuously stuffing his face so he doesn’t have to speak. he just wants to go home. you, he wants to go to you.

his home.

“baby? i’m home…”, he calls out softly.

no answer.

he closes the door behind him, kicking off his shoes lazily and walking towards the kitchen. he sees you there, making yourself another bag of popcorn.

you turn around, gasping dramatically when you see him. “beomgyu!”

you rush into his arms, a smile erupting on both your faces immediately. “how was your day sweetheart?”

“oh you know… the usual. lots of filming, though”

“yeah i bet, you were there for a while.”

you dump the popcorn into the bowl, taking beomgyu to the bed to watch the remaining half hour of the movie with you.

“what movie is this?”

“uh… home alone? duh. how could you not recognize it? this is one of your favorites…”

you watch as he leans towards the screen again, when it clicks. “oh… yeah. must just be tired.”

you two finish the popcorn together, finishing the movie not too long after. after such a long day, it feels amazing to be in your arms.

he just couldn’t get what they said out of his mind. or… what they didn’t say.

you set the laptop onto the dresser, along with the bowl full of kernels. “hi dorky”

“oh… hey pretty”

you turn to him, smiling and pecking his nose. “you tired?”

“just thinking.”

he looks back up at you, smiling and wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

“yeah? what’s on your mind?”

the question sits on the tip of his tongue. you’ll be able to answer right?

you love him… right?

“what’s something you love about me?”

so many things came to mind. he’s so caring, so funny, and so incredibly perfect. he makes you and everyone else around him feel so loved and appreciated, even people he isn’t close with. he’s so snarky but it’s in the best way possible, and you just can’t truly express how much you love him in words.

small sniffles pull you out of your thoughts. it’s only felt like seconds, but it’s been an entire minute since he’s asked the question. he buries his head in your chest to muffle the sounds, and you immediately wrap your arms around him. it makes him feel safe.

he looks back up at you again, small sobs escaping his lips as he stares at you with bloodshot eyes. it seems as if your entire world has shattered just at the sight of him.

“please… can’t you- can’t you think of something? just one thing? you love me… right?”, he begs desperately.

you immediately shut down his thoughts.

“what? no… no sweetheart no! i love you, my star. i promise. don’t ever doubt it for a second. its just… so many things came to mind, i didn’t know which one to say first.”

a sigh of relief leaves his lips again, and he sobs even harder, clutching onto your shirt and drenching it with his tears. “i’m so sorry… i didn’t mean to rush…”, your own eyes tearing up at his words.

“i love you, beomgyu. everything about you. i love how your heart is so incredibly big, and how you seem to make me smile with everything that you do. you’re perfect beomgyu.”

the sincerity in your voice makes him wail, breaths broken up by hiccups and more cries. “th-thank you.”

you hug him closer towards you, but you don’t ask about anything. talking would be too much for him to handle right now. he just needed you.

“you’re so incredibly funny, gyu. i love that about you. you care about everyone, even if you’re not necessarily close. i love that too. i love everything about you. the love i feel for you is just simply… unfathomable.”

his heart swells in his chest, head tilting up to give you a small kiss. “i’m sorry. i didnt mean to break down on you like that.”

you kiss his forehead, pulling him close again so that the two of you are face-to-face. “no need to apologize, i’m always here for you, my star. was there… something that triggered that?”

he frowns, eyes still pouring out tears steadily. he explains the entire thing, how filming went, what they said, and you cant help but feel for him.

you run your fingers along his spine, “oh baby… why didn’t you tell me?”

“i didn’t wanna worry you. it’s kinda.. dumb… anyways”

“it’s not dumb, it hurt you.”

“it’s okay… i’ll get over it… i know i will. it’s just… sometimes i can’t help but think they mean it.”

you smile, hugging him close into your chest and kissing the top of his head repeatedly. curse his brain for making him think like this.

“they love you beomgyu. don’t worry.”

he laces your fingers together under the sheets, kissing your collarbone and parts of your neck and jawline. no one could ever make you feel more loved.

you giggle, “that tickles…”

“i know.”, he smiles mischievously. instantly, more kisses are planted onto your neck and the parts of your chest he can reach, playfully nibbling and licking over your skin.

you look back down at him, love and adoration swimming through your eyes. you hold eye contact for a long time, as if your true feelings were passing through just by a look in that moment.

the love you feel for eachother is unexplainable, it’s a true miracle that you are such a perfect match. you lean down to kiss him again, watching as he chases your lips when you pull away.

“i love you, y/n.”

you kiss his forehead again, and you open your mouth to speak. you stop once you look at his face again.

his lips are slightly parted from your kiss earlier, hands loosely placed onto your waist and chest. its becoming difficult to resist the urge to smother him in kisses, but he deserves his sleep.

you bring your hand up, the one that’s still holding beomgyus, and kiss over his knuckles. you run a finger over his cheekbone, admiring his adorable sleepy pout. you could definitely get used to this.

if you aren’t spending the rest of your life with this man, you don’t want to spend it with anyone at all.

smiling, a tear leaves your eye at the sight of your boyfriend. you’re so lucky to have him, you just can’t believe it. do tears of adoration even exist?

“i love you too, my star.”

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt angst #txt fluff #beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #atinyniki

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seelestia · 1 year

Text

— 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑!

SUMMARY. it isn't easy being a heart catcher, much less when the hearts you caught belonged to the yashiro commissioner and his retainer. [VAPORIZE]

CHARACTERS. kamisato ayato, thoma + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff, crack-ish, love triangle.

CW. reader is an inazuman noble and is referred to with "mx", not a poly relationship (they have friendly catfights over you), reader just stays unbothered throughout the whole thing.

THOUGHTS. my entry for the elemental supercharge collab by @zhongrin! this turned out so diff from my first draft, but i still hope i did this justice. good luck being sandwiched between these two (you'll need it for your sanity)! <3

✰ masterlist.

As the heir of a respected clan in Inazuma, you were always expected to master many types of talents such as performing a tea ceremony, negotiation, wielding a blade, and more. Catching hearts, however, was never on your list — and not to mention, two of them at the same time.

[ HYDRO | Pillar of Fortitude ]

KAMISATO AYATO is never shy to admit that he finds beauty in your resilience from the start... Or at least, resilience in rejecting his advances, that is.

You're always so professional, always so firm in keeping your composure — but to him, that just adds to your appeal as if you're a locked treasure chest and Ayato is having the time of his life trying to find the right key to you. Needless to say, he seeks enjoyment from trying to crack that mask of yours.

The sweet tone in his voice that has the intent to charm, the glint in his eyes when he looks at you. Just the way he acts when you're around already speaks enough of his fondness for you. It isn't hard to notice; if the Commissioner's mood seems awfully good, that must mean your name is somewhere on the list of visitors that day.

Not to mention, the touches that linger longer than necessary and the excuses that roll off his tongue like second nature just so he can stay close to you. All of these quirks of his just further incite the urge inside you to give him a good knock on the head... if it weren't for the fact that you have a reputation to keep up.

Oh, goodness, there he goes again with that look in his eyes. Have your previous words fallen on deaf ears, you wonder? You place your teacup down with a heavy sigh, "...Lord Kamisato, you are staring."

Ayato smiles, faux innocence shining from his face so naturally like sunlight. He hides his fit of chuckles behind his hand, "Pardon me. It seems I was lost in your eyes again, can you repeat what you were saying just now?"

The frown on your face is clear. A clear as its purpose to become an armor so it can distract the insufferable male from noticing the way you faltered a little and you emphasize, a little, at his words. You huff defeatedly, "Fine, I shall start again."

(...Really, how does he say all that with such a straight face?)

But Ayato knows. He can see how you're itching to chuck an object at him and how badly you want to roll your eyes at his sweetened compliments. Well, he wouldn't go as far as to call himself a true sadist — but maybe, that sight of annoyance on your face only makes him fall for you even harder. Who would've thought the Yashiro Commissioner is someone who enjoys being loathed as his love language? (Does this mean he is also a masochist, then? Albeit, an odd one.)

Seriously, what are you going to do with him? Seeing as you're the current heir to a bloodline that has worked with the Kamisato Clan for generations, it seems there is no avoiding him. The only thing you can do is to curse fate for letting you be born in the same timeline as this brat of a man, probably.

But Ayato certainly stays true to what the gods have gifted him, for he is as suffocating as the properties of his Hydro Vision. Curse him and his pretty face. (...So, you do think he is pleasant on the eyes, after all?)

[ PYRO | Protector From Afar ]

On the other hand, THOMA is almost untrue to the Vision he holds for he is anything but the feeling of a scorching blaze. But he is so passionate, so intent on helping others that you'd understand why he was chosen by such a fiery element — and strangely, his flames are the kind that you wouldn't mind throwing yourself at and you're sure many people agree.

The retainer of the Kamisato Clan is so welcoming, so comforting to the point that just the mere sight of his face is able to lift up your spirits. Like a pat on the shoulder or an unspoken whisper that everything will be alright, whether that be because of his 'fixing' skills or just that bright smile on his lips.

The amount of adoration he has for you is not a well-hidden secret either. Why else would he fumble and fret so much every time you come by? Some may say that it's common sense since you are an important guest, thus it is natural that he wants to treat you well. But that is what others would say and Thoma can speak for himself — and as such, he can say with certainty that he likes you. Or why else would his heart flutter so much when you're around?

Even amidst any sort of rush, he'd still drop anything and everything for you.

In fact, he is very willing to; a fact that he learnt when one day, you came to visit and he wasn't there to greet you per usual. It is only when he was trudging up the steps to the Kamisato Estate after some business in Ritou that he was informed of your presence. And goodness, Thoma has never run so fast before in all his life!

"Mx. [Y/N], when did you get here? Did you wait long? Has anyone prepared tea for you yet? I'm so sorry, I just got back from an errand. Hold on, let me—"

"Relax," you chuckle, shaking your head politely at the genuine panic in his voice. "I arrived merely some moments ago. And no, I told the staff I'd wait for you so you'll be the one to make the tea like always," you state calmly.

You say that so casually... but why does Thoma feel like his heart just skipped a beat and is struggling to catch up? Maybe, his heart is overreacting.

"Oh, y-you did?" He stutters upon hearing your words, as if his breath has been knocked out of his lungs and all he can think about is you. Both of them are true.

"Yes, I did," you affirm with a smile.

Yep, his heart is definitely overreacting and definitely not racing a mile faster.

Gosh, where should he start? He likes how composed you are, how you try to quieten your laughter when all he wants is to hear it clearer, how you smile at him and make him feel so appreciated when he does something for you. Oh, how he really, really likes you; something he has told Taroumaru many times before whenever it is quiet and empty inside Komore Teahouse.

Thoma knows his place as a servant where his status is way lower than you are but still, it doesn't lessen these feelings in his chest... Maybe, he is more than qualified to be called the exact definition of lovesick.

[ VAPORIZE | And thus, chaos ensues. ]

When water meets fire or vice versa, it will result in a mist of vapor; either an engulfing one or a haze that brushes against your skin softly. That is what you know according to the laws of nature, so what in the name of the Shogun is this clashing aura lingering in the air?

You've already grown quite immune to AYATO's teasing and eccentric remarks, so much so that it should be considered a skill of yours now. But for some reason, there are times where he seems more spirited to do his worst than usual and if you connect the dots, the sole factor for this occurrence leads to... THOMA?

It isn't unusual for a commissioner and their retainer to be in one room, but being in the same room as them brings about a whole new meaning. Everything just turns into a domino effect; when you talk, another responds, then the other disagrees. These are the moments when you remember that both Ayato and Thoma don't necessarily see eye to eye at times and thus, here you are, caught in the middle.

"My Lord, I don't think that is a good idea," comes the hesitant plea of a certain blond. The one who sits across from him raises an eyebrow, resting a hand on his chin and sporting a dignified tone.

"I didn't know you had such an interest in politics," the commissioner regards the former with a hum. "Or is it our guest that you're interested in?" Ayato continues, a wide smile too far-fetched to be called harmless chipped onto his lips.

"W-what?! No, no, I just think that we can choose another way to make things easier for Mx. [Y/N] than that one. Doing that would put too much on their plate," Thoma stammers out his reason like a deer caught in the headlights but rather solidifying his defence as intended, he only looks a tad more sillier than before.

How thoughtful of these two to care so much to the point of bickering — but you're very much an independent person who is more than capable of making their own decisions, respectfully.

But these two have been at it for a while now, you muse to yourself as you sip your tea quietly. Should you interrupt or should you enjoy this stand-up comedy show a little bit longer?

"I was already thinking of buying them gifts as my compensation, but you're acting as if I am heartlessly subjecting them to this. I thought you would know me better. I'm quite offended, Thoma."

"My Lord, please—"

Okay, you're going to sip this tea and watch just a little bit longer.

Naturally, you remain on the neutral side like the fence in between two quarreling neighbors. Their squabbles can be very amusing at times, irritating the next, or even both simultaneously. Sometimes, you don't even know the end of it — but what you do know is that neither of them back down easily.

However, there is something you'd like to point out. In most cases involving an employer and employee, the latter would have had no say in any matters that belonged to their master... But as you watch the banter between Ayato and Thoma, this doesn't seem to be the case in the Kamisato Estate and somehow, it warms your heart.

To know that Thoma feels comfortable enough around his employers to be able to express his opinions, to know that both Ayato and Ayaka are the ones who enabled Thoma to feel as such because they don't see him as just a servant. In Inazuma where the value of traditions and honor is important as eternity that the Raiden Shogun chased, it is the type of bond you've never seen before, the type of bond that makes you smile.

Everyone in the Kamisato Estate is so full of surprises, aren't they? ...Though, it might be better if you start discussing business with Ayaka instead of these two from now on. Just to save everyone (and yourself) in this property from their incessant disputes over you.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

#zhongrin.elementalsupercharge #genshin x reader #genshin x you #ayato x reader #ayato x you #thoma x reader #thoma x you #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin drabbles #seelestial.inks

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thewolfisawake · 6 months

Text

It was late yet it wasn't as though this affliction would rest. Norval brought the reports he received although he had expected that he'd be setting them on the king's desk for him to read in the morning. So imagine his surprise to be let through and directed towards the conservatory. Inside he could find Balmoral at a long table that was absolutely covered.

Maps, arrays of full and empty conduit crystals, schedules and guard rotations, and a smattering of reports and grievances. Off to the side was a decanter that was half empty. The king long since gave up on any form of decorum seeing as his circlet was discarded by the decanter with his hair loosened and sleeves rolled up. And he seemed to be on a break as he sipped his drink while observing the sky.

"Haw, you bring mair reports?" Balmoral asked, without looking over to the other. Norval strode to the table, "Yep, yep, though all this gathering, I haven't really reviewed anything."

"If it's anything like what ah been receiving, it's proceeding smoothly," the king informed, slipping his eyepatch from the table and affixing it again before he faced his general. He reached out for the reports, "The numbers appear tae be stable...at least better than initial collection. Steady reports from you and Risteard tell thon people are listening and proceeding with caution. Whether or concern or tae cover their hides, ah have yet tae see. But ya gambit was a success, Valan. Well done."

"I'm happy to hear your praises, Your Majesty," Norval said with a little bow, "...but you aren't pleased that it has gone through, are you?"

"Ah cannae change what has been done. What, you gaun haud it over my heid fir a while?" he joked before he was drinking again, starting to check out the new intel. The trend was comforting news, certainly. However the king felt no comfort. Not when he knew it meant more being transported off the Demilune Spring. Not when it meant the chances of being corrupted grew each day.

"...Actually, I wanted to talk to you about it."

An eye watched him, the color lazily swirling about in silent anticipation towards the Herald. Norval watched the king as well. Unlike most of the generals, he held little in the way of standing against the might of their sovereign. Although he knew there was little chance Balmoral was going to do something rash. After all, it was something of a one off and it did help that he was likely drunk.

"I do not regret the plan I put forward. And it is understandable how you reacted to it. And while, it worked out because it was us, your generals, your selected confidants, I wanted to put forward that you also unveiled a dangerous precedent."

"A dangerous precedent?" Balmoral repeated, asking for elaboration.

Norval continued, "Bal, in any other situation you would maintain a focus on the kingdom's interest. Ironically the place you sent others to being proof of your calculated mindset. However, when it comes to Mhoiran, that all goes out the window. And I like him as much as the next guy but it begs the question as to why. It's understandable why he is the way he is with you as you maintain a similar hold on all those you chose within your fold. But less clear is why he has that hold with you. Could it be...you are actually much closer...?"

With that, all the seriousness in the air deflated. The contrast actually had Balmoral laughing. It was a bit of relief from the dread that had been filling him for days, "'Course ya use work tae slip in the real questions, sleekit of you. Ah ken Bheinnan fir much longer than most of the lot of you. So in that sense, aye, we're much closer."

There was a softness in his eye as he said this. His gaze in the glass as if it could divine some unknown intent.

"So like, are you--"

"You had a point tae this, Norval?" Balmoral questioned, his terrible mood rolling back in, "Mhoirbheinn isnae here tae defend himself so ah like tae nae dwell on it longer than necessary."

"...I simply want to understand, Bal. As your Herald, I weave word in your favor. That gets more difficult when I don't get the motives. I'm not asking to know why...all that happened. Just why you took up as much as you did, why him? To help in any future endeavors and to help you maintain your image should it come up again."

It seemed he really did make a fool of himself at that meeting. Enough so his generals have either scolded him or plotted without him. To any other tyrant, it might have cost them their lives. But to Balmoral, it was comedic in a way, being reminded of what his aim was. And how it was no longer attaining but maintaining it. Power was no longer the issue but rather the image...and while Balmoral did think he could manage himself...well, at least he was smart enough to find others before he got cocky.

Why him?

"Why not him?" Balmoral echoed, "Ah doubt Bheinnan ken but he did me a kindness so long ago. Wan ah hardly exaggerate when ah say, it changed my life. And as you ken, ah pay back kindnesses. Though it feels no matter how much ah try tae pay it back, ah only end up further and further indebted tae him. What started as a simple 'you did something fir me, let me do something fir you' ended up...anything but simple. How do you pay back giving hope dare even excitement fir your goals? What is fair fir standing there...when there was nae wan before? What dae ah give fir lessons invaluable tae you? Tae wa--"

Thinking of his beloved brought such a tenderness to him. A tenderness the fae only learned because of him. So much of it all was because of him. But it also brought back the heartache Balmoral had been avoiding. So that his love didn't see through their bond. How sorely he was missed and the forlorn wistfulness that threatened to consume him.

"Och, ah had tae much, it's loosened this tongue far tae much," Balmoral stopped himself, "You'll hae tae accept the ramblings of a fu' fool tae glean from."

"That is fine I think I understand one thing," Norval said with a nod, an eager listener, "Mhoiran is His Majesty's greatest source of strength. Which is amazing, don't get me wrong. But also puts forward something else...."

Though he was talking Balmoral had already started resuming his work, wanting a distraction again. However there came a phrasing that sounds almost like it was whispered in his ear.

"...Your greatest strength also is your one weakness."

That brought his attention back to the Herald, who was grinning as always, "But with Mhoiran so strong as is it's not really anything you'd have to worry about. I'm sorry to have taken up your time, Bal, just needed a distraction from the mountain load we got. And hearing about you and Mhoiran is pretty nice to hear."

"So you use me fir your distraction. Cheeky, Norval."

"Don't say it like that! I just--mm, you know there's no way of making this sound better so I'm gonna stop while I'm ahead."

"Wise choice. Now off with you, we hae business tae finish," with that the Herald was off. Balmoral swirled around the glass he held. He seemed to consider it before placing it down on the table. It seemed the reports would have to do.

#writings #{Balmoral Drabbles #this has been in my drafts forever #but this is during the Corruption #and Bal is just choosing to work #instead of think about feelings #until he has to

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bondew · 4 months

Text

‘Don’t Cry Over Split Milk’

Chapter one.

I am aware as I step into form that this year will be a repeat of grade ten just more pressure, harder work and more drama. So basically just double the stress.

“Why the long face Ms Shaw?” My form teacher Mr Ajayi says as I walk to check my name off on the roll. He was my year ten art teacher so knows that I am not one for a casual conversation or any conversation with an authority figure, luckily he doesn’t really count as an authority figure. This is because he is one of the most relatable and kindest people ever.

“Chelsea’s gone.” I groan as he ticks my name.

“Ahh, I’m gonna’ miss her, she was one of the best artists!” He laughs, trying to brighten my mood.

My bestfriend since grade three moved to the academy somewhere around here so school is pretty shitty. She’ll be fine though, I don’t know about me so much. I have enough friends to survive here, Phoebe, Tori, Tina, Bridey and lots more but it’s just not the same. My other friend Aled goes to a different school, Truham, it’s an all boys school so yeah, but I might move next year since we are allowed to in sixth form.

I drag my new backpack across the floor and find a seat pressed against the window. As the sun gleams on my face I rest my head, just waiting for the ear piercing bell. It suddenly rings and I slowly make my way to the door, this is where I am greeted with Tori Spring. Tori is an odd girl, not very talkative but is also kind and very protective. For once she isn’t standing waiting with Becky, I don’t like Becky that much but I put up with her for Tori’s sake. We make our way to maths where I suddenly become extremely chatty, I mean we can’t just walk in silence. Becky then appears and starts gasping for air waving around a late slip.

“Sorry guys! I was with Ben and lost track of time!”

I roll my eyes discreetly and then just smile, goddammit I really thought she would be away today.

All the chatter is centred around a party this evening and Becky instantly suggests we go, apparently it’s for the new school year but i think people just find any excuse to throw a party these days. Tori and I stare at eachother for a moment. We are both antisocial fucks. Becky’s purple hair is flowing around as she tries to convince us, thats when phoebe appears. I met phoebe in year 7, I was very quiet and the teacher forced us to talk and for some reason we clicked! She is quite tall with straight brown hair. Not even going to lie, she is very pretty. Like pretty that compared to her I look like a stressed, tired, mole rat, sure I always do but she intensifies it. I mutter some excuse so phoebe and I can stand away from Becky and I just start ranting, Phoebe is the only person I can do this with (besides my other friend Tina) so she kinda has to let me. It’s fine because as a bestfriend should, she hates her too.

#heartstopper #aled last #tori spring #writing #young writer #first post #mental health #Spotify

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lookbluesoup · 1 year

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It Comes and Goes (In Waves)

Characters: Arya Gastaurknan & I'lryha, mentions X'rhun Tia Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, PTSD, Panic Attack, Broken bone, Slavery mention Summary: After an attack on a pirate-slaver goes awry, Lyrha is faced with a potentially permanent injury and fears she may never be worthy of the Red. But Arya isn't about to abandon her fellow apprentice to despair. Also on Ao3!

A vague greyness had settled over Lyrha’s mood in the days that followed her ill-concieved solitary assault on the pirate king Baagvai’s crew. And it was ill-concieved, she could see, now that scarlet rage didn’t blind her to all except the promise of vengeance.

She’d rushed headlong into danger, into the very nest of her foe where his strength was greatest and his allies close at hand. Alone.

Baagvai had smiled his crooked smile and called her ‘Kitten’ and in that instant she’d no longer been I’lyrha of Vermillion Wind, but I’lyrha the slave child. I’lyrha the slaver queen. Full of rage and vacant of the discipline X’rhun had laboured so hard to instill in her. No match for the monster who still haunted her hopes and dreams.

Lyrha’s dull green eyes drifted down to her wrist, bandaged and splinted. The healers had done their best, but even with magic it remained to be seen whether the bones would set right. She might never hold a sword again.

Baagvai had, with very little strain, jeopardized Lyrha’s entire future. She’d be locked in one of his slave cells now if not for X’rhun and Arya… and when they’d stormed the ship to aid Lyrha, they’d nearly been taken into thrall, too.

She shut her eyes. Felt another tremor wrack through her, and wished those would stop. Her bed was comfortable. Sunlight and birdsong came through the windows. The blankets were warm. There was no danger here. And still… she trembled.

It was a few minutes more when the sound of footsteps and a knock on the door twisted her ear.

“It’s me.” Came a refined, feminine voice.

Lyrha considered not answering, but, slowly, flopped her head back down on the pillow and replied in a coarser, less fanciful brogue, “Hey, Little Sister.”

The hinges creaked faintly, and Arya’s pale, soft features peeked through. Her blonde hair was tied back, and her blue eyes creased over a smile without a hint of resentment. “Would you like some company?”

After a few heartbeats, Lyrha flicked the tip of her tail in assent.

Arya stepped in quietly, smile faltering a little at Lyrha’s inanimation. “...Have you seen X’rhun today?” The younger girl asked pleasantly, hands tugging at the red hems of her short skirt.

“Not since night before last.” Not since he’d made his feelings about Lyrha’s half-cocked assault abundantly clear, and then marched off in a crimson storm.

“…Oh.” Arya’s heartbeat sped up a little, easy for a miqo’te to discern.

Lyrha’s ears flattened at the sound, but she still didn’t bother looking directly at her companion.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Arya hummed a little, “Well, he knows you’re in good care, and wants you to rest.”

“So you’ve seen him, eh?

Arya hesitated long enough that it was an answer in and of itself.

“…He’s still angry with me.” Lyrha lamented blandly.

Brows pinching with worry, Arya frowned, “I — I don’t think he’s angry. He… he seemed…”

“Angry.” Lyrha repeated.

Arya shook her head, mouth opening for a moment with no words. Then, “You know how – intense he can be. He was scared for you. We just need to give him some time.”

Another wave of trembling rolled through Lyrha, and she grit her teeth, willing it to fade. It was a plea that went unanswered.

“I’lyrha? Are you – is it your injuries?” Arya asked, a nervous hand to her lips.

Lyrha hissed and shook her head. “It’s just cold in ‘ere.”

It wasn’t.

“You might have a fever –” Arya shifted, reaching for her companion’s brow.

Lyrha swatted it away, “Little Sister, you shouldn’t have come. You should be angry, too.” Anger would make sense, after Lyrha had so recklessly put them all at risk.

A brief, too perceptive pause. Arya folded her arms. “Well I’m not. Nor do I think it’s doing you any good to sit around, moping.”

Ears pinned, Lyrha stared pointedly at her splinted arm. “I’m not moping. I’m resting.”

“That pirate broke your arm, your legs still work just fine. If X’rhun was here–”

“Well he’s not.” Lyrha snapped, meaner than she’d intended. She turned harshly on the bed to face away from Arya.

A pause. Lyrha’s tail flickered back and forth with blatant agitation. The corners of her eyes burned. He wasn’t here, and it was her fault.

All for nothing, too. Baagvai still walked free - only now he had a reason to hunt her.

Lyrha was crippled. It would take weeks to know if the damage would be permanent.

And X’rhun may have finally had enough of her unruly temperament.

She shut her eyes tight.

“If I’d just kept my head–” She confessed, only to stagger off, brow furrowed with hostile grief. “I got too angry. I’m always too fuckin’ angry, and X’rhun knows it. He’s right. It’s not worthy of the Red.”

Arya gaped. Lyrha couldn’t see it, curled into herself with her back turned, but she’d heard that little inhale plenty of times before.

And then something happened that she did not expect.

The weight on the bed shifted. Arya’s hand brushed over Lyrha’s waist. Suddenly she was being pulled into a tight hug from behind.

Fur fluffing out, Lyrha felt a growl bubble in her throat.

Arya didn’t retreat. Just pressed her forehead to the space between Lyrha’s shoulders, and held her there in a firm embrace. “Don’t say such cruel things.” The girl’s voice cracked.

“It ain’t cruel if it’s the truth.” Lyrha answered, teeth bared under slitted eyes. Agitation stung.

“It isn’t true.” Arya asserted. “You belong here, just as much as X’rhun. One defeat doesn’t change that, does it?”

Little Sister wasn’t soft, but there was a lot about the world she didn’t know. Some things you just couldn’t explain to a person. Certain realities had to be experienced to be understood. So Lyrha held her tongue and kept the horrors locked away inside.

For a while, the room remained draped in dreary quiet, except for the thrumming of their hearts.

But Arya kept ahold of her, until the tension in Lyrha’s shoulders eased somewhat.

After another moment, Little Sister reached through the silence. “Killing that pirate… it’ll help protect people. Other girls like you and me.” She said quietly, “But it won’t change what’s already happened. I — I think that’s what X’rhun was trying to tell you, before. If all you can see is what’s behind, you’ve taken your eyes off the foe in front of you.”

“…I know.” Lyrha answered limply, though Rhun’s words had been far less kind, and the sharp set to his shoulders when he turned away from her had become a wound all its own to endure.

The mush of Arya’s nose against Lyrha’s back followed. “He told us. Red Mages defend the defenseless, with Heart and Steel. You didn’t break your oath, I’lryha. Even – even if the person you were trying to save was yourself, the child you once were. She deserved protection. And you still do, now.”

A sudden, bright flare of sick curdled her gut, and Lyrha shut her eyes. Fought herself. Tears fell again. A sniffle gave her away.

Arya tugged closer.

Sobs followed, the kind that shook Lyrha all over. She didn’t have the fortitude to stopper it. Chest-wrenching, stomach churning, violent pain left her dizzy with grief.

She wept for the child she had been and the woman she became. Right now, they were one and the same.

For everything she’d lost and everything she’d taken. Debts that couldn’t be repaid.

For her foolishness, for her hopes. Parts of her she couldn’t expunge.

For the gentle touch of Little Sister, who chose love over hate so intuitively, in a way Lyrha didn’t know how to mimic, least of all toward her own self. Least of all now.

Arya held her through all of that, too.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #arya gastaurknan #fanfic #my fanfic #lyrha #red mage #hurt/comfort

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ducknotinarow · 11 months

Note

03 Rasey 🍷💖

| Send a "🍷💖" and My Muse will drunkenly flirt with Your Muse

Mikey went to grab for the next can on his side of the table heavily debating and weighing his options here as his gaze shifted between the can and to Raphael, sitting across the wide wide smiling plaster over his face. Raphael pretty much had felt like he one the second the two of them sat down to play this so called ‘game’ Mikey should have know he wouldn’t been able to out drink Raphael himself but sometimes he can’t help but fall into that competitive mind set still chasing the high from when he beat Raph in the Battle Nexus after all this time he may been just a tad over confident. Raphael smirks suddenly watching Mikey’s hand drop to the table physically tapping out of the game.

“Ha!’hat the beat Mikey be easier ‘hat way!” Raph exclaims suddenly moving to stand up as he gabs for his last can on his line up, holding it to his beak as he gulp the contents down as if it were like breathing in air.

Crushing it in his hand once it was empty as he went for one of Mikey’s repeating the action from before. Hand grabbing for the can Mikey was going for before he gave up popping it open so it was ready for Raphael the second he finished the current can. He didn’t have to go and drink the last two of Mikey’s line up but he also had to in order to show up Mikey and rub the win in his youngest brothers face. Who simply rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath about it before he push against the table. Mikey was not in the mood to have the win rubbed into his face not to mention Mikey didn’t wanna be around Raph when he was drunk he was so annoying sometimes when he drunk too much. Ignoring the fact it was sort of on Mikey that Rah was going to be an issue for well everyone in the lair right now. Least till he spotted Casey who seemed to be paying a visit. Perfect someone to to take Raph of the rest of their hands! Usually greeting was given as he made a bee line for the human. Positive they were here to see Raphael in the first place but just in case best to send them over to him then. He was nice enough to warn them Raph was likely outta of it cause they were messing around with some drinking game that Raph kicked his butt in. Very much a clear plead for help to his older brother figure. Before dipping off to his own room needing to lie down. Alcohol wasn’t something he took to easily made him tried if he had enough of it soon as his head hit the pillow Mikey would be out for the rest of the night. So least Casey seemed able to take on dealing with Raphael.

Said turtle finished off the last can and crushed it as he had been doing with the rest, giddy little rally call to cheer and whoop over his win to himself. As he moved to reach for his mask tails struggling to loosen the knot on it. Mumbling under his breath As he reach back with both hands fingers just fumbling with the knot. He knows he tied it so he should be able to untie it “come on damn thing” Raph contained to snuggled as he fussed with his mask opting to tugging it don when he noticed Casey now in the kitchen with him.

Low whistle escapes the turtles beak as he leans his head to the side, propping it up with the palm of his hand. Mask was hanging around his neck the tail end thrown over his shoulder result from when he tried t take it off but just couldn’t quite figure it out but made the way he was eyeing Casey all far more obvious with green eyes trailing over Casey openly. “Bombshell enterin’ twelve o’clock, uh wait no? Three o’clock? Eh don’ matter”

Raph knows it’s Casey he ain’t that drunk to forget them the flirting? Yeah that was very much cause of the alcohol in his system as he rested elbows to the table and leaned forward to better stare at Casey “Come to see the champ, cowboy?” Raphael goes to ask still happily celebrating his win over Mikey far more fun to brag about it to someone then celebrate alone. Even better if it was Casey who was clearly going to be so impressed with their turtle. His tail started to wage behind him as he goes to happily point out all the crushed up cans to his boyfriend. “ ‘ook crushed up ones are mine,” Casey likely would be tell he alway had the habit of crushing the cans in his hands once he was done. Then pointing to the few that were left uncrushed. “Wipe the floor with ‘em ‘Ike nothin’ “ He slightly chuckles a bit to himself over it. Before moving to try an stand on his wobbling legs slightly swaying as he made his way over to Casey arm moving to hook round one of Casey’s as he let his chin rest to their shoulder looking up at them.

“Are ya my prize?” He asks not at all subtle with how he eyeing Casey, “Ya definitely tallest drink of water ‘round. An’ I should get lots an’ lots of it afta all I drank.” There’s a bearly hidden churr escaping Raphael as he speaks near about purring as he talks to his boyfriend right now.

Raphael tried to take a step to move in closer to them footing a bit miss judged as he stumbles about good thing Casey was sturdy and built like a brick house offering more than enough support for Raph when he lost his balance. Board strong arms moved to hold around the turtle and keep him up right. Not all to sure what Casey was saying right now but he recognizes that soft caring tone they hold when they have to switch into take care of my ‘dumb ass turtle’ mode. Soft faint smile comes across his beak when he hears how soft their voice drops, loving that it dose that just for him of all beings makes it better. Casey so nice and caring getting that aimed his way was making himself feel all warm right now. Or that’s cause he’s leaning up against their chest now trapped between their arms as Casey taking on their weight to keep him from falling flat on to the ground. That just makes his smile grow softer, the attention spent to make sure the idiot turtle didn’t go and hurt himself because he went and got drunk again.

“I’ call ya an angel for the save but,” moving to lift his head up to better look at his boyfriend, hand lifted so he could gentle tap his fringes to their face, “Heaven ain’t got nothin’ on you sweetheart.” Low soft churr bubbled out the back of his throat as he moves to get in comfortable with Casey “I ‘hink my legs are drunk.” He chuckles a bit as arms are lifted up moving to wrap around Casey neck a moment “help me out?”

Raph knows he doesn’t need to really ask Casey well todo anything guy just like that as is, never really got to ask him to help you he’s alway right there ready todo so. But Raph dose know asking meant Casey would give him that damn fucking smirk of theirs. That was always paired with the softest stare of those ocean deep blues of theirs. Tat soft chuckle as they took a shot at Raph. Eh the teasing was just part of how they were with each other, with every insult thrown between them there twice as much affection buried under the words. Easily hosted up and lifted from the ground as Raph shifted a bit in Casey hold letting his head rest against their shoulder churning only growing louder as he settled in theirs hold. Arms dropping from their neck to rest over his plastron nicely nuzzling in against their neck a little thank you on Raph’s end. All actions he would swear to hell and back he wasn’t doing once sober, but mind fogged over with the buzz of alcohol didn’t care in this moment at all.

“Hmm ‘ook ‘ike I’m a lucky princess ‘ere got my knight in hockey pads ta help me out?” He offers to Casey letting the faintest shade of red dust over his face before disrupting his own comfort to lift his head up to speak against their ear

“Should I give ‘em a nice little reward? My place ain’t far afta all?” Clearly not seeing how they are in the fucking lair but that fact was working in Raphael’s mind right now, no he had clearly different ideas working through his skull in the moment.

“Ya’ike treatn’ me ‘Ike ya pillow princess afta all too ‘ight? Should have all the nice things? I know the nicest thing ya can give m ‘ight now.” He goes to suggest before letting his head drop back to their shoulder,eyes growing heaven as he just rolled it to rest in against their neck, finding the kitchen lights to bright in the moment. “What should commit to the bit ‘ight? Save the princess get a happy endin’ how it happens in the stories. They jus’ leave the good stuff out” smirking suddenly “But ya better not leave it out.” Slightly chuckled to himself as he laughs against Casey’s shoulder now. Yeah, he was just a tad far gone at this point now. Good thing Casey was there, or he might have just passed out on the floor of the kitchen for the night. He counted himself lucky for as well on that fact as he happily listened to the vibrations of Casey voice when they spoke up again, only snickering as they did.

"Mmm I love you Case."

#muse| hamato rapeal #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ if you jump off a bridge its only cause i did first aflockoffeathers]#drunk flirting meme #meme answers #ic reply #stay queue #[03 verse]#((Casey these are the only times Raph ever calls himself your princess so don’t ruin it and just be nice to the drunk idiot uwu))#((don’t worry Casey chances are he just gonna pass out ina. few seconds buuuut you should at least cuddle with him in the hammock uwu))

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hattrickprincess · 11 months

Note

so i was thinking

their relationship goes back on track and stuff but then they have an argument, over something really small but an argument regardless. kylian's in a bad mood that day for some reason, and he tries not to let it affect how he talks to ney but he can't help it and ney tries being patient, but he's been stressed lately so he snaps. they hadn't had a fight in months and their relationship is perfect, but they haven't spent much time together because of work and...idk they have a couple fight like all couples do. and then they go their friends' gathering either way, and kylian's all pouty and clings to achraf out of reflex because that's what he does when he and ney fight and ney is having none of it but he also wants kylian to be comforted. sergio's having none of it though so he goes to kylian and says "what are you fighting about? is it serious?" and kylian shrugs and go "no I'm just being petty, I made him mad though and now idk how to approach him" and sergio rolls his eyes "listen kyks. that man would literally flip this entire fucking planet upside down for you, he'd take on bullets for you. stop clinging to achraf and go sit on your man's lap, that will be apology enough." achraf pinches his side and says "please go he's already murdered me with his eyes like...eight times." and kylian just clings and whines "idk howwww idk if he wants to deal with me right now" and sergio grabs him by the nape a little forcefully "kylian. stop being a drama queen." kylian winces from the grip, just a tiny thing, barely noticeable, because he's sensitive in that area. neymar's shout makes all three of them startle.

"get your fucking hands off him, ramos !"

sergio puts both hands up in a placating manner.

"hey i was just tryin-"

"what the fuck gives you the right to touch him like that? you hurt him!"

"no he didn't!" kylian rushes to sooth "he didn't, i'm okay. i was just surprised, is all. i'm okay."

neymar looks at him for a second before looking away, still not moving from where he's sitting on the couch.

everyone goes back to what they were doing and ramos glares at him "go. now."

kylian hesitantly stands up and walks to his boyfriend. neymar is still deliberately not looking at him.

"can i sit with you?" he whispers, shying away from his gaze.

neymar just sighs, and taps his thigh. kylian flushes but sits, marvels at the way neymar adjusts, puts a hand on his hip. kylian is blushing so he hides his face in neymar's neck.

"m'sorry."

another sigh.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"I pushed you to."

"Still. I know better. You wanted attention, and I didn't give it to you the way you deserved."

khylian shakes his head.

"you deserve some time for yourself when you're not feeling great, and i could've communicated my needs better. instead of fighting for a fucking phonecase. i'm so sorry."

neymar's hands is stroking his back up and down, and another hand is settled on his thigh, gripping firmly.

"...ney?"

"sorry. give me a minute."

kylian stays silent, lets himself be groped and almost whimpers. he eventually does when neymar's beard scraches his neck and his mouth is against his cheek, whispering.

"are you sure it didn't hurt?"

kylian loves him.

"no, he just wanted to get me to listen, and i was surprised, he didn't hurt me, mon coeur, i promise."

he sprawls his hand on neymar's chest, where his heart is.

"m'sorry" he repeats

"shh, i'm the one who's sorry, princess." neymar takes his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing. "you never have to apologize for anything, meu amor."

kylian thinks neymar spoils him a bit too much, but he'd never take advantage. oh well. that's a lie.

"can i ask for someting?" he says against neymar's neck in the sweetest voice he can muster. he knows by the gasp his boyfriend lets out that he'll get whatever he utters.

"anything."

"kiss me?"

he doesn't need to ask twice.

achraf glares at segio. "this is your fault." sergio grimaces at the picture their friends make, one doesn't know where neymar begins and kylian ends.

"yeah i know. better than them pouting though."

YOU NEED TO WRITE THIS.

no, YOU need to write this.

(i still will if you want me to but pleaseeeee)

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years

Text

Stranger Things/The Black Phone, Bad Connection

"You know when you said you were going to help me, you didn't mention you'd be bringing the rest of the Goonies with you."

"We're pack animals." Dustin explained as he and the rest of the kids milled around Steve's now messy living room. "At this point you should just kind of expect it." Eleven was not included in this group. James Dante had not been found and according to Mike, Hopper refused to let anyone see El. Steve tried not to put too much thought as to why this was. Instead focusing on the large corkboard he'd taken off the kitchen wall that was covered in the articles and photos he'd borrowed from the library. Well "borrowed". Nancy probably wasn't going to be happy if she realized all these were missing from the archives.

"And we're playing detective because?" Max asked semi annoyed as she pinned another picture to the board.

"Weird ghost shit."

"Very specific." Max rolled her eyes. Lucas sat next to her scrolling the Denver, Colorado phone book Steve also...borrowed from the library. Using a highlighter to mark possible family members of the boys they might be able to talk to.

"You do know this thing is like five years old right?" Lucas asked as he marked down another Arellano. "Half these numbers probably won't even work anymore."

"Don't remember asking." Steve paced, taking a sip of the third cup of coffee he'd had since five that morning. The bags under his eyes were bigger and his body was shaking but that was fine, really.

"You sure you don't want to take a nap or something? You look like you're going to pass out." Will spoke with some concern as he watched Steve move.

"Nope. Can't sleep, just get nightmares and I wake up again. Or the phone rings. Or both. Or maybe I'm just having nightmares about that happening. Either way, I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to!" Steve's voice got more sporadic as he spoke. "You know, I just realized, I don't think I like coffee that much." Steve paused for a moment before taking another sip. "What was I saying?"

"Jesus H Christ Steve." Dustin made a face, looking over at the pile of missing flyers for James that they'd been given to hand out. "Hey...you don't think James disappearing has anything to do with this?"

"What?" Mike asked as he added another X on the map of the Denver suburb where Finney Blake was last seen.

"I know this was across the country-"

"And six years ago."

"-but it's weird that all of a sudden Steve starts seeing dead kids and then someone goes missing."

Everyone turned to stare at their jittery babysitter when Steve heard it. The phone upstairs started ringing. Dustin clearly noticed the face he made and he asked.

"What's wrong?" Steve didn't answer as he made his way to the stairs. Unsure whether it was the sleeplessness combined with excess caffeine or fear towards whoever was on the other line. Regardless, he took the phone off the receiver.

"He-"

"I want to go home." A boy's voice sobbed from the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." His voice repeated over and over again. There was the sound of something hitting flesh then a scream.

"Hello?" Steve gripped the phone cord tightly. "What's going on?" There was a pause on the other end of the line when it struck him across the face. Literally. Like the force of a belt slapping him hard across his face. Dropping the phone as he stumbled back and cried out in pain.

"Steve?" One of the kids called out. The young man winced as he brought a hand to his burning face. Pulling it back to see blood covering his palm. He turned to see Dustin standing next to him with a worried look. "What the fuck happened?"

At this point, even Steve didn't know.

Billy wasn't in a good mood when he entered the general store. His father was still pissed about the previous night which resulted in the shiny black eye he was now sporting. Sending him out to fucking Melvald's to grab a carton of milk. Course, he could've just picked it up on his way home from work but no, he needed it now. Combined with the fact that Max had disappeared to hang out with her weirdo friends, he was already walking on eggshells around the man.

"Stupid fucking bitch." Billy muttered to himself as he went back to the freezer. Grabbing a carton of milk, Billy saw the blue logo of the Safety Pup on the side warning kids to never take shortcuts home, he couldn't help but snort. Like this actually helped missing kids.

Billy was snapped from his thoughts by someone bumping into him and he turned to snap at whoever it was.

"Hey, watch where you're fucking going." Pausing when he saw the weirdo from the night before. Still in all black clothing. Still wearing sunglasses. Indoors.

"Oh, sorry." The man chuckled as Billy narrowed his eyes. "Hey! You're that kid from last night." Kid was hardly the right word considering Billy was seventeen. "Man we have to stop meeting like this."

"Yeah. We really do." The man looked him over like the girls from school did.

"You know, you look just like this kid I used to know." The man grinned. Getting way too close and Billy backed away with a snarl.

"Hey, you ever hear of personal fucking space?"

The man cowered away. Flinching like he expected Billy to hit him. He thought about it for a moment before shoving past the creep. The teen had other problems to deal with. Not noticing the way the man stared after him as he left.

#fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #the black phone au #the black phone #the party #dustin henderson #billy hargrove

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ptergwen · 2 years

Note

something about peter and the reader being idiots in love and everyone thinks they’re dating because of how close they are and they’re soooo shocked when they finally find out they have feelings for each other

just friends

w/c: 2,747

warnings: one slightly suggestive joke, a whole bunch of pining, and a god awful ending

a/n: as you can see i got carried away once again lmfhwjshs sorry for the wait but i hope this makes up for it :D also y’all have been asking so yes requests are open! send them in! and with that i wish you a happy reading <3

“this ink isn’t permanent, is it?” peter asks, squinting at you suspiciously. “i dunno. only one way to find out,” you snort and grab his hand.

you’re in art class, although you’ve taken to drawing on peter instead of the work your teacher assigned.

as per usual.

you situate peter’s hand in your lap and roll up his flannel sleeve to access his arm, which is serving as your canvas. peter pushes his tongue into his cheek to suppress a smile.

“lemme remind you of the rules. no cusses, nothing vulgar,” he begins to list out. you huff. “yeah, yeah. this isn’t my first rodeo, parker,” you dismiss, uncapping your pen. “i know what you like.”

peter lets himself grin this time, eyes meeting yours. you hold his gaze with your lower lip chewed between your teeth. breathing a laugh through your nose, you flick peter’s wrist a few times to prepare him.

“brace yourself. you might feel a little prick,” you joke. “hold my hand?” peter quirks a brow.

your fingers naturally thread through his, peter locking them together. you use your other hand to begin drawing.

you decide on a smiley face and a couple of hearts for his wrist. he watches, but his eyes stay on you rather than your artwork. after scribbling your best attempted stars onto his skin, you move up to his arm.

you neatly write out peter + y/n 4ever in big letters.

that being the finishing touch, you squeeze peter’s hand to signal you’re done.

“thoughts?“ you prompt him, setting your pen down on the table. peter looks over what you drew before looking back up at you. “it’s a masterpiece, y/n. you did it again,” he declares. “easy when i have you as my muse,” you lean in so your nose nudges peter’s.

he chuckles and shakes his head, the tips of your noses rubbing together. your index finger traces over one of the hearts on his wrist.

“greetings, losers,” mj nods at you two as she plops into an empty chair at your table. “how’s it coming along?”

you use your intertwined hands to raise peter’s arm, showcasing your so-called masterpiece. peter shrugs a shoulder.

“seems about right,” mj comments, a smirk pulling at her lips. “she obviously understood the assignment,” peter jokes. you play along. “what can i say? you either have it, or you don’t.”

you rest yours and peter’s hands on the table. his thumb brushes over yours.

“sure,” mj narrows her eyes at you both. “anyway. parker, mind if i steal your girl for a while? i need her expertise for my first draft.”

peter’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“my girl?” peter repeats. “what’re you talking about? y/n’s not my girl,” he awkwardly laughs out, looking to you for backup. “yeah, no. that’s… that’s crazy. we’re just friends,” you scoff. “best friends,” peter adds.

“you sure about that?” mj points at your hands, still in each other’s. “so what? we hold hands, like, all the time,” peter defends you two. mj sighs. “my point exactly. you guys are way too touchy to be ‘just friends’,” she air quotes you. “everybody sees it but you, huh?”

well, she’s not wrong.

you glance over at peter. he’s staring down at his feet, head hanging low. there’s a sudden heaviness in the air.

“i think i’ve disturbed the peace enough for one day,” mj observes your changes in mood. “i’ll leave you to it. later, losers.”

she stands from the table and goes back to her own. you and peter sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to do with yourselves. he’s the first to break it.

“can you believe her?” peter tries to laugh it off. “i mean, where did that come from? we’re totally just friends… right?” he gulps when you take too long to answer.

before mj called you out, you wouldn’t have hesitated to agree. now, you’re not so certain. you have to think about it.

you’ve loved peter as long as you’ve known him, and he loves you right back. the connection was instant. you two just clicked, like it was meant to be, like everything fell into place right then and there.

the way you feel for peter, you don’t anyone else. you’ve memorized every little detail about him. you can confidently say you know him better than he knows himself. you know all his takeout orders, what makes him tick, the one spot on his head he likes to be scratched.

peter swears his life’s mission is to be yours, and for you to be his. there’s nowhere he would rather be than by your side. he’s spent countless nights falling asleep with you over facetime calls because he doesn’t want to hang up, he never lets you get too far without a pinkie linked in yours or an arm around your shoulders.

neither of you have ever questioned the nature of your relationship. it’s just been what’s it’s been, two besties for the resties.

until now.

“just friends,” you confirm, although unconvincingly. “yeah.”

your hands slip from each other’s.

you and peter begin working on your projects. instead of your usual back and forth, you don’t dare speak a word. your only exchange is when your knee knocks into peter’s by accident, resulting in a deep blush coating his cheeks.

the bell finally rings after what feels like forever. you both pack up your work in your art folders at lightning speed, ready to go. art is your last class of the day. you slide your folder towards peter, as a reminder. one of you always brings them up to your teacher at the end of the period.

“your turn,” you muster a smile. peter returns it, his lips pressed tightly together. “meet you at the door,” he murmurs.

peter collects both your folders while you gather your backpacks. he heads over to your teacher’s desk, making it halfway there when flash stops him.

“yo, check out parker’s tramp stamp,” flash announces, grasping at peter’s arm where both your names are written. “looks like a y/n original. that’s dope,” he compliments. “the mrs has talent, don’t you think?”

“get off me, flash,” peter scowls and yanks his arm away. “we’re just friends,” he corrects. flash nods at him. “keeping it on the low. i respect that,” he approves. “what a gentleman. y/n’s a lucky lady, that’s for sure.”

peter’s face heats up in embarrassment.

“i just told you, we’re not-“

he’s interrupted by betty, whose attention was caught by flash’s remarks.

“aw, that’s so cute! did y/n draw this?” betty grabs ahold of peter’s arm. she admires your work. “you guys are adorbs,” she gawks. “babe, come check this out!” she summons ned over. peter groans. “oh my god, does anybody listen?” he grumbles.

he storms off, before ned can join them. he then drops your folders on your teacher’s desk and hurries over to you, where you’re waiting at the door. you hand him his backpack, noticing a frown etched onto his features.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, tightening the straps around his shoulders. “no problem. you okay?” you question. “i’m alright. let’s just get out of here, hm?” he bumps his shoulder with yours. “lead the way,” you grin.

the tension between you two slowly fades on the walk home to peter’s apartment. you complain about homework and hold hands the whole way there, like normal. only this time, peter’s palm is sweaty against your own out of nerves.

everything your friends said is still at the back of his mind. do they really all think you’re a couple? does he like you as more than a friend and hasn’t realized it yet? does he love you even?

do you love him?

“snap out of it, pedro,” you elbow peter’s side. “we’re here. you spaced out for a sec,” you explain, peter blinking rapidly as he zones back in. “sorry,” he apologizes. you follow him to the main doors of his building. “you’re good. it happens,” you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

you wonder if peter is thinking about the same thing you are.

the two of you collapse on peter’s couch the second you get up to his apartment. peter insists you start your homework, and you suggest english first. it’s a reading assignment. so you won’t be bored to tears by shakespeare, he offers to read it to you. of course, you take him up on that.

you’re laying in peter’s lap, a blanket sprawled over both of you. peter holds the book where you can see it.

“this better be good, parker. i want nothing less than an oscar winning performance,” you demand, gazing up at him. peter opens the book with a chuckle. “then that’s what you’ll get,” he promises, beginning to read.

you go through the first scene of the play, entertained by the voices peter does for each character. he beams to himself every time he makes you laugh. you’re enjoying it so much that even after he finishes your required reading for the night, you urge him to keep going.

you’re playing with the collar of peter’s flannel, listening to him reenact hamlet. he runs his fingers up and down your shoulder soothingly.

“do not mock me, fellow student,” peter reads in a terrible british accent, earning a giggle from you. “i think it was to see my-“

he pauses when aunt may walks through the door. she’s back from volunteering at the shelter. she has a takeout bag in hand, grinning at the sight of you and peter curled up on the couch.

“hey, kiddos. am i interrupting?” may wonders. “not at all! we were just doing some homework,” you assure her, tapping the book in peter’s hands. peter flashes his aunt a smile. “hi, may. how was work?” he asks her. “good, good. slow day, so i got off early. you know how it goes,” she hums.

you sit up from your position in peter’s lap, the blanket coming with you. he cuddles into your side to make up for the loss of warmth. his face nuzzles in the crook of your neck, your arms secured around his torso.

“something smells good,” peter speaks against you. “i got thai! our favorite,” may winks. your face lights up. “ugh, just what i need. i’m starving,” you pat your stomach for emphasis. “me too,” peter concurs. “me three,” may chuckles, placing the takeout bag on the kitchen table.

she pads over to you and peter, taking a seat beside peter on the couch. peter stretches an arm out and puts it around her shoulders with a sigh of content.

“me and my girls,” he smiles lazily, eyes fluttering closed. “what a sap,” may teases. you press a kiss to peter’s styled curls. “never change, pete. never change,” you laugh out.

peter leaves a kiss on the side of your neck. you and may exchange pouts. your drawings on peter’s wrist from earlier are peeking out from under his sleeve, sparking may’s interest.

“what’s this?” may questions. “oh, it’s nothing. i drew it. we were messing around in art today,” you reply, voice quieting. peter hides his face further in your neck. “here we go again,” he mutters.

you were both hoping to put the fiasco behind you.

may rolls peter’s sleeve to get a better look. she reads over what you wrote, peter + y/n 4ever.

“nice ink,” may gives you a knowing grin. “you two are just the cutest. reminds me so much of ben and i at your age,” she reminisces. “ah, to be young and in love.”

you clear your throat uncomfortably. peter softly squeezes your side and dips his head out from in your neck, shifting to face his aunt.

“we’re not in love, may,” peter states. may’s brows knit together. “no? but you love each other, don’t you?” she asks. “of course,” you answer a bit too quickly. “but… that’s not the same thing,” you rush out. peter nods, furiously. “right. we’re just friends,” he says his signature line.

“uh huh. you’re not fooling anyone but yourselves,” may clicks her tongue, getting up from the couch. “let’s dig in before the food gets cold. i’ll set the table, you two go wash up.”

she pats your arm on her way to the kitchen. you and peter head to the bathroom, his cheeks burning bright red and your heart pounding.

deep down, you both know may is right. you have such a strong love for each other, stronger than either of you can comprehend. that’s why it takes someone on the outside looking in to truly see.

you can’t run from your feelings forever, though. you have to confront them.

once you reach the bathroom, peter turns on the sink for you two. you shut the door behind you. your gaze stays fixed on him as he digs around a drawer for a washcloth, wetting it under the water. he pumps some soap onto it and begins to wipe off your drawings.

damn.

peter scrubs as hard as he can, but the ink doesn’t fade. he lets out a frustrated breath and looks to you.

“could you help me? this won’t come off,” peter speaks lowly. “uh, yeah. sure,” you agree, walking over to him. he hands you the washcloth with an apologetic smile. “sorry. it’s just that everyone keeps asking about it, and…” he trails off. “i get it, it’s easier. nothing personal,” you half smile.

you squirt more soap onto the washcloth and lather it up. peter holds out his arm to you, you starting to clean off the ink. you’re much gentler about it than he is. he appreciates that.

the ink still doesn’t budge, despite your efforts. once you’ve been at it for long enough, you come to the conclusion that it’s a lost cause.

“guess you have your answer,” you laugh lightly, wringing out the washcloth. “the ink is permanent, after all,” you finish. peter shakes his head, the hint of a grin on his lips. “when you said forever, you meant it,” he references what you’d written.

peter + y/n 4ever.

you turn off the sink and get a towel for peter. he lets you dry his arm off, fully grinning at you as you do so. you shyly smile back every once in a while. after you’re done, you hang the towel back up on the rack. you hop up to sit on the counter and exhale definitively. peter comes to stand between your legs, his hands on either side of the counter.

“thank you, y/n,” he starts. “i, um, i was thinking…” he peeks up at you. your face scrunches. “that’s never good,” you cut in, peter chuckling nervously. “no, seriously. hear me out,” he retorts.

“i was thinking about what may said. and mj, and flash, and betty, and,” peter sucks in a breath. “well, everyone,” he admits. you giggle, bringing a comforting hand to his shoulder. “and?” you ask. he presses his forehead against yours, some stray curls tickling you. “are we really just friends?” he almost whispers.

“you tell me,” you reply. you search for peter’s eyes, your free hand settling against his chest. “i’m not sure,” peter responds, waiting a beat before he continues. “but i wanna be more,” his eyes flick up to yours. “if… if you do. i don’t know. do you, uh, do you feel the same?” he checks.

that’s not what you were expecting, especially with peter being so adamant on the fact that there’s nothing more between you two. then again, neither of you have been willing to face it. you’ve been ignoring your feelings just as much as he has.

your hand on peter’s chest travels up to his cheek, thumb caressing his skin. he bites on his bottom lip.

“i think so,” you smile, relief washing over you now that you’ve finally said it. “i love you, pete,” you nod once. peter pulls back to look into your eyes. “yeah? like, love me love me?” he wonders. “more than i could say,” you cup his cheek tenderly.

this is certainly a turn of events. when peter came to terms with how he felt, he was worried you wouldn’t reciprocate.

peter takes your hand into both of his own and kisses the back of it. you hook your legs around his waist, keeping him in place.

“i love you, y/n,” he grins. “forever.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker writing #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland writing

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mackenzielovee · 3 years

Note

Hi bestie, your writing is just 👩‍🍳💋. If possible to do a y/n with Rafe where they fight and reader sleeps in the guest room. When Rafe realizes y/n is not in their bedroom goes and sleeps in the guest room with them.

a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for requesting this. it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, kissing), mentions of drug use/abuse

Word Count: 2.4k+

my writing

apologies - rafe cameron

You stop pacing Rafe's bedroom to check your phone once again. The time keeps ticking by, and Rafe keeps not calling you back. He was supposed to be home hours ago; the two of you had plans to go out to the dock and eat dinner, hanging out and watching the sky. He had told you to be at his house at eight. It's now nearing midnight, and you haven't heard a peep. You pick up your phone to dial him again just as his door knob turns and Rafe slowly peaks his head in the room.

When he brings his eyes up to yours, he smiles quickly and sweetly, knowing he's in trouble but trying to soften to you up. You throw your phone back down on his bed and turn around, setting your hands on your hips and taking a deep breath. At least he's fine.

"Hey, baby," Rafe speaks, his voice sickeningly sweet.

You turn back around and watch as he carefully enters the room and closes the door, putting his back up against it. It's like he's trying to take up as little room as possible.

"Well, now that I know you're alive, I'm just gonna go home," you sigh, picking up your phone once again from the bed. Rafe takes a step forward, then another, then sets his hands on your arms to try and stop you from moving.

"No, baby, please don't leave," he says. Your eyes flicker up to his, and you instantly notice how bloodshot they are. You take another deep breath and close your eyes, ready to ask him the question you know you don't want the answer to.

"Rafe," you start, your voice calm, "Please tell me you are not high right now."

"I'm not high right now," Rafe says too fast. You look up at him again and can tell instantly that he's lying.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Rafe?" you raise your voice, squirming from his grip, "You're almost four hours late, you come back high, and then you lie about it?"

"Don't fucking yell at me, all right?" Rafe says, even though he raises his voice at you in return.

You roll your eyes and start grabbing your stuff, shoving it into your bag. You just want to go home and not deal with all of this right now.

"Where are you gonna go?" he asks you, his voice thick and accusing.

"Home," you mutter. Rafe scoffs, earning your attention.

"It's midnight and raining out. Just fucking sleep here and we'll work it out in the morning."

You roll your eyes at him and continue stuffing shit into the bag. Rafe comes over and grabs onto your wrists, stopping you from packing.

"Baby," he says, his voice softer, "Just chill for a second so I can explain, okay?"

You shrug and nod, telling him silently to go ahead and try to explain himself. He swallows before he speaks, so you know this will be good.

"Okay, well, I was out, y'know, with Topper and Kelce, right? We were at the Club. And Barry came by and started saying some shit to me and it just turned into a mess, okay? I had to handle shit with my sister and her dumbass friends and Topper's all pissed off because she's with John B now-"

"Rafe," you stop him, "I'm missing the part where you forgot to call for four hours and then got high."

He stares down at you, looking almost blindsided by the fact that you're asking him that, then nods his head.

"Okay, yeah," he says, more to himself than to you, "I uh, I lost my phone for a bit."

"You lost your phone for a bit?" you repeat, "Like, it died?"

Rafe considers that for a moment, then ultimately shakes his head.

"No, I just lost it at the Club."

You laugh and nod your head, finally understanding, "Oh, so you were too coked out to keep track of your shit? Nice, Rafe. I'm really glad you felt the need to get high out of your mind before you spend the night with me. That makes me feel really good."

You side-step him and continue to collect your things while Rafe throws his hands up in the air out of frustration.

"Jesus, that's not what it's about," he groans, "Barry showing up just threw me off and it fucking stressed me out-"

"You don't have to do coke every time you get stressed out, Rafe!" you turn and scream at him. He moves his head back and stares at you, clearly hurt by your outburst.

"Okay, look, I apologized-"

"You didn't, actually," you interrupt him, watching as Rafe replays this whole interaction over in his head and realizes he, in fact, has not actually apologized.

"All right. I am so sorry that I wasn't home on time and that I didn't call. Some shit just came up and I had to handle it but it was shitty of me not to call. If the tables were turned, I'd be mad, too. So, I'm sorry, baby."

Your shoulders fall as you start to melt under his term of endearment for you. Even after being together for so long, him calling you 'baby' still makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

"I accept your apology," you say quietly, watching his eyes shoot up to yours and a grin erupt on his face, "But I'm still gonna go home. You wasted my night, Rafe. I just want to be by myself."

His eyes fall to the floor again as he speaks, "It's pouring. Please just stay. I'll drive you home in the morning."

You stare at the boy, the man, you love so much and give in. Him worrying about you is always enough to make your heart melt, no matter how mad you can get at him.

"Fine," you mumble, dropping your bag onto the floor of Rafe's bedroom.

Rafe comes over and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and holding you tightly. He pretends to not get upset when you don't return his hug. You're still mad, annoyed, and frustrated.

"I'm gonna go shower," you tell him as you pull away.

He wants to ask if he can join you, but he knows you're not in the mood for him to be playing around. So, he lets go of you and watches as you walk over to his bathroom door and close the door behind you.

You take a long shower. The warm water feels so good on your stressed muscles and Rafe being in the other room and not with you is comforting as well. Of course, you love him, but you also love your space and need to not be around him sometimes.

When you come out of the bathroom, only wrapped in a towel, you find Rafe fast asleep on his side of the bed. You try not to be upset with him because you know he had a stressful day and hr's exhausted, but you're also mad because of everything plus the fact that he's high and pretty much just passed out on you.

You pick up one of Rafe's shirts from the floor and then slide a pair of his boxers on, then grab your phone and head for the door. There's a guest room down the hall from Rafe's bedroom that you are going to sleep in, because you want to be alone and you really don't want to listen to Rafe snore all night after he's already irritated the shit out of you.

Your bare feet scurry across the hardwood floor and over to the guest room door, quietly pushing it open and slipping inside. You pull the covers back on the bed and crawl inside, relieved to be cuddling into a bed even if it isn't your own. The sleep is already trying to take over your body, so you don't even have time to browse your phone. It's time for sleep.

Almost the second your head hits the pillow, you're out. All of that worrying about where Rafe had been and if he had been okay had really worn you out.

You're waken up from your sleep when you hear the guest bedroom door creak open. Everything in the Cameron house is ancient, so everything creaks and cracks. You turn around in the bed and face the door, seeing your boyfriend's face squished in the doorway. He smiles softly when he sees you, but you can still see the sleep lining his eyes.

"Rafe," you grumble, pulling the sheets over your head.

"Baby," he says back, a playfulness in his voice.

He comes into the room and closes the door softly behind him. You feel him try to pull the sheets up from your grip, so you pull them tighter.

"Scoot over, baby," he whispers, so you sigh but obey.

Rafe breaks the sheets from your grasp and dives into the bed beside you, quick to wrap one of his arms around you and pull you close.

"I was worried when I woke up and you were gone," he admits to you, staring at the ceiling, "Why are you sleeping in here?"

You sigh, not really wanting to talk. You just want your sleep. Clearly, Rafe has other plans.

"You were already asleep when I got out of the shower," you say, attitude present in your voice.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he says quickly, "I just crashed."

You want to make a comment about how, of course he crashed, because he was high when he got home. Instead, you move your head down to his chest, making him relax.

"It's okay," you barely whisper.

Rafe sighs, knowing it's not, "I'm going to do better."

You don't respond. You can feel yourself starting to get emotional at his promises, because he's made them before.

"I mean it, baby," he tells you when you don't answer, "I really fucked up tonight. I know that. I never, ever meant to skip out on a date with you or make you angry with me. I made a really bad judgment call and it will never happen again."

You bury your face into his chest, finally allowing yourself to completely breathe him in for the first time tonight. Although Rafe screws up a lot, one thing he does well is apologize. He's said absolutely everything that you have wanted to hear since he ran late tonight.

"Promise me," you say against him, feeling your tears start to come up again.

"I promise you."

You look up at him in the darkness, then crawl up against his body to leave a kiss on his lips. It's gentle and sweet, leaving Rafe wanting more when you pull away.

"I forgive you," you tell him, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. He closes his eyes under your touch, grateful to have such an amazing woman by his side.

"I love you so much, baby," he whispers.

"I love you, too," you reply, then sit up in the bed.

You crawl on top of your boyfriend, feeling him sit up so you can have a better seat on his lap. You straddle him and bring your lips down his cheeks and to his neck, knowing you're getting to him when he moves his head to the side to give you more space to work with.

"Mmm," he hums, his hands falling all the way back to shamelessly grab your ass.

"Just because we missed our date doesn't mean we have to skip out on the best part," you whisper in his ear, purposely trying to drive him crazy. It works, because he lets out a moan at your words.

"Holy shit, that's right, baby," he nods, leaning forward and kissing you. He bites your bottom lip and pulls it back before he let's go, knowing you love when he does that.

"You're gonna take care of me, right?" you ask him, keeping your voice low.

He brings one hand around from your ass and starts to rub you through his own boxers you have on, smirking when he realizes why the fabric feels so familiar.

"Don't I always?" he asks, "You were so mad at me earlier, and still put my fucking boxers on, huh?"

You grin but bury your head in his neck so he can't tell. Rafe's smirk just widens when you don't respond, so he slowly and carefully brings his hands up to the top of the boxers, then bringing his hands down to your core. You know he's going slow on purpose to tease you, and it's working. He always drives you crazy.

"Rafe," you finally whine, wanting him to do something other than graze your center.

"Hmm, baby? You want more?"

He smirks when he can feel you get even wetter as he speaks. He knows exactly what turns you on.

"Yes, please," you nod, doing your best to not sound impatient.

"So polite, baby," he grins, bringing his lips to your cheek and down to your neck as he pushes his fingers in you.

You moan as two fingers enter you, feeling Rafe start to move them in and out immediately. His grin only widens as he watches you, even being able to see you with your mouth open through the darkness.

"Keep going," you tell him, moaning once again at how good he feels.

He starts to go faster, then brings his other hand up to your mouth and sticks two of those fingers in your mouth.

"I want to hear you," he says quietly, "I know how loud you can get. But I don't want to get us in trouble. Okay, princess?"

You nod, sucking on his fingers in your mouth. He moans and moves his fingers in and out of you even faster. He feels you clench around him, so he knows you're ready. He looks up into your eyes and then pushes his fingers back further into your mouth.

"Come for me, baby, I've got you."

You nod and clench again, then come only a minute later. He smirks as he removes two separate sets of his fingers from your body, bringing the ones that been buried inside your core up to his lips.

"Jesus," you groan, watching him as he licks his fingers clean through the darkness.

"You better not be exhausted, I'm not done with you yet," he warns you.

You smile and lean forward, kissing him roughly and moving your hips against his. He moans in your mouth, not being able to contain himself.

"Shit," he swears when you pull away, "I'm gonna fuck up more often."

#drew starkey #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe #outerbanks rafe #outer banks netflix #outerbanks netflix #outerbanks #outer banks #obx fanfiction #fanfic

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notnctu · 3 years

Text

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!