#anyway that's enough from me please enjoy the scribbles

[alrtyhoney]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 

(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)

The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)

There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 

You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 

Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.

He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 

“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 

The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 

– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.

“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 

“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”

You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.

Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 

“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 

She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 

The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?

She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 

It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.

“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”

But you knew that wasn’t the case. 

While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 

It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 

This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.

“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 

It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.

“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."

Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 

“No reason.” 

It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 

Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?

You dared not to talk about it too.

Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.

But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 

You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.

Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.

Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 

The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.

“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 

The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 

“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 

“But I worked really hard for this.”

You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”

If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 

“Of course.” 

After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.

But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.

The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.

“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”

And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 

“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 

“Not hungry.” 

Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”

“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.

“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”

Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 

You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.

Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 

You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 

And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 

“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”

“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.

Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 

“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”

“And it was my birthday!” 

“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.

“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 

“I have work, baby, you know this.” 

“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.

And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”

Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  

It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"

But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”

And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 

You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?

“My birthday was two days ago.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 

“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 

He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.

“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 

The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.

You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.

“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 

And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?

#alrighty honey ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara atsv #father!miguel o'hara x daughter!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #father figure miguel o'hara #atsv angst #atsv #spiderman #across the spider verse angst

[lillsisamarshmallow]

House Guests (14)

Summary: Y/n struggles to find a place to stay until a close friend offers to let her stay with her, and her two other hybrids. Y/n talks to her friend about how she’s been feeling and is left with more questions than answers. Having a place to stay is great, just one thing, there's only 1 bed...

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Eviction, Let me know if I missed any!

Previous | Next

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

If you enjoyed this chapter and are enjoying this series, please like, reblog, maybe leave a reply or even follow if you feel like it, it is much appreciated!

Series Taglist (Open)

@kalala22 @knjloverr @xanny91 @rinkud @miwsolovely @multifandomlover1227 @belikejk @nikkiordonez12 @wtvbabes @lazullywinter @danielle143 @exfolitae @juju-227592 @woozixo @talyaaas-blog @jaiele @beeltsumu @zae007live @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cr1409 @comingupwithacoolnameishard @hearttakesworld @tadomikiku @bangchansbae @monysakura @elissasimp @toomuchtellyneck @shycreationdreamland

Permanent Taglist (Open)

@shadowyjellyfishfest @marblemoonstones   @jinseartharmysmoon

@uniquesuitcasegothcop @hrtsj1m @ownthesunshine @loumin908

If I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!

“Evicted?”

“I don’t know what we’re going to do.” I explained to Seoyeon as I walked around to serve the customers. “I mean, there’s absolutely no way I will find someplace in just 2 days.”

Seoyeon stayed silent as I asked the older couple in front of me for their order, nodding as they spoke, I scribbled it down and gave them a polite smile before walking away to get another order.

“I mean, you're planning to move out anyway, right? I wish I could help but I don’t have enough room for all of you.” Seoyeon said, trailing behind me. “If it were just you then we could have bunked, but I don’t fancy 8 other people in my bed.”

I turned to face her just in time to see her grimace at the thought. I cracked a smile and laughed at her antics as I scribbled down another order before opening up the kitchen doors and pinning up the orders for the others to see.

“Yes, but I thought we would have a week or so to find some place. Not 3 days!” I exclaimed frustratedly, before quickly apologising. “Thanks, I’m sure I’ll figure something out, hopefully.”

As I walked back out from the kitchen the next person to walk in the front door was Jisoo, she looked around for a bit before spotting us next to the counter, her face brightened up as she made her way over to us. I smiled at seeing a good friend of mine.

“Hey!”

Me and Seoyeon, both gave her a quick hug before we started catching up while standing out of the way of the others.

“What? You’re getting evicted?” She asked, the shock clear on her face as her eyes widened and she looked at me questioningly. I grumbled and sighed before confirming the news and muttering about how we only had 2 days to find somewhere to stay.

“That’s terrible Y/n.” She sympathised and placed a hand on my left shoulder, pausing as the room seemed to fall quiet for a second. “You all could come stay with me until you find somewhere, if you’d like?” 

My eyes widened as I looked her in the eyes with surprise on my face. My saviour.

“Really? Are you sure that's okay? There are 8 of us…” I said still holding on to hope but understanding that she may not have realised just what she had suggested.

“Yeah, it might be a bit squishy though, but I'm sure you’ll all be fine.” She said with a large smile on her face, her eyes creasing because of it.

“Aww thank you so much!” I reached forwards and pulled her into a hug, she had just saved me the stress of not being able to find some place in such a short time and I was so grateful that she would do something like this. “Oh, will the girls mind us staying over? I don't want to bother them.”

“I’m sure they won't mind.” She said, still giggling as I pulled away.

“So, it’s settled then? Y/n and the boys can stay with you until Y/n is able to find somewhere more permanent.” I turned to face Seoyeon before nodding in her direction. I finished talking to the girls and went back to behind the counter to make Jisoo’s drink. I was practically bouncing with excitement as I went through the rest of the day, waiting until I could get everyone together to tell the boys of the news.

The next morning after telling the boys last night about our temporary accommodation and packing most of our stuff into a bag or 2 each, we had packed the bags into the car and all squished in, the ride to work felt long as I could hear the boys grumbling and arguing in the back about space and how much the other was taking up. Thankfully after arriving at work the day seemed to fly by quickly and it didn't take long before we were all squished back up in the car again and on our way to Jisoo’s.

“Next time remind me to transform so we don't have to be so close.” I heard someone grumbling, this caused me and Namjoon, who was sitting in the passenger seat, to laugh, we were the only ones who didn't have to share space due to the bags that also filled the car. At some point someone had started a game of guess who, but they would describe somebody and everyone else had to guess it, safe to say that me and Jimin were both terrible at this game, though I blamed Jungkook for his terrible impression of Ariana Grande by pulling his bunny ears up to look like a ponytail, I don't think anyone got that one right. We had to stop the game as it had just turned into the others discussing and teasing me and Jimin’s height, comparing us to baby chicks was the drawing line.

As we drove along on the way to Jisoo’s house I looked out towards the countryside, beautiful rolling hills and crop fields surrounded by forests. Jisoo didn't live too far out of town, but far enough, she said it was because she enjoyed the ‘quiet life’. 

I wanted to hopefully find some place like this, out of town and quiet, just me and my boys.

I turned down her driveway and the house came into view, it wasn't an overly large house, but it had a large yard surrounding it. It was an older house that she had done up before moving in. I pulled up to the side, making sure to leave space for the driveway before getting out of the car, stretching lightly before heading to open up the back, the bags and hybrids almost tumbled me over in their haste to leave the confined space making me huff before giggling, everyone came and grabbed their own bag and Jin closed the door.

We all walked in a line towards the door, stepping on the cute stepping stones that were surrounded by smaller white stones, Jisoo had many flowers surrounding her front yard, surprisingly her house wasn't overly big compared to the area she lived in, she didn't have very close neighbours and her driveway was quite long and away from the main road that led us here. I could sense Jimin tense behind me as we got closer to the house, but I just figured he was nervous.

Stepping off the cute stones and onto the wooden porch I walked up to the big white front door and raised my hand up. I knocked on the door 3 times before putting my hand down. I turned to see the boys behind me and I gave them an encouraging smile as I knew they were a bit nervous, I saw Yoongi and Jimin standing next to each other and sharing looks, Yoongi’s ears were perked up and his tail was swaying back and forth rapidly and flicking out, they both seemed to be on edge about something, but before I could ask I heard someone fumbling around on the other side of the door followed by footsteps, two pairs of them.

I turned back to face to door just as it began opening but before I could even say hello to Jisoo two blurs passed in front of her before attaching themselves to me, I giggled at their antics as I looked down to see two pairs of cat ears, a dark grey pair with shorter fur and a white pair with long fluffy fur.

“Y/n!”

“Hey girls.” I said as I felt their tails wrap around my legs like they usually would when they hugged someone. I would have hugged them back, but my hands were full with my bag of my stuff.

“Come on you two, at least let them inside first.” Jisoo laughed as she opened the door further and stepped out, I looked up and smiled at her as she had to practically pry the two hybrids off of me before bribing them so they would go inside. “They haven't shut up about you since I told them you’d be coming to stay for a few days.” She said as she reached to grab a bag from me before turning and making her way into the house.

I followed behind her with the boys hot on my trail, we walked past two hallways before making it into her living area, across from that was a large window almost the length of the wall which looked out into her back yard, her house was beautiful. She continued to take us on a small tour of the house as we made our way up the stairs to the second level.

“Thanks for letting us stay for a while, I'll keep looking for somewhere more permanent while we’re here.” I said to her as we made it to the top level of her home and took a right, walking past another large window.

Jisoo hummed at what I had said as we kept walking, the boys seemed to be sticking oddly close to me and glancing around a lot. What's going on? Finally, Jisoo opened a door into a room, it was a decently sized room with a large single bed to the left wall. It had basic things in it, a small desk opposite the bed complete with a comfy looking office chair, at the end of the bed was a large chair and small coffee table. I smiled at how Jisoo had even gone to the effort of setting up the room, assuming this one was mine since there was only one bed I walked over and placed my bag onto the bed.

“Okay, well I’ll go get some extra blankets and pillows for the rest of you.” She smiled as she headed towards the door. “There's a wardrobe where you guys can put your bags over there.” She pointed to the small sliding door that I hadn't noticed before.

“Wait, what about the other rooms?” I asked her confused as to why she’d have to bring extra pillows and blankets into this room as there was more than enough for just me on the bed already.

“Huh? There are no other rooms. I’m going to get more pillows and blankets for you all to make it more comfortable here. Do you not need any? I thought-”

“What?” I barely managed to stumble out practically speechless. She expects us all to sleep in here. There is no way we will all fit on that bed. I thought before saying it.

“Well, they’re hybrids, right?” She said as if she didn't see a problem.

“Clearly.” I looked at her like she was crazy as I spoke and thrusted my hands out towards the group of hybrids with varying animal parts, long tails, and large ears on top of their heads.

“So, they can transform.” She said it as though it was clear as day which made me think about how it was a pretty simple solution and I felt a bit silly for not thinking of it, but I had only ever seen Hobi and Yoongi in their animal forms. I wonder what the others look like? Suddenly I was excited to see what they would all look like in their animal forms and was fully on board with the idea. “Problem solved.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes!” I snapped out of my thoughts, I looked over to the boys to see how they felt about that idea and they all seemed to be okay with it, so Jisoo went to get the other blankets she was talking about and we all began to move around the room. I opened up the wardrobe and moved to walk inside, placing my bag onto the bench on the left side.

Soon enough we had moved everything around and Jisoo had returned with the blankets which she set down on the chair near the door before we all headed down to the living room. Most of the boys were walking around looking around the house, almost like they were scouting. I made my way to sit on the couch with Jisoo, but not long after sitting down we were ambushed by her two cat hybrids who had come out from hiding. We both laughed at their playfulness as they sat with us basically sprawling all over us and the couch.

“And how've you been, Jennie?” I asked the hybrid with the white cat ears who had her head resting in my lap and looking up at me with a big smile on her face. She went on about how she had been doing and how much she had missed seeing me, back when me and Jisoo used to live closer to each other I would visit them often after work and would stay some nights but after Jisoo moved out here and I moved into my apartment we didn't see each other as often.

“When’d you get hybrids?” Lisa purred as she sat half on Jisoo and half on Jennie, her dark grey ears peaked in interest, I told them that it was a few weeks ago when they moved in with me and how I had met them at the cafe but I didn't say how or why they had moved in with me. Both girls seemed to go quiet as something caught their gaze, I tilted my head backwards to see what it was, only to be met with an upwards view of Jungkook who seemed to look serious before balancing done at me and smiling, his long bunny ears flopping down along with his hair, I smiled back at him before he decided to look up again before making his way around the couch and squeezing his way between me and the side of the couch.

I giggled as I moved over slightly to give him more room but we were still close to each other, this caused Jennie to sit up straighter, she moved so that she was sitting on her knees next to me, she slouched slightly and laid her head on my shoulder, I looked back up at Jisoo as we began talking again, bringing up how we were thinking of opening a new cafe location. We kept talking for what felt like ages as the hybrids just sat with us, Jennie and Jungkook were hanging off of me which wasn't particularly normal, but I decided to let it go.

I could feel something on my thigh and guessed it was just Jennie's tail, she and Lisa had a habit of doing that. I kept talking with Jisoo as it was getting into the late evening and the conversation had now turned to the guy she was talking to recently.

“He took you there! Seriously?” I gasped as I moved my hand to cover my mouth. I felt something move on my lap, I probably spooked Jennie from my loud noise.

“Yep.” She said a matter of factly. “We have plans to head up to the mountains after christmas too.” She confessed with a large smile on her face and got giddy at the thought. I laughed at her actions as she went red in the face, the movement on my lap not stopping, I could feel Jennie’s tail lifting up and flicking around.

“Aww, that's so cute.” I cooed at her, as she gushed about her love life, I was listening to her intently, absorbed with how great this guy she was seeing sounded. Jennie would not stop moving the whole time. What’s going on with her? I glanced away from Jisoo and down to my thighs where she couldn't seem to stop moving her tail.

As my eyes landed on my thigh there was nothing out of the ordinary. I looked at Jennie with a questioning look, to which she just smiled like nothing was going on, I turned to Jungkook, and he acted just as clueless. What's with these two?

I brought my eyes back over to Jisoo as she too seemed puzzled as she looked from Jennie to Jungkook and then to my lap, she seemed to realise something that I had clearly missed, but before I could ask, she called Jennie over to sit with her, patting the spot besides her. Jennie seemed to hesitate before cautiously making her way over to the other girl.

“I know.” Jisoo continued the conversation like it had never stopped. “Are you seeing anyone Y/n?”

I felt Jungkook go still behind me as she asked the question, I sighed before answering her. “Nope, I'm not seeing anyone right now. You make me feel so single.” I whined only being half serious. “Honestly, a few months back I was hoping to find someone, but I haven't really thought about it recently. I guess life just got a bit hectic, maybe someday.” I laughed at the end before trailing off, Jisoo seemed to understand where I was coming from. I remember back in school she was always so terrible with guys, it was nice to see that she had found someone that she really liked.

It was later in the evening now, I had just walked out of the room after showering and decided to go exploring the house and maybe spend some time with Jisoo without the hybrids listening in on our conversations. I made my way down another hallway, there was minimal decoration in the hallways, the occasional cabinet with a decorative item on top. I kept traversing the house until I made it to another room, peering in, I could immediately tell it was Jisoo’s, the way it was decorated, and the colours used just screamed Jisoo. I tapped slightly on the door frame before poking my head in and slipping in and closing the door behind me. 

Jisoo turned to face me from her position on the bed and smiled as she looked at me, she swung her legs around so that she was now facing the middle of her bed and she indicated for me to sit down with her, I made my way over and crawled onto the bed before crossing my legs over each other to face her.

“What’s up?” She asked nicely.

“Hmm, nothing much really. The boys are taking turns showering so I thought I'd come here for a bit.” I confessed that I truly had no real reason to be here. Jisoo smiled again before flopping back onto her bed, I giggled before doing the same, her bed was soft and full of different blankets, we laid next to each other on her bed, when I turned to look at her she did the same. “Thank you for letting us stay here, really.”

“Of course, Y/n. Anything for you, we’re friends, right?” She laughed as she looked at me. I hummed agreeing with her but what she said reminded me of Jiyoon, someone who I thought was my friend. I tried to shake the thought from my mind and Jisoo seemed to pick up on it as she immediately changed the subject.

“So…You're into them, aren't you?” She said abruptly, making me choke on my own saliva at what she was suggesting.

“What? No, of course not…”

“Mhmm.” She hummed.

“No, I’m serious!” I laughed out before grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it, which caused her to laugh out loud. “I mean, they're all really nice and-” Despite how her question had made me feel, the overall atmosphere of the room was nice, comfortable, relaxing, I felt at ease, Jisoo’s aura was like no other in the way that she was always relaxed and calm and it reflected on to everyone around her, but she could also control the room and shut everybody up if she wanted to.

“Attractive?”

I threw the pillow at her this time as she interrupted me, my mouth hung open at what she had said before I yelled her name in frustration.

“No, they're all really nice and kind, they're great, but I just…” I paused. “I don't want them to feel like they have to, you know? Because I helped them? And I don't want to get between whatever they have and ruin anything.” I bit my lip as I spoke about how I was feeling. It was true, I didn't know much about hybrids, but I knew that pack bonds were like no other, something shared between people, and I didn’t want to disrupt that. “Besides, I'm not a hybrid so it would probably be weird for them anyways.”

Jisoo didn't say anything as she just stared into my eyes before a smirk formed on her face causing me to become confused. “So, you do find them attractive?” She said,

“What? Well… I don't know…” I stuttered, not exactly knowing how to answer her question truthfully. “I guess?”

“So, that's a yes.” She stated like it was a fact rather than a question. I stayed quiet at her statement because I'd be lying if I said she was wrong, I did find them attractive, and they kept catching me checking them out, but was that weird? They have their own pack and-

Jisoo broke me from my thoughts, and she snapped her fingers in front of me before giving me a knowing smirk, she knew I was thinking about them. My face heated up as I realised she was right, I most definitely did find them attractive and she knew it, I tried to hide it with one of her many blankets that she had on her bed, I groaned out in embarrassment as I heard Jisoo start laughing.

“It’s not funny.” The mumble travelled through the blankets as I kept my face covered, I felt Jisoo place her hand on my shoulder, I sighed before slowly bringing my face out from the blanket and looking at her defeatedly, I was met with a bright smile as her eyes creased.

“It’s fine, Y/n.” She assured me as she propped herself onto her elbows. “Who knows, maybe they like you too.” She grinned at me.

I couldn't take it anymore, I swung myself up from the bed, almost falling off in the process, after gaining my balance I made for the door, whipping it open, desperate to get out of the room and Jisoo’s presence, as I walked out the door trying to cover my face from embarrassment I walked straight into someone.

“Sorry.” I mumbled to the brunette cat hybrid before I speed walked away and down the hall, I could hear Jisoo giggles taunting me. As I made my way back towards the room, I started thinking about what Jisoo said.

Do I like them? No, it's just because I spend so much time with them. Right? Do they…like me? My thoughts were interrupted as I opened the door into the room only to see 7 pairs of eyes look at me, the same eyes I was used to feeling bore into my skin, but not in the same bodies I was used to seeing. All my thoughts left my mind as I looked at all the animals in the room.

I couldn't contain the smile that pulled on my lips at the sight. Almost immediately a golden retriever dog made its way over to me, Jimin. I closed the door behind me and sunk down onto my knees in front of him. His long golden fur felt so soft as I reached out to pet him, he stood closer to me, placing his front paws on my thighs, I started petting him and scratching his ears as he looked at me with bright eyes, and a doggish smile.

I felt something hit my head and a weight on my hair, I reached up and cupped my hands around something small, bringing my hands in front of me and opening them I saw a small little sugar glider.

“Oh my goodness.”

I gasped at how cute the small animal was, his big brown eyes stared into mine as I gushed over him, cooing at his cuteness as he reached his little paws up to my face and held my nose for a second before my attention was stolen away as I saw a brown bunny hop his way over to me on my left. I felt Jin move out of my hands and make his way up to my shoulder as I reached out for the small bunny rabbit and scooped him into my arms, he put his little paws against my chest as he looked up at me.

“You guys are so cute.” I chuckled as I used one finger to pet Jungkook on his face, between his ears and over his little bunny cheeks.

My arms felt like jelly and my jaw slack as I was overwhelmed with just how cute the boys were in their animal forms, Jungkook was making a humming noise as I held him close to my chest with one hand, ruffling the fur near his neck, while my other hand was scratching Jimin gently on his head as he rested his head on my thighs. I looked up from the 2 boys in my lap to see a dark blob on the bed with 2 glowing eyes, I turn over to the desk to see that others, Hoseok’s vibrant orange fur stood out as he sat on the top of the desk as he looked down at me, looking below him, I spotted 2, much larger, animals.

Taehyung's silky jet-black fur made him almost unnoticeable in the dark shadow under the desk, I could see his tail flickering about and I could feel his eyes boring into me making a shiver run down my spine and my hair stand up. I had to drag my eyes away from his before they caught onto the last hybrid. Namjoon's wolf form was large, larger than any wolf I'd seen, his fur was long and a dark shade of grey with lighter greys mixed in on the ends. If I didn't know better, I’d say I could also see some scars where the fur wasn't as thick, his wolf eyes stared into mine, he stood where he was, almost like he was worried and waiting for me to make the first move.

I let go of the two smaller hybrids that were in my lap before sitting up slightly and crawling my way towards the larger hybrids. As I came face to face with the large wolf I sat back on my knees in front of him, so close I could feel his breaths fanning over me. I slowly reached up my right hand up to him, I watched as it sunk into his thick fur, he was so soft, I felt his body relax slightly as he gave me a weird wolfy grin before I pulled myself up towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me as I began to pet him and raised one hand up to scratch his ear.

He seemed to melt at that as he fully leaned into my touch causing me to giggle at him, he kept rubbing and nudging his wet nose into my neck and face, playing around. Taehyung made his way over to us from his position under the desk, forcefully pushing Namjoon’s head out of my hands and replacing it with his own, I moved my hands down to the side of his feline face, I gave him a cheeky smile to which he just snorted at me.

Taehyung's fur was smooth and soft, I rang my hands over his coat and down his back as I moved my legs to sit cross legged. I was filled with excitement and wonder, my previous thoughts forgotten, I'm sure the boys could tell as they all seemed just as happy as I was. Taehyung didn't get much attention because Namjoon was shoving him away with his wet nose and taking his place once again. I laughed out loud at how playful they were, hybrid or animal, they all acted the same.

Soon enough the others had also moved over and were fighting for attention. The night continued as we played around, the moonlight shining through the window and the warm glow from the lights accompanied by the carefree energy. It wasn't until later in the night when we finally got to bed, everyone laying out across the room, using the extra blankets and pillows to make things more comfortable, it was weird not having Hobi in the bed, I had gotten used to sleeping beside him, but with a cat on my chest, a dog at my feet and a rabbit that keeps almost suffocating me, I was glad that we didn't all share the single bed in the room. 

A/n: Another week another chapter! 1 day late, but that's fine. I really loved the idea of Y/n sharing a bed with the hybrids in animal form, it was just so cute in my head, I have a cat but he has no interest in sleeping in the bed 🥲 I realised while planning this chapter that the only hybrids you seen have are the boys, so I thought to give Jisoo some hybrids too! Also! If you ever have any questions about the series, even things like back stories for character or maybe some ideas that I've scrapped, feel free to send me an ask about it because I'd love to answer any questions. 😃 I hope you all have a lovely day or night and thankyou all for reading! 💜

#bts x reader #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #lillsisamarshmallow #hybrid!bts x reader #lills bts #lills kpop #lillswrites #lills 7 hybrids moved in with me #hoseok imagine #7hmiwm #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts ff #yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts hybrid au #namjoon imagine #seokjin imagine #yoongi imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine

[phantasmagoria-in-neverland]

Hihi! :) could I please request some headcannons for various star wars boys with a really short reader? (Your star wars boys marriage headcannons was so good it urged me to send you this ask hehe 😆)

Various Star Wars Boys Headcanons: With a Short! Reader.

A/N: Hi, thank you so much! I am super sorry for the hella long wait, but unfortunately, between school and work I've had absolutely zero free time. Hope you'll still enjoy this anyway! Also, I fell like I should point out that there are mentions of wearing heels in a few of the headcanons, but it's all still very gender neutral.

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, The Mandalorian\Din Djarin, Poe Dameron, Cal Kestis.

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

-Obi-Wan will probably not even notice your height for quite a while, he's not one to really pay attention to physical appearances. He will only realise how tall he is compared to you once he starts to develop feelings for you, and even then he will never treat it like a big deal. Might not even mention it unless you do it first. 

-Appreciates when you wear heels, not because he thinks you look prettier with them on, he always thinks you're stunning no matter what, but because it really helps his neck and back to not have to lean\look down quite as much. Forgive him, he's not quite as spry as he used to be. 

-But if you wear them because you feel insecure about your height? Obi-Wan will do anything he can to dissuade you from wearing them. Whether with more subtle comments or with showers of compliments, he will absolutely not rest until he is sure you know how amazing you are. 

-If you were to try and climb something because you cannot reach a high place, Obi-Wan will insist on doing it for you. He usually never stops you from doing things on your own, mostly because he doesn't want to overstep; Independence is important and no matter how much he'd rather do everything for you, he knows you have lived most of your life without him, and you are more than capable of looking after yourself, but he really can't refrain himself from helping you when there's a chance you might injure yourself. If you really want to do it on your own, he will understand, but please, for his sake, won't you at least let him stand behind you so that he could catch you if you were to fall?

-Obi-Wan is notoriously almost impossible to fluster, he is too mature and also, but that is something reserved only for you, too suave for it, and although you might have tried in the past, you have never quite found his weakness. Until one day, without even thinking about it, you decided to wear his robe. The instant he came home and saw you, he flushed to the tip of his ears. He is still going to at least try and keep his composure to compliment you as he usually would, but stars above you're killing him.

He's definitely going to stay closer than usual for the rest of the day, and for as shy as he has suddenly gotten, he won't refrain himself, because that wouldn't be fair to you, from showering you in appreciation, just don't tease him or you might actually give him a heart attack. He really isn't used to this after all.

-Even if you are not insecure about it, Obi-Wan will never tease you about your height. Even when he pokes some lighthearted fun at you, he always makes sure to steer clear of the more "serious" things like personality or appearance. He never wants to risk actually hurting you. 

-Obi-Wan absolutely takes the time to help you find shops that sell petite clothing options. Whenever he's travelling, be it with you or because he's on a mission, if he finds himself in a city or market he will make sure to keep both of his eyes open.

He also keeps a list of all the places he deems good enough, with little scribbled stars next to the ones he's positive you'd like. He knows how difficult finding your size tends to be for you, and that more often than not you end up having to make alterations anyway, so he's really glad to make that tedious job easier.

-When the two of you walk next to each other Obi-Wan always watches his strides. A step for him equates to two for you, and he never wants you to get tired by running after him.

Anakin Skywalker:

-Considering his height Ani can, and 100% will, hold the things you were trying to reach for so high above your head that no amount of stretching will be of any help. Don't worry, he's going to give them back even immediately… as long as you are willing to pay the ransom. Which will always consist in a kiss, it is so unoriginal that at some point you started doing it before he even got the chance to ask.  

If you were ever to suggest that he could simply ask for a kiss, you're going to hear a minutes long rant about why he's definitely not going to do that, and how could you make him renounce his fun, he's already a Jedi, have some compassion.

-While hugging Anakin you will be lifted off the ground, and more often than not spun around too. It doesn't matter at all how much you weight, you're still so small, and honestly, he could hold you close for hours on end if he got the chance, do you really expect him to stay bent down for that long? Still, you can definitely tell that he not-so-secretly loves your height difference, even when he uses this as a chance to poke some lighthearted fun at you. 

-Being the voice of reason in your relationship comes with the slight downside that Ani can't stand when your arguments make more sense than his, especially if you start sounding like Obi-Wan. He is not going to get angry at you, but when he's annoyed, he definitely becomes aggravating.

Especially because he loves to pretend that he can't hear you when you're making a good point. What do you expect him to do, he's so tall, and you're so short, of course he can't hear you, maybe you should get a megaphone or better yet, a ladder. On a strangely positive note, if you kick his shins to make him bend down and listen, he's not even going to pretend to be upset about it, but he is going to laugh.

-If all your climbing skills are getting displayed while you're trying to reach something that is a little too high and Anakin is there to witness, you will surely hear cheers and a little too loud encouragements being thrown at you. For once, he's not actually being embarrassing on purpose, and he will help you if you ask him to, but he won't offer to aid you himself, why should he? He knows you're more than capable of doing it on your own, and anyone with even a slight Force affinity would be able to tell that he is more than ready to catch you, but he’d much rather clap for you once you've managed it on your own.

-Ani couldn't care less if you can kick his ass into next week with your eyes closed, he still feels like he needs to shield you from all the dangers of the world. Well, to be honest, he'd still feel that way no matter your height, but he'd be lying if he said that your small stature doesn't intensify his need to hold you close and never let go. Also he really loves feeling like your protector, it makes him feel needed. 

-If you are ever at a concert, event or any other situation that would require you to look at something while in the middle of a crowd, Anakin will either find you a place where you can actually see, or straight up lift you over his shoulders. He doesn't wait for you to ask, and he never complains, and if anyone else tries to make a mean comment about it, he's gonna give them a single look that will make them instantly shut up.

Luke Skywalker:

-Luke always leans or sits down when he's talking to you, he doesn't want to make you feel like he's towering over you, or for you to have to bend your neck to look up for too long. 

-Like father like son, Luke will also pick you up while hugging you, but accidentally. He doesn't even realise the moment your feet start lifting off the ground, and in all probability neither did you, not when you're both melting into each other. If you point it out, he will immediately lower you back down and apologise, and although he will definitely be more careful, he isn't going to let go, he has no problem being the one to bend down.

-Luke has no problem whatsoever with your height, and he pretty much forgets about it most of the time. But there are other times, like when you're curled up while sleeping and you look so small, or when the two of you are holding hands and his engulfs your own, or when you have to ask him to bend down for a kiss, that he can’t refrain himself from finding you… adorable. He never says that out loud in case it might hurt your feelings, or make you think that he doesn't realise what a force of nature you are, but you might still figure it out anyway, when he looks at you like you're the most precious thing he has ever seen.

-On that same note, Luke will absolutely melt if you ever wear something of his. Whether it is a shirt that reaches almost all the way to your knees, or his robe that he gives you when you're cold within which you almost disappear, has little importance, either way his face is going to tint red and a lovesick smile is going to spread across his face, no matter how many times he has seen you before.

-If you ever were to hide behind him for whatever reason, he is going to get comically proud of himself, but really, Luke doesn't often get the chance to feel big and strong, and although he definitely is, he is also often underestimated until he proves himself, also, most of the people he cares for are fighters to the core and extremely independent, so he doesn't often get the chance to be a protector and he will admit without shame, that it feels really nice to know that you look to him for reassurance.

-When you are walking together through a thigh packed crowd, Luke will stand in front of you and shield you with his body. It is one of the very rare times where he doesn't ask for your permission to do something for you, of course you could do it without him, but if he can spare you from even just a single push or elbow to the ribs, if he can prevent even a single bruise, than to him it is worth your indignation. But if you were to thank him for being thoughtful? He's a goner.    

Han Solo:

-It goes without saying that Han wouldn't be Han if he didn't always have a ‘short’ joke ready. 

Although he is uncharacteristically optimistic when facing impossible odds, any other time his cynicism is his most predominant feature, so, say you were to say something along the lines of “Everything is going to be alright.” his response would be that “Of course you're an optimist, you're always looking up.” 

Or if you were to pick a fight with a guy, Han would not be able to stop himself from remarking that “Honestly sweetheart, you should go for it, i'll even bet on you. Of course I've got faith in you! You're the perfect height to punch where it'll hurt most.” before getting the two of you out of the situation.

And of course the evergreen classic “How's the weather down there, Sweetheart?”

-Han calls you anything except your name. His preferred nickname for you is always ‘shortcake’, no matter how serious the circumstances. But, in a situation where your small stature is actually useful, maybe because you fit into a tight space, he will add 'Vertically Efficient’ in front of it; Likewise, when your height ends up hindering you, which let's be honest happens far more often than not, you will get demoted to 'Vertically Challenged Shortcake’. The man is ruthless.

-Han rests his arm on your head often. He doesn't even always do it to jab at you, he genuinely finds it a comfortable position, and I’m not sure whether that makes it better or worse. But he also, when the two of you are alone and he is feeling soft, rests his chin on your head and holds you close.

And let's not forget the forehead kisses, so many forehead kisses. It's easier than bending down to kiss your lips, especially if he is in a hurry, and it also has the bonus point of being the easiest place to reach while he is holding you to his chest.

-Han can, and without a doubt will, pretend to lose you if you find yourselves in a crowd, and he will find it absolutely hilarious. You could be standing right in front of him, maybe even be screaming at him that you are right there and to stop being an ass, and he would still look everywhere except down. If he actually ends up upsetting you, Han will grumble for a few minutes before trying to make it up to you, he really is sorry, he just never knows when to stop.

-As I said before, Han can be quite a bit of an ass when he wants to be, and when it comes to you, oftentimes even when he doesn’t actually intend to be mean. Unfortunately for the both of you, old habits die hard, and it is not rare for him to accidentally piss you off, especially when he gets a great laugh at your expenses.

Like the times he catches you struggling to reach something, and ends up finding your efforts hilarious. You’d have to plead with him for a while, before he makes any move to come to your rescue, and even then he won’t stop laughing until you get angry, you just might end up avoiding asking him all together, and find a solution by yourself.

When Han sees how crafty you can get to reach what you want, he will be genuinely quite impressed, but the best thing that will come out of his mouth will be something along the lines of “I've really gotta hand it to short people… because you usually can't reach it anyway.”

-Sure, Han might tease you to death, but Force help anyone else who dares to, especially if they actually hurt your feelings. He is ready to throw hands without a second of hesitation, and he will make the offender apologise. 

The Mandalorian\ Din Djarin:

-Din never, ever, lets you get on your tippy toes or stretch your neck to kiss him. He will always bend down before you can even try to reach him, you'd almost think he has developed a sixth sense about it, and no matter how much you complain that he must already be tired and that it is no good for his back, he always shrugs and insists that he'd much rather it be his neck rather than yours. He'll forget all about it as soon as your lips touch his anyways, so he really doesn't mind.

-For as terrible as it sounds, Din is quite used to the child's height already, and although you are nowhere nearly as short, it simply means that he is already attuned to looking out for someone much smaller than him. He knows without even having to think about it whether something is a little too high up for you to reach, he instinctively looks for the smallest chair for you to sit on so that your feet won't be left dangling, and is just overall very aware of your size. In a good way, I swear.

-On kind of the same note, every time you wear heels, even more so if it isn't often, he instinctively looks lower than needed to meet your eyes. Din can get quite embarrassed about it and he always tries to adjust his stare as subtly as he can, and although his visor does help, it is not rare for you to catch him raising his head a little. It ends up looking quite silly, mostly because of how unnecessarily hard he tries to hide it, and you end up laughing at it a few times.

-Absolutely no climbing will happen under this man's watch, you could try to while he's asleep and he'd probably still get up to stop you, as I said before, he kind of has a sixth sense about it, it's the dad in him.

Din has no problem at all going out of his way to get you what you need, you won't even have time to try before it's already in your hands, especially if it stops you from trying to balance on three awkwardly piled stools, a cardboard box, a cluster of random objects he doesn't even understand how they're supposed to help, and way too many hopes and prayers. Honestly, he has seen this happen one time exactly, and it took twenty years off of his lifespan. Never again.

-Din truly doesn't want to underestimate you, your height doesn't make you fragile in any way, he knows that, but he still ends up being extra protective of you. One of the things he is the most glad for, is that your shorter stature makes it easier for him to cover you with his body. He's always wearing full body armour, and you most probably aren't, which is why he always thanks the stars every time someone is shooting at the two of you and him moving in front of you is enough to make you practically disappear.

-Din might not be a tailor, but he has mended his fair share of clothing throughout his life, and has become quite adept at it as well. And although he might not be able to make you clothes from scratch, he is more than able, and willing, to help you alter pretty much anything. Sawing with you, chatting about the day's events, maybe while enjoying the calming scenery of a beautiful planet as the child plays just a few meters away, has become one of his favourite ways to spend time with you and simply unwind.

Poe Dameron:

-Poe carries you around constantly, so much so that you fear you might forget how to use your own legs. He insists that considering you always end up on him one way or another, and it is mostly by his own doing with how much he likes having you close, you might as well enjoy the free rides.

But honestly, he kind of lacks the patience to slow down his steps so that you won't have to run after him, especially when he's particularly excited about something. Not that he wouldn't do it of course, he does, but to him it's much more convenient to just scoop you up and hurry to where you want to go.

-At times, when he can't refrain himself from teasing you, Poe will ask you to repeat what BB8 said, that he obviously understood just fine, because: “you can hear him better from down there”. 

His jokes are never mean, and it is rare that he mentions your height at all, but when he does, most of the time it's something along the lines of him hugging or kissing you, and then remarking that he is “appreciating the little things”.

-Poe thinks you are absolutely adorable, and he will say so to your face. With him, no pride will be spared, at all. Why would he anyway, sure, your small stature makes you really cute, but why should that take away from your capability to kick ass? He is a firm believer in taking pride in every aspect of oneself, and when it comes to the greatest person he knows, he wants you to be proud of all that you are.

-On that same note, he will heavily dissuade you from wearing heels if you only do it because you are insecure of your height. You are stunning, and he reminds you of that every chance he gets, short or tall, you are always radiant, no need to be unnecessarily uncomfortable. 

He also not so secretly loves your height difference, but that has nothing to do with his unconditional appreciation of you, although he really does like how well you fit into his chest when he holds you.

-Poe is the type to straight up ask you to wear his clothes. He doesn't know what the word subtle means, and he is really big on communicating what he is feeling and what he likes, so he sees no reason not to outright tell you how hot you look in his oversized shirts. If he already cannot keep his hands to himself for the life of him, be prepared to have him practically glued to your side the entire time you are donning his clothes. 

-Poe will panic if he cannot find you in a crowd. The moment he loses sight of you he is in ‘rescue mode’, even though you are probably not in any danger, nobody kidnapped you in the half second he took his eyes off of you, and you in all likelihood did not get trampled by the crowd. 

It is a bit better if he just lost you at base, he is at least sure you aren't in mortal peril then, but he might still resort to climbing something and call your name to find you as fast as he can. Yes, the people around you will think him insane, and yes, you might be tempted to pretend you do not know him, but please let him know you are alright, poor boy is worried.

-If you are having trouble reaching something, Poe will just lift you up and down to get it. Sure, he could get it for you, and that would be easier, but he doesn't want to do it in your place, unless you ask of course, he's simply trying to be the safer version of climbing a stool. It's also pretty much a constant ‘Simba moment’, which he finds hilarious. 

Cal Kestis:

-Every time he's tired Cal rests his chin on your head, and whenever you are tired, you rest your head against his shoulder. You two are so adorable that it's enough to give everyone who sees you diabetes. Jokes aside, Cal is all about these casual, lighthearted displays of affection, and the fact that you two fit together so nicely is a great bonus.

-Unlike Han, Cal might actually forget to look down if he lost you in a crowd. He isn't trying to tease you, and he finds you quite quickly anyway, but he does have a tiny moment of confusion if he can hear you or sense you, but can't see you. He's going to laugh at himself for a while when he finally looks down and sees you standing there with a disappointed face. 

You'd think that, like Din, he would be used to BD-1’s height, but his little companion is perched on his shoulder most of the time, so Cal might actually try to look behind himself before remembering to look down.

-Cal doesn't immediately come to your 'rescue’ when you're trying to reach something that's a little too high, even if you start climbing, simply because he doesn't want to overstep. You've got it, he knows that. He's just going to continue with whatever he is doing, while also keeping you in the corner of his eye, in case of a fall, and his ears open in case you do call for his help, in which case he will be by your side in a second.

-Cal never means to tease, but at times he might end up doing it accidentally. It's never mean, and it's usually just lighthearted comments about how small you are, never in a negative way. But if you do find it irritating, or you'd simply rather not hear it, you will only have to express it to him once, and he will do his damned best to watch his mouth from there on out. 

-Cal has the time of his life anytime someone underestimates you, whether it is a physical type of fight or a verbal smackdown, he is just glad he gets to be present for it. Seeing them starting out all smug and full of confidence and then watching you kick their, literal or metaphorical, ass into next Thursday never fails to have him in stitches.

He also might or might not end up accidentally, and dramatically, quoting Shakespeare to them, something like "And though she be but little, she is fierce", it's up to you to decide whether you find that flattering or terribly embarrassing.

-Cal always, and I do mean always, wants to share earbuds with you. It's pretty much his unofficial love language, and he has a whole lot of playlists he made for you to listen to together on different occasions. He has a special soft spot for walking around hand in hand, enjoying the sights, and listening to your favourite songs. And he's not going to renounce to this little tradition even when all you have are wired earbuds, and your height difference means he has to walk leaning to the side the whole way. Sure, his back might hurt in a few hours, but the happiness he feels when the two of you get to relax in your shared little world is way more than worth it.

#phantasmagoria and storytelling 🥀 #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars headcanons #star wars preferences #star wars x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #gender neutral reader #obi wan x you #din djarin x reader #obi wan x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x reader #han solo x reader #the mandalorian x reader #poe dameron headcanons #poe dameron x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #mando x reader #the mandalorian #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis headcanons #cal kestis x you

[sweaterweatherever]

Sweet and Sour (Tyler Galpin x Reader )

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x AFAB reader

Warnings: Smut. AGED UP CHARACTERS. Thigh riding, choking, hair pulling and slapping. Unprotected vaginal sex. No daddy kink here because I’m unable to write it. I tried. I hope you like it anyways. Yeti reader. Post Hyde Tyler.

A/N: Poor Tyler, was he a catholic? He definitely gave me the Christian guilt. Yes. I hate Inglourious Basterds with all my heart, but I will respect the awful spelling the guy chose.

Requested: Yes. I dedicate this fic to the person who requested it, but also to the anon who called me a monster fucker. I can get much worse, babe. Don’t tempt me.

The first time you walked into the Weathervane, Tyler was struck. The heat of the day made it so the café was having a slow day, even slower than usual since the whole town found out he was the Hyde. That had almost gotten him fired, but the mayor had forced his employer to keep him, citing that as a newly revealed outcast, it could be grounds for a discrimination scandal. Tyler didn’t care. The pay was good enough to compensate the lack of tips, and since it was the only café around here, it got plenty of outcast traffic. The owner was happy. His father was happy. The mayor was happy. He was…well, at least not in jail.

You came in wearing a soft, pastel colored dress, with a white sweater hanging from where you had it tied to your purse’s strap.

“Hi.” You say to him, all bright eyes and a smile. Immediately he knows you can’t be a local because if you knew, you wouldn’t be being so nice. “Do you guys serve ice tea?”

“Yes. We have plain, lemon infused and peach infused. Which one would you like?” Tyler takes out a plastic cup, already scribbling on it.

“Lemon.” You started taking out your card to pay, and Tyler used the brief respite to look you up and down once more. You were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, with your white heart shaped sunglasses perched on your hair, adorable sundress and glossy pink lip gloss. Total opposite of one Wednesday Addams. And maybe he was fucked up, he had no clear type or worse, he was looking into opposites of her. But you were pretty and smiling at him like he was a human being. Tyler was a sucker for manners.

“Okay, give me your name.” He asked, eyeing your purse. It was white, with a soft coral lining on the inside. Tyler could see your phone peeking out of it, wrapped in a light pink phone case. It made him smile.

“Y/N” Tyler scribbled it down, and you gave him a bright smile.

“You are new to town?”

“Yeah, my parents and I were checking out the place. They are going to enroll me at Nevermore, so they are meeting the principal. You look my age…” You cocked your head to the side, looking at him from beneath your eyelashes. “You go there?”

“I will be going there next semester, yeah.” Tyler grimaced. He should probably warn you, now, before someone else does. It would not take too long when they saw you, all pretty and innocent and consorting with the likes of him. “Look, if you want to make friends there… Avoid me. Please.”

“Not a Nevermore fan?” You asked, sitting at the counter and watching him pour your drink.

“More like Nevermore is not a fan of me.” He passes you the cup, and you take out a book of your purse and walk silently to a table. If he wanted his space, who were you to deny him? However, his warning intrigues you, and you keep stealing glances at him when you think he isn’t looking. You like the way his face dimples when he smiles and his eyes seem so genuine, you can’t help but find him attractive.

Tyler notices you looking at him, thinking you are being so sly. This attention is nice, and you are adorable, so he decides to enjoy it while it lasts. You don’t see each other again, not until the semester starts, and he is dropped off by his father in a school full of people who hate his guts. Which, honestly? Not that impressive for a school of outcasts. It seems you lose it once and go on a murdering spree, and suddenly, everyone is terrified. Come on! Their teacher was the one that triggered him in the first place!

By then, you had already heard all about how he killed a bunch of normies and almost maimed to death another kid, plus the charges of attempted murder against half the school. How he got away with everything, claiming it was all Thornhill, and drugs, and a bunch of legalese the public defender spun to get him out of jail, where he belongs. Yet, for some reason, you decide to sit next to him in your first class, looking prim and proper in your new uniform. Tyler doesn’t say anything. He warned you once, he is not about to do it again. He is a selfish creature, he will enjoy it while it lasts. The company is very pleasant, in comparison to his fabulous new roommate, who almost pissed his pants when he saw him.

“So.” You say, eyes crinkling. “What do you like to do for fun, apart from murdering people?” You ask, and he can’t help but snort. Tyler hasn’t laughed, truly laughed, since what? Six months ago? He isn’t really sure, but your attitude is refreshing. Nobody has dared to joke about it, and maybe it is because you weren’t here back then, but it’s nice not to be looked at like he is a monster. Even if some days he is not sure that he regrets it.

“I read, although not as much as you do.” Tyler answers, possibly betraying too much of his feelings by admitting he has been watching you. “I like to jog. And before, I used to play football…” His voice drops a little then, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“Wanna see something cool?” You ask him, and blow him a kiss. He is confused at first, but his eyes open wide when your breath turns into ice crystals, freezing in the air. “You weren’t the only presumed extinct, you know. Don’t feel so special.”

Knowing what you are makes everything about you have sense for Tyler. You are something special, something precious. A miracle kid, who with no doubt was sheltered and treasured. You are innocent and naive, and the idea of being the one to corrupt that innocence, claim the beautiful prize for himself, attracts the Hyde. Monsters like shiny things too. The urge to own, the urge to make his, is almost unbearable. And the more human side of him wonders what it would be like to get to hold your hand and maybe kiss you, showing you the same tenderness you had shown him.

He panics. Really. The idea of corrupting your innocence both excites him and fills him with dread. And so, Tyler buries his feelings deep and pretends everything is fine. He’ll just… be your friend. There is no harm in that, after all.

Turns out he was mistaken. So mistaken it is funny, actually. You start spending so much time together, everyone refers to you two like Y/N-and-Tyler, in the same breath. His reputation improves because how bad can Tyler really be if he hangs with you all the time, poster child for the discriminated outcasts? Besides, you are so sweet, so nice, but you wouldn’t stand for anything morally wrong. Your free periods are spent on the quad, legs lazily tangling together as you go over some homework or some book you are reading, explained with animated gestures. The weekends are spent at the Weathervane, sitting in a booth and doing the same thing, when you can’t get away with sneaking into each other’s room.

Tyler likes you. Like, as in, more than friends. There is something about you that reminds him of his life before, when he was one of Jericho’s golden boys, but without all the violence from back then. With you, he gets to be charming, cheesy, pulling blushes out of you left and right with clever words and soft touches. But as much as he tries to pretend the violence isn’t there, the Hyde still lurks beneath his act. He can’t help but wonder how dark the blush would be if he just grabbed you and kissed you, dragging his teeth along your neck, biting at your nape. How it would feel to have your hands on his cock, how flustered you would get if he taught you exactly how to please him. These ideas, they make him feel guilty every time you smile at him, yet Tyler can’t help but think about it. No amount of cold showers help.

The advantages of putting the fear of god on his roommate is that more often than not, he gets the room to himself. That means, you two can hang out there without being disturbed. Tyler is great at being a host, setting up everything perfectly. He tries not to think about how all this planning and organizing is something he used to do for the girls he dated, not for his friends. All the mental torture it’s worth it, when he sees how you kick off your shoes and climb on his bed, nestling yourself there and looking at the fairy lights that slightly illuminate the room.

“This is cozy.” You say, covering yourself with one of the throw blankets he has strategically placed there. “What are we watching? It was your pick this week.”

“The Ring.” Tyler smiles a little when you shudder.

“You know I don’t like horror!” You complain, lips dropping into a pretty pout. It’s convincing, but Tyler likes horror not because he is into the movies, it’s more because he likes the way you cling to him. Sue him. If that’s all he can get, he will have it. Tyler has never been into the business of lying to himself.

“And you know I don’t like Tarantino, and yet you forced me last week to watch Inglourious Basterds.”

“Oh come on, did you see Mélanie Laurent act? She is gorgeous and a badass. You can’t tell me you didn’t end up with a crush on her.”

“She has other movies.” Tyler states, getting into bed next to you after pressing play on his laptop.

“Yeah, nice try. Name one, that’s not Now You See Me.”

“Oxygène.” He answers with a winning smile. Tyler had done his homework. He liked the way your smile brightened when you realized he actually listened to you, and cared about your interests. “Critically acclaimed, or so I have been told.”

“Fancy, even in the original French!” You pulled him closer, and he went without protesting. You tugged at his arm until he wrapped it around you, and sighed happily when you were finally able to use him as a pillow.

As the movie went by, Tyler started carding his fingers through your hair, lightly massaging your head when you flinched at some scenes. Forty-five minutes in or so, you decided you weren’t able to take it anymore, and so, turned down to lay on your stomach, pressing your face against his chest.

“Hey, it’s not so bad.” He grabbed a little of your hair, gently making you tilt your head upwards and trying not to think how it would feel to really tug at your hair and force you to expose your throat.

Your breath caught.

“Don’t freak out.” You said, closing your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction. “But I might want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Tyler let go of your hair like it burned him. The idea of kissing you was a delicious one, but it scared him too. He didn’t want to ruin your innocence. As for you, you knew Tyler wanted to kiss you too, you could tell by the way he kept sneaking glances at your lips. That had been the reason you had spoken out. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?” You open your eyes then, staring at him like a petulant child. You would respect his decision if he said he wasn’t into you, but you don’t believe that’s the reason behind it.

“Because you have your whole life in front of you. I would drag you down.” Tyler states, clenching his jaw. It pains him to say it, he wants you so badly, but he wants you to have a shot at happiness too.

“Are you like forty or something? Last time I checked, you had your whole life too.” You roll your eyes a little.

“I would taint you. You are pure, and good and I… I am a monster. I don’t think you get it.” Tyler says, eyes glinting oddly. The idea of innocence… Is he into it? Oh, that was interesting. You make a mental note to test it out after, choosing to let out a snort.

“I’m not as pure as you would think. I’m not innocent, either.” You state, looking him right in the eyes.

“You don’t get it. I have killed people, Y/N.” Tyler strokes your hair once more, trying to soothe the sting of rejection. This conversation is getting to him. Tyler’s eyes are downcast, much the same way they are every time he asks if you are sure you want to keep being friends, if you aren’t disgusted. “Dead. In gorish, gruesome ways.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh because this is too a recurring argument.

“Do you?” Tyler’s voice trembles.

“Ty, I know you.”

“You like this sanitized version of me, this boy who brings you flowers and makes you laugh, all gentle hands, but that’s not…” His tone gets angrier, this time. You aren’t too sure what you should say to soothe his fears. Sure, he went a little crazy back then, even arguing he liked murdering people. You know he is scared that might be the truth about him, but for someone who believes himself to be such a dangerous, uncontrolled murdered, there has been a pointed absence of murders.

“Not you?” You decide not to voice your thoughts, too afraid it would end up turning this conversation into a full-blown fight. Tyler frowns.

“It is not me. You might like this version, but as much as I am this, the Hyde is who I am too. And, the things it wants to do to you…” He hides his face between his hands, and your hands go immediately to pull at it.

“Kill me? Permanently maim me?” You ask, pulling at his wrists and looking earnestly into his eyes. You aren’t scared. Even that might be fixable, given enough time.

“No. Own you. “ That is muttered under his breath, as if he is afraid he is going to scare you away. Instead, you smile.

“Oh, Tyler, you should be more worried about the things I want you to do to me.” And with that, you lifted yourself just enough so you could kiss him. Tyler was a good kisser, unsurprisingly. He kissed hungrily, needy, with many more teeth and tongue than any other first kiss you had ever had. It was almost as if he wanted to devour you. It should scare you, you knew it, but it only made him more attractive. Tyler encouraged you to lay on top of him, sliding a knee between yours, so you didn’t have to support your weight and strain to kiss him.

“We need to talk about this.” He said, pulling away. You chased his mouth, pressing another kiss there. Tyler pulled away again, with a fond smile dancing on his lips. “Hey.”

“Mmmmm.” You answered, more focused on the way his mouth moved, flashing pearly whites, instead of the words he was saying. You kissed the corner of his smile, feeling him tense.

“We need, like, safe words and stuff.” Tyler tried to interject, and you kissed him again, this time on the lips. When you pulled apart again, he seemed dazed. “Safe words.” He repeated, less sure of himself.

"Mmmmm. Mine's whale. Now, you either choke me or slap me, but you have to do something.” And maybe you were being too cheeky, but you needed him to fuck you like yesterday. In a surprising move from someone who seemed to be so hesitant to join the program, Tyler flipped you on the bed, ending up with you laying beneath him, thigh firmly pressed against your core.

“The things I want to do to you…” Tyler pulled at your hair, forcing you to expose your neck. The roots of your hair tingle, white-hot pain at your scalp. You don’t complain, curious about his next move. He goes straight for the kill, dragging pointy canines down your pulse point. The idea of those teeth, better suited to puncture skin, rip it apart, sliding down your vulnerable throat gets you horrifyingly wet.

“Do them, then. Or are you all talk?” You smirk, slowly, dangerously. You want to rile him up. Tyler is sweet, but you bet if he lets go, it would be the best sex of your life.

“You are such a brat.” His hand goes to your neck, pressing on your windpipe just enough to take your breath, but not enough you are in any actual danger. You don’t fight him. Tyler finds it cute, the way your pulse flutters under his fingers like a scared bunny, eyes open like you have just seen a miracle. “Why do you like danger so much?”

You just look at him. You aren’t sure what to tell him.

“Answer me, bunny. Or we stop.” Tyler’s hand leaves your throat and goes to grab your jaw harshly. Your lips end puckering up, at the way he is holding you, pressing your cheeks together. He is genuinely curious about it. You seem normal. You have never gone on a murder spree like him, you don’t have a monster sharing your body. But whatever the reason is, you aren’t divulging it now.

“I don’t know.” You say, grabbing at his wrist and placing his hand again on your throat. Tyler decides to drop the theme. He is much more interested in the way your whole body trembles at the feel of his hand on your throat.

“Come on, bunny. Rub yourself on my thigh.” He orders. You stare. Then, testing the waters, always testing, he slaps your cheek lightly. It’s what you asked for, but you didn’t think he would actually go through it. You give a delighted smile, and Tyler can’t help but smile back. You must look like fools. Two lovesick, crazy, fools. “Come on, do as I say.” And because you are practically dripping already, with one of his hands holding your throat, you do as he says, slowly rolling your hips against him. “Good girl.”

Tyler’s grip gets stronger, making your pulse jump. You make a pitiful sound, and that prompts him to push your hair away from your face.

“Come on, Tyler, clothes off.” You plead. You were aroused already, and the harsh denim of his jeans rubbing against yours is making you closer to orgasm than you would like. Tyler eyes you curiously, but he pulls back and struggles to take off your pants and panties in one go. You help him, lifting your hips. The cold air hits your pussy, and you feel a little ashamed at how wet you are from some kisses and rubbing. You look at Tyler, who has already gone back to his previous position. Does he want you to…?

Apparently, your thought process is too slow because he slaps you again. This time, it stings and you whimper.

“Come on. You got what you wanted. Do as I said.” Tyler calmly says. “Don’t tell me you are so dumb from riding my thigh fully clothed.”

You desperately want to please him, but the idea of rubbing your naked pussy against denims makes you hesitate. When you finally do as he wants, you can help but mewl, overwhelmed with the feeling. The material is rough against your clit, scratching at it in a way that’s almost painful. It’s like an itch you are desperate to scratch. Yet, you try to be careful, mindful that you are so wet you are practically dripping over Tyler’s leg.

“You know I can smell other people's emotions, right?” He asks, hand leaving your throat, just so he can come closer. Tyler makes a show of sniffing at your neck, mouth pursing in distaste. You surely shouldn't find it as hot as you do. “Doubt doesn’t smell as nicely as arousal, bunny.”

“But… your pants…”

“Make a mess, darling. Come on.” At that, you let out a tiny moan, and decide to do as Tyler says, pressing your pussy fully against his thigh. “Look at you, all pretty, getting my pants all dirty.”

Tyler doesn’t say it, but this is like a wet dream come to life for him. You are the perfect mix of innocence and sensuality, daring but shy, bold but still wanting him to show you the ropes. Maybe that’s why he gives in so easily, pulling himself out of his pants and rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“Do you want me to fuck you, bunny?” He wants to hear you say it, but he also wants your explicit consent. It’s such a Tyler gesture, it almost makes you laugh.

“Fuck me, Tyler. Please.” You look at him shyly, playing it up. You can tell he likes it because he slowly presses inside, and you give a slight moan at the stretch. The roll of your hips is calculatedly unsure. Tyler doesn’t move, looking at you with a tiny smirk. “Ty, please. Ah…. I… Tyler.” You beg, and this time it’s not for show.

Tyler doesn’t pull out, choosing instead to grind his hips against yours, until you give a punched out moan and your body tenses at one particular roll. He has been cataloging your reactions, you realize. Tyler pulls out, just to thrust back in and hit that same spot time and time again, with scary accuracy.

He enjoys the way you gasp and arch under him, pressing deeper, harder. When you start to grab desperately at his shoulders, clawing at them, legs tensing around his waist, he brings down his hand on your throat, once again. He squeezes, hard enough to startle you and bring tears to your eyes. “Come on, bunny.” He encourages you. “Make a mess.” And so, you do. The face you make when you come has to be one of his favorite sights in the whole world. It’s enough to make him come too, thrusting into you and making you sob harder from over stimulation. You push at him weakly, and he takes another look at your face.

Mascara is running down your cheeks, lip gloss messy around your mouth. You don’t look innocent anymore, you look debauched. The Hyde grumbles happily, and Tyler knows. He is never, ever letting you go.

#wednesday netflix #my writing #wednesday 2022 #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin smut #tyler galpin #tyler galpin fluff

[arcielee]

Hazy Shades of Spring

Summary: A professor runs into one of her students.  Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader  Word Count: 3483 Warnings: Nothing too spicy, so please don’t report. ♥ There will be a part 2 though for the smut.  Author's Note: This is for the poll you all voted for. I hope you enjoy and a huge thank you to @sapphire-writes for your read over/feedback, your modern Aemond has definitely set the bar (for me anyway).  Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon​

It was the fourth walk-by from your waitress when you decided to request your bill and just accept that you, in fact, had been stood up. 

You were single and freshly thirty and dating had seemingly become a monstrous thing to attempt. You kept your humor with dating apps, but you also held a mild regret that curled in your abdomen that you ended things with Cregan; as amicable a break-up as it was, you were beginning to believe that complacency might have been the best option. 

Now you only had yourself to blame because you finally caved to the incessant needling of your colleague, Johanna Lannister, when she cornered you, again, and pressed her suggestion of a blind date with her husband’s brother. 

“It’s his twin brother,” she added to her attempt to make her point. “So you know he’s handsome…”

Your nose involuntarily scrunched with her closing statement, but you decided to set aside your judgment and agreed to it, if anything to shut her up.

Numbers were exchanged and you texted back and forth a bit; he was amiable enough with some wit to him, though not enough to laugh out loud, but it was enough to agree to meet for dinner. The semester had ended and you had submitted your grades, allowing you several weeks of freedom before the spring semester would begin. 

He suggested and seemed adamant about the new upscale restaurant that opened up downtown, which was an old theatre that had been purchased and repurposed for fine dining. When you arrived, its renovation was breathtaking: the inside arched upwards and there was a new mural of brilliant colors on the ceiling, with marble columns that led to a grand staircase and red carpeting that was a walkway over the polished floors. 

You knew it would be ritzy and opted for a black, flitted dress that complimented your figure and cut off just above your knees, with tights that showed a definitive black seam centering the backside of your legs and a heel with a clasp. You removed your cardigan before you approached the hostess, checking your phone to see the text, running late, be there soon.

Your grip tightened on the phone, with a fleeting moment to retreat homeward but you had put effort into your look tonight and you ignored the call of comfort for a baggy shirt and sweats. Instead, you get a table and order a glass of red wine while you wait. 

The time rolled away and your glass neared empty; you checked your phone to see that the courtesy text you sent to see if he was still alive had been left on read. It sends a bolt of vexation in your chest and you finish the wine; you were nettled by the inconsideration being shown by the damn Lannister twin.

An annoyed sigh leaves you and you can feel the pitied look of your waitress. “We do have a bar upstairs,” she offers with a small smile. “It isn’t as crowded as down here.” 

Fuck it. You tip her well and decide to climb the grandiose staircase, to make most of your night out as well as escape the music and murmur of the dinner crowd. The lighting was not as harsh and you seated yourself at the end of the bar, ordering a second glass of wine and retrieving a small notepad you have tucked into your purse. “Do you have a pen?” You asked the bartender and he is polite enough to retrieve you one. 

You allow the new scenery and your new muse, the feeling of absolute annoyance, to help create something for your editor; lost in your scribble and half a glass later, you are interrupted with a question.

“Professor?” 

Your hand stilled on the glass stem, your grip so tight you would think it would crack under the  pressure. 

Living centrally downtown did mean you would often run into students, present and sometimes past. You knew you were not as old and dusty like some of the other professors, but you kept your reservation with social interactions, giving a tight smile when they acknowledged you and looked for a segue out of any pleasantries they attempted to exchange. 

It wasn’t that you did not care for them, it’s just that you did not want to be reminded of your occupation outside of your working hours. 

This voice was familiar, with a distinct, low hum from the chest.

Aemond Targaryen. 

He was one of the top students at the university; he was never late with assignments, would always push for extra credit, and would meet any opinion with his own educated intellection, which often led to heated debates in business law. 

In the beginning, you struggled with your prejudice when he entered your classroom; you noted his gait and composure, how he held himself with an eerie elegance as opposed to his brother and his frat boy persona. Aegon had been a handful, often showing up under the influence of something and once making a crude pass when he asked about extra credit. 

You halted the attempt immediately and pushed him from your office; the thought of fraternizing with a student never crossed your mind.

That was until you had Aemond.

His family was known in King’s Landing, their family empire owning most of everything and their standing revered, with a hand in everything within city limits. Aegon only had passed your class, begrudgingly by you, due to the family’s repeated and generous donations to the university, though he hardly deserved the lowest grade you gave him. 

It was why you were not surprised when Aemond followed the same academic route, as it was expected for him to get a business degree of some sort and contribute. He had a different drive than his brother, he was present and moved with a determination, some unforeseen drive that pushed him and it gave him an almost arrogant air. 

The interactions you shared throughout the semester was a stark contrast to his stern demeanor; his voice was low and commanding, with a genuineness to his tone. He was never inappropriate and you found you actually enjoyed the interactions shared. 

He is also so very handsome, you cannot help but admit to yourself, your cheeks flushed when you turned to see him standing and watching you. 

Despite the scar that marred his face, a childhood accident was all he shared with you, his mien was still breathtaking. It was apparent he came from old money with the sapphire stone chosen to replace his missing eye and you could still see the gash that cut through from above his brow into the sharp contours of his face. His lips were curled, his head with a slight tilt as he peered at you. Tonight, he wore dark, fitted slacks and button up shirt, with a cashmere sweater and dress jacket. His silver chain peaked underneath his collar and his long, silver hair was not knotted back in his usual low, messy bun, but instead was draped over his broad shoulders.

“Oh, hello, Aemond, how nice to run into you,” you are quick to tuck the notepad back into your purse. “What brings you out tonight?” 

He always had this damnable, perpetual smirk that played at his lips, like he is aware of the effect he has on you. Aemond moved to take the seat next to you and you notice how the bartender is quick to serve him a drink. “My father insisted I help my uncle with the grand opening,” he explained, touching the glass but not drinking it. “I am shadowing the ordeal.” 

Of course they own this restaurant, your cheeks burning with the realization, but before you could excuse yourself, he instead asks, “You look lovely tonight. What brings you here?” He looks around, “Were you meeting with someone?” 

You fidget with your glass, clearing your throat. “Um, I was supposed to meet for a date and…” you faltered on the lie prepared on your lips and instead admitted, “I was stood up.” 

His expression is unreadable and he shrugs. “This seems to happen to the best of us,” and he finally lifts his glass to you. “Cheers to the best.” 

You give a small smile and the cheers allow you to finish your drink. Aemond gestures for a refill, but you push to stand. “Thank you, but I should probably leave. You are a student, I’m your professor…” 

“The semester is over,” his voice is low, his expression almost amused and you note how his eye takes in your form when you stand up. You pull your cardigan on, but it does little to cover your black dress and you burn from his steady gaze. “I’m hardly a student, except for a few filler courses this spring, but then I will be done. And besides, I already turned in my paper and you, actually, already submitted my grade.” 

“Oh, did I?” Of course I fucking did. 

Aemond hummed. “Yes, in fact. I appreciate the good score.”

The bartender rests the new glass in front of you and you lift it, “Well, it was well earned. And cheers, then, to the semester ending and good grades.”

The soft plink of glass and you see his perpetual smirk playing on his lips again. “You do look lovely tonight and I am obligated to be here. Enjoy your glass of wine and keep me company until it’s finished.” 

Since you had not eaten and were on your third glass of wine, it makes you agreeable to accept his company; you know your cheeks are rosy as you are swept up into conversation with him. Aemond always had a wit that would make you laugh, or maybe it was the wine, but either way you found you were enjoying yourself. 

With your third glass almost gone, your eyes catch sight of the cigarette case he placed on the bartop; the embossed design glinted under the lighting. “It’s a family insignia,” he explains, pushing it towards you. 

You pick it up, your finger trailing the dragon design. “This is in the mural in the lobby,” you muss and he nods. There is a satisfying click when you open it and the waft of cinnamon reaches your nose, which crinkles with your smile. “Clove cigarettes?” You cannot help but giggle with the discovery. 

He narrows his gaze on you, but his lips are still curled upwards as he leans over to take it from your hands. “It is my guilty pleasure, a treat when the semester ends,” he closes it. 

“We all deserve a guilty pleasure,” you agree, your attention falling to the empty glass in front of you. “I will have to ask for one, though,” you gestured towards the case. “I feel I need to indulge just a bit more, on this night in particular.” 

Aemond stands up and pulls your chair back, his hand offered to you so you can find your balance on your heels. You look up at him through your eyelashes and notice that even with your heel, he is taller still. 

He is gentle to take your hand in his own, his other hand on your lower back to guide you as you weave through the few patrons and staff. You eventually slip through a threshold that leads out to a secluded balcony that is decorated with lights, giving a golden hue. 

With the approach of spring, the night air is crisp and you wrap your arms around yourself and your thin cardigan. “Oh, this view,” you cannot help but smile, despite your shiver. 

Aemond hums his agreement, pulling off his dress jacket and handing it to you. You try to decline, but he insists, “I run warm. It’s a family trait.” 

You pull it on, engulfed in the fine fabric and his scent, a mixture of clean laundry with an expensive cologne. He walked towards the ornate balustrade that stems around the balcony and leaned his elbows on top; you followed him, the soft clicks of your heels on the stone and rested on his visible side, peering out towards King’s Landing. 

He pulled out the case and retrieved a black clove cigarette, lighting it and passing it to you, smoke pouring from his smile as your fingertips touch to take it. The drag is a mixture of the best and worst feeling; you allow your exhale to snake over your features and lick your lips to taste the cinnamon on them. “I haven’t had one of these,” you blush again. “It has been a while, but thank you, this is just what I wanted.” 

You watch him pull another and balance it between his lips. Wordless, you tuck yours into the corner of your mouth and place your hands to cup the flame as he lights it. With his exhale, he says, “Thank you.” 

The silence allows a moment to enjoy the city bustle below, but the sound of him clearing his throat brings you back to the balcony. “What about you?” You tilt your head to look at him, your brow quirked and he clarifies, “I had answered your questions and shared about my interests outside of my degree, but what about you and your passions?” 

You take another drag to mull over your reply. “Perhaps teaching is my passion,” you reply, your brow raised at him. 

He hums a moment. “I don’t think so,” his voice is so low that you need to turn to hear him, facing him and leaning one elbow on the bannister. His brow is cocked and his perpetual smirk playing on his lips. “I saw passion when you were focused on your notebook earlier, you had a glow with your penning.” Aemond blows the smoke above his head, “You do not have that same expression with your lectures.” 

You turn away and focus straight ahead, hoping the city lights would wash away the embarrassment that rushed to your cheeks. He makes almost an aha noise and steps closer towards you, peering at you. “I am correct about your passion outside of your teaching,” his tone is teasing.

“Well, yes,” your mind is buzzing from the wine, the cigarette amplifying it ever-so-slightly. He graduates after the spring, you reason and then decide to share, “I enjoy writing.”

This confession breaks the levy and your passion spills as you babble about your love for science fiction and how your interests were piqued by the classics like Ray Bradbury and Kurt Vonnegut, plus his pseudonym. Then you stop, your hand covering your mouth. “Sorry, I am rambling,” you blush again. 

“It’s cute,” he encourages. “Please, continue.” 

You sigh. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much else to add. Science fiction does not have the same audience  it once did and it definitely isn’t what sells as far as digital books,” you finish with a grim smile. “What sells then?”

You focus your eyes on him and cannot stop the fit of giggles that spill from your lips; he peers at you, his cheeks dimpling with a pursed smile of his own. “Smut, mostly,” you confess and he chuckles. “It is all,” you wave your hand flippantly, “porn with plot and I happen to have a knack for it. Plus, I am very fond of the residual income from my sales,” you finish your cigarette. 

“A knack for it?” His tone is still low and he flicks his own cigarette over the edge. “Like, the ability to incorporate it into any situation…?” 

“I mean, within reason,” you are unable to hold his gaze, feeling almost childish in his large jacket, your fingertips playing with the button stance. “It depends on the ratio of porn to plot, really. It kind of comes down to a science with the method.” 

“Oh?” He sounds amused and shifts himself, edging closer still, his gaze still locked on your face. “Enlighten me.” 

“Well,” you hem for your words, your wine-addled brain unable to stop them from leaving your mouth. “Obviously, as a writer, you wish to set the scene for your reader, the build-up to the moment, but you also don’t want clutter it so much when they are obviously looking for one thing-” 

Your words are stopped by the soft press of his lips to your own, his hands covering your hold on his jacket and bringing you against his chest. Your eyes widen for a moment before you relax against him, enjoying his taste, the mixture of clove cinnamon, smoke, and whatever whiskey he had at the bar.  

His large hands move to your hips, pulling you closer with a soft squeeze and you moan into the kiss, your fingers curling around the back of his neck and tangling in his hair. Aemond presses against you and your back against the bannister; you can feel him through his dress slacks, your own body betraying you by the warmth pooling between your thighs. 

“Wait, wait,” you break the kiss, your eyes wide again and looking him over.

The pupil of his eye is blown, almost black with his stare, and his lips curl upwards. “We should do this somewhere else,” he suggests, his tone velvet. “Take me home?”

You bite your bottom lip with your pregnant pause before nodding. You feel his finger curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to meet with his gaze. “I require verbal consent,” his tone still teasing you. 

“Yes,” you say, your cheeks are red, and his usual stoic expression brightens slightly. He takes your hand into his and you follow, Aemond pulling his phone and texting, his grasp tight as he helps you down the stairs. You avoid the looks of the staff and follow him to exit the restaurant. 

Out front is some black luxury car idling and Aemond moved to open the door for you, helping you seat yourself before closing the door and walking to the other side. Your eyes burn into the back of the driver’s seat, who turns and offers a smile, asking for your address before he closes the partition. 

You can feel the shift in the back seat as Aemond sits next to you, his expression unreadable once again. A beat of silence follows as the car begins to drive and only then does your liquid courage take its hold. You reach to pull him towards you and his mouth finds yours. His lips are so soft, so warm against your own, his tongue moving into your mouth and yours meeting with his languid movements to continue to taste him. 

He pulls you to straddle his lap, your dress bunching around your hips and his large palms are warm as they grab into the softness of your thighs, pulling you slow to grind against the growing bulge of his pants. A soft moan spills from your lips with the pressure and his mouth falls to your chest, his tongue following your clavicle and closing on the junction of your shoulder to your neck. You mewl when you feel his teeth bite into you, moving your hips against him which elicited a guttural groan from the back of his throat. 

You had forgotten how much fun kissing could be, the intimacy of hands pawing with purpose and the soft pants from the passion. The car stops and when you realize it is parked in front of your apartment building; you break the kiss and fall into your seat, your hands moving to righten your skirt. 

Another beat of silence follows and he finally says, “Is this your place?” His voice is gentle. 

You nod your head yes, you mind whirring with what had unfolded this evening and your eyes falling to his hands; you watched his slender fingers slowly drum the leather seat between before moving to palm your hand, his thumb gentle to run the length of your knuckles and back. “Nothing more needs to happen,” he offered you an escape. “But could I ask for a kiss goodnight?”

Your eyes lock onto his, your tongue wetting your lips and leaning to find his mouth once more. His lips fit so perfect against your own, his tongue trailing your bottom lip with a soft nip before he pulls back. 

You open the car door and climb out, hearing him shift in his seat to lean forward. “Goodnight, professor-”

But you turn on your heel, leaning over and well aware of your cleavage in this little black dress you wore tonight. “Aemond,” your eyes rest on his face, your cheeks growing warm once again. “Would you like to come up?” 

With the familiar curl of his lips, he tells the driver to go home. He pulled himself from his seat and reached again for your hand. Your cheeks burn with the feeling of how your hand fits in his own and you lead him inside. 

#hazy shades of spring #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #modern aemond #there will be a part 2 #for the smutty stuff #thanks for reading #♥

[azurevi]

wild roses

pairing: leona x gn!reader, heavy jack & reader (reader = prefect)

summary: ace and deuce’s matchmaking plan for valentine’s day goes wrong, and both you and leona realize that something needs to be changed in your relationship. (fluff, secret relationship, bad matchmaking, possibly ooc leona 😔) 9k (chonky)

note: HAPPY VALENTINE’s DAY!!! ok. first of all, jack is there for like, a majority of the fic because i felt bad just using him as a plot device and decided to write more about his interaction with reader. but it’s still somehow centered around leona and reader. secondly, this is like really messy but i didn’t have time to flesh out everything i already had to cut down on what i originally planned 💀 hope y’all enjoy it anyways ^^

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Ace.” Deuce rubbed his chin, looking between the redhead and the wrinkled paper titled ‘ The Foolproof Matchmaking Plan: 2023 ’. He wasn’t sure if he should be more concerned about the content or the implication that this could become an annual thing.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Ace was pacing and gesticulating. “This will work for sure, because we already know for a fact that there’s something going on between the prefect and Jack. All they need is a little push!”

“Do we though? I mean, we could’ve misinterpreted everything. Not to mention how much trouble we’ll be in if the plan falls through.”

“Sure, both of them are going to whoop our asses if it fails, but if it works, we will appear in their wedding speeches. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. If you really need concrete evidence, turn to the back of the paper.”

Deuce did as told, and found another list scribbled on the page.

Undeniable signs that they are into each other (in case Deuce acts like an idiot and doubts my plan) 

The prefect is always spending time at the Savanaclaw dorm. There must be a reason they choose it over Heartslabyul, where TWO of their best friends reside.

Last time we went over, we literally found a Savanaclaw uniform mixed in the prefect’s laundry. They're already dating in all but name!

Asked the prefect last time what their type was: tall, strong, has a secret soft side. Who else fits all the criteria if not Jack?

They're always talking among themselves when we’re hanging out as a group. 

They always have this stupid lovesick look on their faces whenever they get a notification. I bet my lunch money they're texting each other.

T

“T?” 

“Trein confiscated it before I could finish writing that line.” He scratched his head. “The point is, the signs are right in front of us! Or are you so blind that you can’t see it?”

“I'm not blind-”

Ace sighed. “I know that you don’t have a lot of experiences when it comes to romance, but still-”

“Wrong! I had a whole group of admirers back when I was… ugh. Nevermind, it's not something I'm proud of. I am capable of picking up signs of romantic interest, and my expertise tells me… that you are right. They are interested in each other!”

How gullible. Ace had to stifle his urge to laugh. “I am honored that you deem my opinion valid, oh great romance expert. So are you on board or not?”

Success was pretty much in the bag, but he asked nonetheless, watching as Deuce struggled with his conscience. Finally, with a stern look, he nodded. “I’m in, for the happiness of my friends. When do we carry this out?”

Ace straightened his spine, snatching the paper out of his hands and straightening it. With a sly smirk, he said, “Tomorrow, Valentine’s Day.”

———

The school had this ‘candy delivery’ thing going on for Valentine’s Day, and you happened to have garnered enough secret admirers that the organizers had to pack your sweets into a basket. As soon as you'd gotten it from your locker, you hugged it close to yourself and rushed into the room owned by the Gargoyle Research Society. Malleus was the only one who used it anyway, and he’d long ago given you the permission to enter as you pleased.

Anticipation coursed through your veins as you rummaged through the pile, looking for one specific note. You weren’t sure whether Leona had participated in something like this— chances were he would've considered it ‘an asinine way to help cowards confess their feelings’— but it didn’t stop you from hoping.

After putting aside a few chocolates and their atrocious pick up lines, you finally found the one you’d been looking for. It was a single candy wrapped in a yellow wrapper, and it looked like the kind of stuff teachers gave out to kindergarteners who answered questions in class. 

A note was stapled around it. You unrolled it to find a familiar handwriting. 

Happy Valentine’s Day. Although this event appears to be an asinine way to help pathetic cowards confess their feelings, I reckon that I should still give you something since you mentioned looking forward to it. I will meet you at Ramshackle tonight, 8pm sharp. — Leona 

With a smile curling your lips, you ripped the wrapper and popped the candy into your mouth. The fruity sweetness coated your tongue as you pulled your phone out.

The line rang for a few seconds before it got through. “Hello?” He husked.

“Good morning, is this Mr. Kingscholar?”

“Cut it out.” It sounded like he was shuffling in bed. “I take it that you’ve received the candy thing?”

“Yup. And the invitation. Have you just woken up?”

“Thanks to you, yes.” 

Rapid knocks appeared in the background, and he cussed under his breath.

“Is that Ruggie?” You chuckled.

“Yea. He’s about to break the door. I’ll see you tonight, ‘kay? Don’t forget about it.”

“As if I would. I’ll make sure the coast is clear when you arrive.”

“Yea,” he said with a hint of hesitation, as if he was taken aback by your words. “Okay. Bye.”

Having to sneak around and meet up was nothing new to you. From the very beginning, you’d agreed to keep your relationship under wraps. 

While his brother was usually preoccupied with more crucial matters, Leona was still a royalty, and words spread like wildfire in this school. People were bound to talk if he were to be seen with a romantic partner, and they were probably going to tell their mothers, who would tell the other mothers, on and on until the media caught wind. Then the chamberlains would get involved, eventually alerting his brother.

Knowing Farena, he'd probably make a fuss of you, demanding a dinner and a private audience. On top of that, all kinds of reporters would be knocking on the door, trying to get a candid photo of you two. If that happened, his chances of getting a good sleep would drop to zero. Or worse, they would bring unnecessary burdens to you.

As for you, your reasons were simple: your friends would never leave you alone if they knew of your love life. Ever since they'd noticed the different air around you, they'd been not-so-subtly trying to figure out whether you were seeing someone. They were definitely going to tease the living hell out of you once they figured it out, so you’d rather dodge all the troubles.

Plus, it was pretty nice to have this quiet little thing going on between you, just that it's hard to pretend like you didn’t want to throw yourself at him in the corridor sometimes.

Really, it’s nice.

Despite your intention to maintain discretion, so far two people had already blown your cover. The first was Ruggie, no surprises there. The second was Jack, who walked in on your napping session at the botanical garden. (That one’s on you, you’d totally forgotten to be discreet.) 

Both of them were trustworthy friends, so it didn’t bother you. But if someone like Ace or Deuce was to find out…

A chill crawled down your spine.

As if on cue, you heard their voices outside and hurriedly stuffed the note into your pocket.

“Where did they go?” Deuce asked.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe they went back already?”

“Let’s just call them.”

You scrambled to mute your phone, but Deuce was faster. The ringtone penetrated the silence in the hallway, and not a second later, the door was opened.

“Hey, guys.” You smiled innocently.

“What are you doing here?” Ace poked his head in, a knowing look dawning on his face. “Ahhhh, I see. Are you perhaps looking for candies from a special someone?”

“Nope.” You stood up and hung the basket around your elbow. “I was just checking to see if one of you guys would give me something. The result is heartbreaking, by the way.”

They shared a suspicious look. 

“Allow us to piece your heart back together then. We have a mission from Sam.” Deuce fished out a piece of folded paper from his jacket. “Gotta pick up something from town.”

“Great. Let’s go.” You wiped the invisible dust from your pants. It was always a treat to be able to leave the campus, and the trip might give you an opportunity to buy some flowers for tonight's date.

“Nuh-uh, not so fast.” Ace threw his arm around your shoulder. “We are going to make a stop at Savanaclaw.”

———

Ruggie was the first to greet you as you stepped out of the mirror, a large sack swung over his shoulder. He looked like Santa Claus. “Morning! Are you looking for Leona?”

“Nah, we’re here for Jack.” Ace said.

“Then he should be in his room.” Ruggie pointed vaguely behind himself, and your friends headed over, leaving you two alone.

“You’re quite the popular hyena, aren’t you?” You jutted your jaw at the bag.

“This? Nah. I just collected them from people who don’t like sweets.” He eyed your basket. “Any chance you’re one of them?”

“I mean, I’ve already got the one I want, so…” you handed him the whole thing, and his grin grew wider. Grim would've whined about it if he'd been here, but he was too busy getting his fill at Kalim’s.

“Touche. Between you and me, Leona actually spent days ruminating on what to do for Valentine’s Day. You didn’t hear it from me though.”

Thank the heavens no one was around to catch your lovestruck expression.

Speaking of the devils, Ace and Deuce promptly returned with Jack. Trailing behind by a few steps was a grumpy Leona. His eyes spotted you first, softened around the edges, before returning to drill holes in the back of Ace’s head.

Jack greeted you as soon as you were all standing together. “We’re running errands for Sam right? Let’s get to it.”

“Yes-”

“Not so fast.” Leona spoke over Deuce. “I’m coming. Jack can stay.”

“Woah, Sam’s permit only says our names, so technically you can't be off schoolground.” Ace waves the paper in the air, passing him a pointed look.

“I don’t care. There's no way I'll let you trouble magnets go out on your own.” 

“Relax, we’re not that unruly. Plus Jack's here, he’s our voice of reason.” 

Jack nodded firmly. “That’s right, I’ll make sure they don’t fall out of line.”

The irritation on Leona’s face was indisputable. Something was definitely going on in his head. 

“Be real here, why would you even want to come with us? You don’t care if we got into trouble.” Ace scrunched his face into a frown.

Leona stared down at your red-haired friend before his gaze moved to you, unreadable yet solemn. Perhaps he was anxious that you couldn’t make it back in time for the date.

“Don’t worry, we will be back before it gets dark.” Your addition seemed to be making things worse for him. He clicked his tongue and swiveled around, tearing himself away from this mess. 

After some contemplation, he bit out, “Fine, go have your fun.” 

With that finally settled, Ace and Deuce ecstatically looped their arms around Jack’s and your elbows, as if preventing you from running away, and hopped into the mirror. The last thing you saw was Leona mumbling something to Ruggie and the drop of the hyena’s jaw.

———

The townspeople took Valentine’s Day a lot more seriously than you’d expected. Bakeries had all kinds of pastries displayed readily to the lengthening queue, and customers swarmed into flower shops in hope of grabbing the last bouquets available. Even booksellers decided to join in on the fun, slapping discounts on all romance novels and comics alike. Just around the corner, a few buskers were playing some sappy love songs on their guitars in front of a thin audience.

“It’s like a whole festival here.” You commented as you weaved through the crowd with Jack. He was tall enough that you didn’t have to worry about losing him in the waves. Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce were keeping up from behind, engrossed in their own conversation. 

“I agree. I didn’t expect Valentine’s Day to be such a big deal.” He said.

“You’re not the kind of people who think it unnecessary, are you?”

“Not really. You can express your love any other day, so it’s kind of pointless from that point of view, but I guess it’s a good opportunity for people to confess their feelings.”

“I also like to think of it as a reminder for people to show their love more bravely.” You caught sight of a heart-shaped chocolate the size of a cauldron through a shop window. “...Though it can also become an unfortunate tool for capitalism.”

“I assume that you will be celebrating?”

You sensed what he was hinting at. “Yup, after some convincing. By the way, is it just me or are Ace and Deuce acting a bit weird today?”

“I thought I was the only one.” He looked back briefly, though he couldn't spot anyone with their distinctive hair colors. They were probably just distracted somewhere. “They barged into my room and told me to dress up. Who dresses up to run errands?”

Evidently he went along, seeing as how he was wearing a white dress shirt instead of his usual comfy t-shirts. 

“You don’t think they’re pranking us, are they?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Just then, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You tugged at Jack's sleeve to pull him to the side of the road. It was a rare text from Leona.

Leona: where are you?

You: just got into town

You: good thing you didn't come along, you would've gagged at the amount of lovey-dovey stuff here

Leona: so you don't know

You: ?

He spent a few seconds typing and re-typing. In your wait, you looked up and found your two friends still missing.

Leona: they're trying to set you up with jack.

What.

What the heck.

Your thoughts sped up. The picture started coming together in your head. No, it made sense. Them insisting that Jack came instead of Leona, literally telling him to dress up? 'Allow us to piece your heart back together'? All of their actions verified Leona's words. 

You: damn, ur right

You: wait, how did you figure it out?

Leona: they told me in my face when they ran into me just now. said that they were going to be matchmakers and put an end to your 'endless pining'

You: -_-

So that's why he was acting all frustrated back there. You stole a glance at Jack, who was trying to call your friends, albeit to no avail. He was definitely not going to like what he was about to hear.

You: at least we now know of their absurd plan. i'll tell jack

Leona: k

You: are you upset?

Leona: no. even if i were, i would only be upset with your nosy friends

Leona: just make sure to come back on time. you were the one who wanted to celebrate vday after all

You: roger that :)

"Was that one of them?" Jack asked as you pocketed your phone.

"Nope. You can stop calling, by the way. They're not going to answer."

He frowned as you pulled the shopping list out of his hand. "Why?"

"Because they left us alone on purpose. They're trying to play cupid." You waved the unfolded paper in front of his face. He read the content carefully before sputtering. In his head, he tried to put two and two together. The moment it all clicked, his shoulders tensed. "No way."

It was an actual shopping list from Sam, stamped by him and all, but the items were absolutely ludicrous, not to mention obvious. Roses, jewelry, plushies… and the definite proof that he was in on it, or was at least held at gunpoint as he drafted the list: the line ‘Treat yourself, little imps! Everything’s on me’ at the bottom of the page. Despite its absurdity, it was also a binding term. If you failed to get everything as instructed, he had the right to report you for leaving the campus and skipping some classes without a justified cause.

Not that he would, right?

As much as you hated to admit, there didn't seem to be a way you could get out of this mess.

"What do we do?" He shook his head. "I don't even know how they got the idea of bringing us together. And you were supposed to spend the day with Leona, not me. This is so messed up-"

"Hey, it's okay. Leona already knows. He was the one who told me."

He blinked at you blankly. "Is he going to come after me?"

You let out a laugh. "Not on my watch. Look, how about we just go along with it and get everything on the list? Then we will head back on time and I can have my date with Leona. After that we can dangle Ace and Deuce upside down outside Ramshackle."

Jack turned to the crowd, donning his deep-in-thought look. You could almost see the cogwheels moving in his brain, trying to find a way to avoid this. There was none. He shook his head at last, "Alright, let's get the stuff as soon as possible."

———

After deciding that you would buy the roses first, the two of you ventured through the streets to find a less packed flower shop. As you strayed farther from the center of the town, the number of pedestrians dwindled, and soon you could walk side by side without being bumped into and feeling your shoulder dislocate.

The silence between you was not awkward, but it was stretched, begging to be filled. Jack had always had the habit of using his words sparingly, believing that actions spoke louder, but this was different. You could tell that he was on edge, eyes darting around as if trying to catch every passing shadow, hands stuffed in his pockets, tail swishing stiffly. 

He was uncomfortable. And he was acting like he wasn't, because that's what he'd been saying for the past thirty minutes. Eventually you gave up, opting to protect that tense little bubble surrounding you.

As much as you'd like to argue that this wasn't how you usually interacted, you realized that you couldn't. Truth was, you seldom hung out outside of a group setting, and even when you were alone, it was usually for matters like how he could help cover you up as you left the group to find your favorite lion, and homework. 

To be frank, you didn't know that much about Jack.

A humble little shop was chosen at last, but even it had quite the amount of customers loitering around, most of them attempting to conceal their last-minute anxiousness. You assumed that they must've forgotten to buy something beforehand. 

"How may I help you, lovebirds?" A tall woman with baby-blue glasses greeted you enthusiastically. Jack tensed up like someone had just stepped on his tail.

"Would you happen to have red roses?" You asked instead.

"Oh, of course. How many would you like? A lot of couples go for a hundred, but the really earnest ones go for as much as two. You two look quite sweet together, perhaps you would–"

"We're not," Jack rushed to say. "We're not a couple."

"Oh," the shopkeeper squinted at you. "Ohhh… it's like that, huh? In that case, you should take a look at this guide," she pulled out a laminated sheet and slid it across the wooden counter.

It was a comprehensive guide to the number of roses and all of their meanings, from one to twenty, then skipping to hundreds and thousands. 

"Who would buy three thousand roses?" You whispered to Jack.

"I don't know," he said. "How many should we get?"

Most of the numbers carried love declarations, but there was one that fit. "How about thirteen?" 'Friends forever'.

"Looks good."

"Alright, we'll get thirteen," you gave the sheet back to the lady. She checked your choice briefly, looked up, lifted her glasses with her index finger, then nodded meaningfully. 

"Alright, thirteen red roses coming right up. You can fill this up while you're waiting." She handed you another white card and a black marker to be put together with the bouquet. The vaguely printed words instructed you to write some 'sweet words for your beloved'.

When you turned to Jack for help, he looked like he was going to run out of the shop at any given moment.

"Hey, is everything alright?" You questioned. "And don't lie to me, I can tell."

He ruffled his snowy hair, averting his eyes. "I apologize. It's just… I'm not very comfortable with all this coupley stuff."

You nodded slowly, contemplating his words. 

"It's not you, don't worry, it's just…" he shut his eyes, trying to escape the embarrassment. "You're Leona's partner, and I'm just a friend. It feels wrong to do all this with you."

Oh. Oh. 

Shit. You almost felt bad for not figuring that out by yourself. Jack, even after everything, still looked up to Leona as an accomplished role model. Not to mention he was his dorm leader and a literal force to be reckoned with. He probably thought that he was crossing some lines. 

Maybe he was. Perhaps there were unspoken rules among beastmen. And lions were known to be protective of their own pride…

When you thought about it this way, it wasn’t hard to see why he felt like a fish out of water at all. 

You tapped the marker against the counter. You never imagined that dating Leona would inadvertently cause Jack to be extra careful around you, but now that you knew, you were determined to thaw the ice. “How about we treat this as a normal, friendly hangout?” 

He arched his brow, clearly finding the idea of pretending you weren't surrounded by romance-centric decorations all around you unrealistic.

"Valentine's Day is just an excuse to promote love anyways, and love is not limited to romance, you know?" You took off the cap on the marker and started scribbling. "I can write some sweet words for you as a friend too. For one, I admire your unerring determination and your strong morals. There you go."

There was still uncertainty shimmering in his eyes as he took in your written words, but eventually he nodded. "Fine, I'll give it a try. I admire your bravery and courage."

"Aw, thank you, my dear friend." You elbowed him playfully, and he stifled a grin. 

"Here's your order, darlings!" The shopkeeper came back with the roses hugged by a pink wrapping paper. It looked like she was trying very hard not to peek at what you'd written down on the card.  You paid for the flowers and passed your thanks before heading out to the next mission.

“The best pastries in town… should we go to the pâtisserie Vil mentioned before?” Jack suggested. You agreed in a blink; it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to crown it the best among its competitors in the world.

Though on second thought, it didn't seem like a feasible idea after all. A dense group of exasperated customers had blocked the front of the shop, so much so that you could only see the boss' hands waving in the air like a drowning man's. Everyone's voices overlapped, but you could make out some common protests: not enough, waited for a long time, unfair, et cetera. 

"-ys. GUYS!" The boss' squeaky voice somehow managed to calm the ocean of complaints. The whole street dropped to silence at his command. "We are really sorry, but this is the only one we have left!"

"Then you should've baked more!' A gruff voice yelled.

"Maybe you should've ordered earlier!" The boss countered. "Anyways, I know y'all aren't going to leave me alone anyways, so to be fair," he made an air quote. "I'll let y'all fight for it. Whoever is the best at arm wrestling gets the last piece."

You turned to Jack. He bobbed his head knowingly.

Immediately, people got into groups and looked for any kind of flat surfaces– the outdoor seats of a nearby restaurant, the top of the pâtisserie's empty display case. Two men were laying on their stomachs on the gritty pavement. The crowd dispersed like ants under a rock, desperate to get that final piece of cake.

Jack grimaced. "I fear Valentine's Day is driving people insane."

"Hopefully not us." Bowing forward, you tried to take a look at the pâtisserie's sole survivor. An opening between two struggling contestants revealed that it was a piece of fruit cake.

"Pear compote." Jack blurted out.

"What?"

"That's pear compote dripped on top."

There was a distant… longing in his eyes. "Is that what you like?"

"It's my favorite. It's just the right amount of sweet, it's versatile, and my mum used to make it all the time. Everyone in my family likes it, in fact. I wish I'd brought a few more jars with me."

"Well, I'm sure we can get you the cake. I don't think there's anyone who can beat you in arm wrestling."

"No. There's one."

You crooked your brow.

He tipped his head back, staring at the sky as he relieved the memory. "Back then, Leona beat me effortlessly even after I used my unique magic."

"Whaaat." You dragged out the word. "For real?"

"I couldn't believe it at first too. It was humbling, to say the least."

"I bet I can beat him though." You mused. 

He exhaled sharply. "This is a battle of physical strength, not running head first into troubles."

"Unprovoked. But it's also a battle of wits. There's quite a few of his weaknesses I can use." The random theory took a contemplative turn as you started counting the cards up your sleeves: Leona might look like he had a rock for a heart, but you pulled a rare reaction from him the first time you called him your king. Caressing the back of his ears always elicited honest shivers. Would a smothering look or a wink catch him off guard? Hopefully he wouldn't mind you experimenting on him.

"You're probably one of the very few people who can say that." Jack shifted his weight to his other foot, briefly scanning the progress of the contestants before adopting a low voice. "I hope you don't mind me asking, it's been on my mind for some time now. How did you actually end up together? I'm aware that you got close after the Magift tournament, but the rest was a mystery… Nah, forget it. I shouldn't violate your privacy."

"I don't mind sharing," you reassured him. "Obviously it wasn't easy. He barely cared about me at first, even after the tournament, but I was determined to get to know him. There's no shell I can't crack, after all. He's strong and fierce and self-assured, but I also sensed that there was a brightness inside him that got snuffed out over time. I'm sure you're aware too. 

Anyways, the more we opened up to each other, the more I realized that he's not who he seemed to be on the surface. He's caring in his own way, and he's unfaltering when he has his mind set on a goal. His words may appear sharp, but he's not unsympathetic. Despite his arrogance, he's not so full of himself that he can't admit his faults. Where no one noticed, he was the one who found out that I was feeling out of place here… I got to know so many new sides to him. To be honest, I wasn't planning to fall in love, but this kind of thing just happens, like soft knocks on the door."

A tall woman marched past you, cursing loudly after losing her game. You stepped aside, realizing now that Jack had gone quiet. "Sorry for rambling, I got caught up in myself."

"Don't apologize. I think that it's sweet," there was a hint of a smile on his face. "You looked like my sister whenever she sees a pink morning sky just now. It's great to have someone you can rely on wholeheartedly. I'm sure he feels the same about you."

You were certain of that too. "Aw, stop. You're making me embarrassed." You punched his arm without a concern for your force; he probably didn't even feel it. 

The various battles seemed to have narrowed down to a few. The boss was standing in front of two straining men, faces red with blood, veins bulging on their necks. A battle cry forced its way out of one of them, only for him to be overwhelmed immediately. His body was loose as his boyfriend dragged him off the ground.

"Jeez. Alright, is there anyone else?" The boss asked. The victorious guy smashed his fists together, shooting silent warnings at anyone who was bold enough to even consider challenging him. No one moved.

"Me." Jack stepped forward, and you did a small, encouraging whoop from behind. The man glared into his eyes. He wasn't a lot shorter than Jack, and their physiques were similar, but you had faith in your friend.

"Start whenever you want, I'm getting sick of this." The boss mumbled.

Jack bowed his head respectfully before positioning his elbow on top of the counter, flexing his fingers. His rival mirrored him, assuming a strong grip on his hand. 

It started without a countdown, like they managed to communicate with facial expressions alone. All around you were held breaths as they struggled against each other–

–for one second. Jack immediately slammed the man's arm down like he was flipping a book.

"What the hell?" He cried out, holding his wrist in disbelief before making a run for it, as though in shame. 

"Congrats, you've won the cake!" The boss feigned enthusiasm. When the bystanders booed, he resumed his annoyed scowl, "Go home! It was a fair game!"

"That didn't go as expected," Jack told you as you watched the cake enter the safe protection of the corrugated box. "But I'm glad we won."

"All thanks to you. I didn't even get to chant my slogan. We will, we will, rock you-"

"Please stop."

"Okay." 

Laughter bubbled out of you a second later. Even he failed to hold in the titters that slipped past his lips as he shook his head. The ice was melting away already.

Jack volunteered to hold both the bouquet and the cake, so you took on the role of navigation. "Next up, we need to buy jewelry. I know a place."

It was a chain store of a brand Vil had not only done promotion for, but also personally approved of, so the quality was sure to be high. But so was the price. 

The two of you stood silently in front of the suited employee who went by Eris, staring unblinkingly at the silvery chains in the vitrine. The price tags glared back at you, who looked like you'd wandered in by accident.

"I was going to propose getting an expensive one since it's not our money anyways, but even the cheapest earring is worth ten times my life." You whispered.

"I wouldn't compare you with an earring, but I agree with the prices." 

"May I help you?" Eris asked for the third time since you'd entered the shop. 'We'll have a look around' probably wasn't going to work anymore. "Any particular kinds of accessories you're looking for?"

The thing was, neither of you wore that much jewelry anyways. It would only get in the way of his training, and you could barely spare money for your friends' birthdays, let alone luxury like this. But throwing it into your drawer with other miscellaneous trinkets was just sinister. 

"How about rings? We have promise rings for couples–"

"No, thanks."

"How about necklaces?" You suggested, which earned a satisfied look from Eris as she left to find you some styles.

"Why necklaces?" Jack asked.

"Well, neither of us is going to wear it, so I thought, why not give it to your cacti? You can put it around the pot. It'll be like dressing them up."

“A designer necklace for my cacti?” His brows knitted into a disapproving frown. “I mean, they deserve nothing less, but still-”

“Then it’s settled.” You replied. Eris arrived just then and ended any argument that might be forming in his head.

Most of the necklaces came in pairs, and each pair held no significant differences between one another. Sure, the charms varied in shapes and colors, but they were all just… argent.

Your attention landed on the pair on the fair right. Each half had a hand-shaped ornament that fit into each other when put together. The rest were pretty much the same: two halves of a heart, two halves of a cat, the same design but flipped over.

Your mind wandered. Adjacent to you was another couple admiring the opal bracelets hugging their wrists. Streaks of azure swirled within each crystal, as if there was a vast sea contained in every single one.

You really weren’t a jewelry person, yet once in a while, this kind of thing still had you indulging in daydreams. And only daydreams. It would be stupid to wear matching accessories anyways. It defeated the purpose of the whole secret relationship thing.

"In that case, I'll have this one." Jack referred to the pendant with a leaf-shaped charm. "Just one, thank you."

Eris looked bewildered, but she shrugged it off, picking up the chain and shelving the others away. It still hurt when you had to fish out all the money you had and then borrow some from Jack, but the knowledge that you could claim it all back gave a little relief to your throbbing wallet.

Jack pocketed the velvety box. "I hope it looks good with my cacti."

"Of course it will, I have immaculate taste." You wiped the tip of your nose with your thumb. 

Time flew past without a sound. You'd left school mid-afternoon, and now the blue sky had already been painted over with an amalgamation of warm hues. Your phone showed that it was already six. "We're kind of against the clock. Let's grab the last item and head back."

Your last stop was the local gift store, where a bunch of plushies and toys were displayed. As expected, the dolls were all related to love in all kinds of ways. There was a pink bear holding a love letter, two frogs with their hands sewn together, an elephant hugging a pillow in the shape of a heart. The only ones exempt from the influence of Valentine's Day were at the back of the shop. They were graduation plush toys and one that specifically said 'Happy Mother's Day'.

"Once again, this isn't my thing. I feel like you would be more interested…" he trailed off, spinning around to look for you. "Prefect?"

"Jack! Look at this! It's adorable!" You waved him over. In your hands were two avocado dolls, one with the seed in the middle and the other without. "Oh my goodness. And this!"

You picked up two monkeys that had their arms wrapped around each other. The fluffy fur seemed to melt away under your touch, and their hands could reach all the way around your waist. 

Truth was you'd already made something for Leona, but these monkeys? It was love at first sight. He was always complaining about your inability to stay over in his room anyways, so this could work as the perfect substitute. Even though he wasn't the type to hug plushies as he slept (it would probably end up on the floor), it would still remind you of each other. No one would even notice. It's not like people could just wander into his room. And yours–

Your dorm was basically a public area by now. There were times when Sebek and Epel invited themselves over and scared the living hell out of you because you'd left your phone inside with Leona's contact on the screen. Every time you had an impromptu sleepover, they made a competition out of stealing your plushies, except Sebek who had his own Malleus cushion. Deuce might not take note of the new plush member, but Ace was observant to a fault. You could already hear his voice yelling 'why do you have this monkey plush and where is the other one' in your ears.

"Then let's buy it." Jack said. 

You shook your head ruefully. "Ehh, maybe not. Now that I think about it, I don't really have that much space left on my bed."

"I thought you'd started invading Grim's?"

"Yea, but still." Returning the monkeys to the shelf, you turned around and started searching around again. 

If Ace was observant, then Jack was eagle-eyed, always detecting details in the most unlikely places. It wasn't difficult for him to notice where your attention had drifted off to back at the jewelry shop either. 

He cleared his throat. "So, about you and Leona. Have you decided how long the secrecy will go on for?"

You petted each plush you walked past, ruffling their heads. "Not yet. We'll see."

"Right," he turned the words over in his head, looking for a more natural approach. "But you’re both fine with the arrangement, obviously.”

“Of course.” You had to be. After all, you had your own reasons for keeping up the confidentiality, and you’d hate to be involved in any royal scandal Leona had mentioned. Even if the rules weighed on you at times, it was still better than attracting attention, right? “I think so.”

All this time you’d been walking on tip-toes believing that it could do more good than harm, but a short trip down memory lane proved otherwise: That one time you'd had to hide Leona in the closet, his legs had gotten so sore that you'd spent the whole light massaging the stiffness away. Your forehead was swollen for days after running into a tree while staying out of Rook’s watchful eyes. All those times you’d had to swallow the words you wanted to say to each other in public, a much needed embrace reduced to a pat on the shoulder.

It was supposed to get Ace and his naive accomplice off your back, but look where you were now: entangled in a web of misunderstandings, not only did it not work as intended, but you also got Jack into this predicament.

“...Back home, my brother always picks fights with my sister,” Jack started. “He’s at the age where he feels the need to act like an ass in any given situation. He’s stubborn about it too. Never apologizes to her afterwards. They could spend days ignoring each other.

Any time it happens when I’m around, I try to figure out how they feel. My sister thinks that he probably hates her, that’s why they never see eye to eye. Meanwhile he does feel sorry, but he doesn't know how to get over his ego."

"Typical siblings." 

"That's right. And then I sit them down and make them talk to each other."

"And it works?"

"Like a charm. Effective communication can pretty much solve half of the conflicts in the world, but it's hard to take the first step, especially when you don't know what the other person is thinking."

You let his words sink in, turning them over in your head. If you were to lay your heart completely bare, it would certainly be singing a different tune. Perhaps a chat would really make things better instead of pretending that nothing was out of place.

"You have a point there." It wasn't hard to grasp what he was trying to say, but if he wanted to be roundabout about it, then you weren't going to bring it to light. 

The two of you came to a stop in front of a felt box holding five keychains, a sweet rendition of a puppy family. He picked it up carefully. "Would you mind if I got this? My sister has always liked collecting keyrings like these."

"Sure. You're never beating the best big brother allegation, are you?"

A proud smile dawned on his face. "Hopefully not."

By the time you’d ticked off the very last item on the shopping list, night had already fallen. 

“I just realized something awful.” Jack said from behind. He was still holding the roses and cake, while you had the rest. “You didn’t get anything at all. I mean, the cake and the necklace, and even the recipient of this bouquet-”

“Hey, don’t worry. I was the one who ‘invited’ you to hang out, wasn’t I? It’s only fair that I treat you to something nice. Even though it’s Sam’s money. It’s the sentiment that counts.”

His face faltered for a second, then he assumed an earnest expression. “In that case, I promise to make it up to you, not just for the gifts, but also for the amazing company.”

"You're not so bad yourself, Jack."

The mirror portal was situated on a nearby hill, giving you the perfect view of the town under your feet. Streams of people weaved through the streets, the uniform structures and red roofs now adorned by pink banners and decorations. 

A strange sense of satisfaction filled your chest knowing that you’d completely defied what Ace and Deuce had planned for you guys. Although this wasn’t planned, you still had an amazing time roaming around town.

“Let’s head back now.” Jack said. You sent him a nod before stepping through the mirror together.

———

It was 7:45, and you were pacing around your room.

After returning to the campus and claiming the sweet thaumarks from Sam, Jack bid you goodbye and returned to his room trying to juggle all the rewards in his arms, earning envious glares from passing students.

That was half an hour ago. In that time you’d managed to rush back to Ramshackle, got dressed in the most formal outfit you could find in your humble wardrobe, and walked ten laps around the house trying to practice what to say to Leona when he got here. 

Hey, remember when we agreed to keep all of this under wraps? I kind of don’t want to do that anymore. Yea, the press could be after us. Yea, my friends are going to be a pain in the ass. No, I still want to go public with this. 

What if he felt that it was not worth the trouble? You trusted that he would respect your choices, but still-

Rapid knocks on the door pulled you back to reality. You all but stormed down the stairs and rushed to the foyer, swinging open the door.

There he was, clad in a simple black button down shirt and pants, his hair gathered in a high ponytail. In his left hand was a bouquet of roses, and in his right, for some reason, was his broom.

How did he even manage to look perfect in everything he wore? 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, kipenzi,” he stepped in and met you half-way with a kiss, trying to lean in for another when you pulled away. You almost forgot that you’d been anxious just a while ago. 

“Happy Valentine’s to you too, mpenzi,” The nickname never failed to make his tail swish in contentment. You beamed as he handed you the roses. The card indicated that there were 33 in total, and if your memory served you right, it symbolized ‘I love you’ with affection. 

“How was your day with Jack?”

“It was great.” You answered briefly, pulling him into the lounge by his hand.

“Just great?” 

“If you must know, we walked around town and bought tons of stuff. We decided to treat it as a friendly hangout.” 

“I see.” He said tersely, willing his jaw to unclench before you could see it.

“You/re not getting green-eyed, are you?”

“They’ve been green my whole life, sweetheart,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 

“Touche.” You headed to the sofa and picked up a huge paper bag. “Ta-da! Here’s something I made you.”

Placing his broom against the wall, he reached inside, expression shifting when he felt the soft fabric. Slowly, he pulled out the content and let it fall to the floor soundlessly.

It was a crocheted blanket big enough to roll both of you into a burrito, the pattern mimicking a chess board. The only detail you’d tweaked were the king pieces, which had been turned into two snoozing lions. 

He spent a good minute observing the blanket, as if trying to take in every single detail. Finally, he asked, “So this is why you couldn’t stay over at my room for the past two months?”

“Yea. It could’ve taken me a month, but I had no prior knowledge about crocheting, so I had to start from the ground up.”

“You could’ve just commissioned someone, you know. Would’ve saved a lot of trouble.” He said mindlessly, running his hand down the smooth yarn. 

“Maybe I should take it back then-”

“Hands off, it’s mine.” His face scrunched up, arms holding the blanket close to himself. During winter, his family had sent him more than enough blankets and duvets, all made with the most exquisite of fabrics, but this might just outshine all of them. “And it’s unique this way. So… thank you.”

If you were going to start the conversation, you reckoned that this was the perfect timing. "There's something I've been-"

"Wait a sec. I have more surprises." He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders so that only your head was uncovered and grabbed his broom. "Close your eyes."

You did as told, pulling the blanket up to shield your face. Some distance away, you heard the light switch flip. "I didn't know you had this many things planned."

It sounded like he was talking from a great height. "You didn't think I was just going to give you roses, did you?" Something cut through the air. "Though it did take me some time to figure out what to do, so you better appreciate it with all your heart."

"Roger that." You paced around in an aimless circle, listening to the faint winds trailing behind him as he flew around the lounge. For a moment you wondered if he was cleaning the place, but it was highly unlikely that he would volunteer doing so. 

"Okay," the next time he spoke, he was right in front of you. "You can look now."

The lights were out, which normally meant the room should be cloaked in darkness, but it was different today. On the roof were densely scattered glow-in-the-dark stickers piercing the dimness, mimicking stars. A few of them extended to the walls, as if the sky was melting. Some were larger in shape, others mere dots, but together, it looked like the whole galaxy had been moved inside.

Your mouth fell open as you took in the constellations spread out in front of you. There was seemingly no word that could encapsulate the feeling welling in your chest.

"I promised that I would show you the night sky of Sunset Savannah before, but the opportunity hasn't presented itself, so this will have to do." He leaned in to observe your face. "Hey. You're not crying, are you?"

"No." You croaked. Half amused and half concerned, he reached for your arm and pulled you into a tight embrace.

Being held by Leona never failed to make you feel like the most treasured person in the world. His fingers threaded in and out of your locks, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you hid your face in his shoulder. You leaned into him, so close that your hearts might as well melt into one. 

Leona Kingscholar had always shone in every room he was in, but nothing came close to the version of him only you got to see. His love came in both showers and drizzles, both intense and tender. It blew you away and made the lining of your stomach feel warm. He was the island you'd go to when you felt like drowning, the person you could call home in this scarily foreign land. Sometimes it felt like every bad thing would go away so long as he was holding your hand. 

He's undoubtedly the best thing that had ever happened to you, you thought, and you wanted to love him wildly for that. No hushed secrets, no retreating in the dark. You wanted to braid his hair and let the world see. You wanted to let him rest his head on your lap while you worked. You wanted to pass him tooth-rotting notes in class, and you wanted and wanted and wanted. You wanted to liberate all of these hopes and desires.

There was no way you could hide what you felt for him when it was brighter than all the stars in the universe combined.

"I need to talk to you about something." His voice was muffled in your hair. 

"So do I, actually." You tore yourself away, wiping the warm trails on your cheeks.

You followed him and sank onto the floor, shifting closer so you could get under the blanket together. He fixed his gaze on the chair behind you for a second, looking like he was trying to declutter his mind, before returning his attention to you. "What happened with Jack today has got me thinking about things between us."

Your breath hitched. It was like he was reading your mind.

"Most of the blame goes to your dumb friends, obviously. But I believe that some misunderstandings stemmed from us trying to keep everything a secret. And I know I said that it was troublesome to just go public and stuff, which I still agree with, but the truth is…" he ran his hand through his hair and it sprang back into place. "You're worth it. All of it. The press, the nosy halfwits in this school, my family, they are nothing compared to how much I absolutely adore you. Screw the troubles. I want to let everyone know that you're mine, and that I'm yours." A beat later, he added, "Plus, if something like this happens again, I'm not sure I can keep my cool."

He drew a deep breath. "The only question left is, what do you think?"

"I think-" you chuckled, feeling the previous nervousness dissipate. It's funny how effortless it was for you to be on the same page. "I think the absolute same! I've been pondering about how all this secrecy has been keeping us from each other, and I just despise that. Nothing is critical enough that it should be able to make me compromise my feelings..."

His grin grew wider and wider as you rambled on and on, until he had to cut you off with a kiss right there, laced with relief and unbridled joy. You couldn't help but smile into his touch, relishing in the new found solace. It was like your heart had found air again.

Under the starry sky, Leona rested his head against you, hand finding yours and giving it a small squeeze. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Oh yea, you want to make this a competition?" He quirked his brow, and before you knew it, you were going back and forth without a regard for the passing hours.

You might not have been able to spend the entire Valentines' Day with him, but you knew that there was still tomorrow and the days after that, enough for you to tell him all the ways you loved him as much as you wanted. It would always be like this– bathing in each other's presence, letting the love drape over you two like a blanket. 

Only this time, you wouldn't have to hold back anymore.

———

"Hey," Trey walked up to Cater, who was walking to and fro in the middle of the corridor. "What's this emergency you were talking about?"

"Trey! Thank the Queen of Hearts you're here." He pulled the taller man towards one of the dorm rooms, where the door was slightly ajar. A stern voice could be heard from within, though it was too faint for him to string together a coherent sentence.

"Jack asked me to let him in because he had something urgent to say to Ace and Deuce, and it looked like a storm was verging on his face so I complied," Cater moved aside, signaling Trey to take a peek. "He's been in there for a good while, and it doesn't sound like fun."

Trey let out an exasperated sigh. He'd spent the past few days baking cookies and chocolates, and he could frankly use a break. Still, as the vice dorm leader, he couldn't just turn a blind eye when the underclassmen got into trouble. Bending down, he squeezed one eye shut to get a clear view of what was going on inside.

Jack was standing in the middle of the room, arms in front of his chest, tail moving stiffly. The usual seriousness of his expression was mixed with an edge of irritation. 

On the edge of the bed sat Ace and Deuce, who were as still as twin popsicles, hands clenched on their laps and head low. Deuce looked especially guilty, like he'd just done something terrible like eating Riddle's tarts. Ace was mildly annoyed, but unable to utter a retort.

"...totally inconsiderate and disappointing behavior… the result could've been egregious!"

Trey blinked, then backed away from the door. "We'd better give them some more time. They've done something egregious ."

"Wow. That's a big word. I wonder what exactly they've done…" At Trey's disapproving squint, Cater waved his hand dismissively. "Don't look at me like that! Of course I won't use our cute first years as topics for gossip~"

The two made their ways back to their rooms then. Another thirty minutes later, Jack finally ended his speech in resignation, rendering the two culprits and frankly inadequate cupids speechless. In his deep breaths, he picked up the faint fragrance of roses lingering on his clothes, and let out a soft sigh.

Hopefully it was enough to repay all the presents you'd given him today. 

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #sie writes #leona x reader

[iznsfw]

Tutor eunbi where she rewards you increasingly everytime you get an answer correct starting from clothed groping and ending up with creampie

(inspired by a jav that uhhh... my friend saw definitely not me)

[KWON-0927] "P-please be gentle!" Busty School Tutor Whimpers Cutely As You Go Down On Her Curvy Figure After A Rough Revising And Has Her Sensitive Nipples Played With! Never Gonna Fail An Exam Again!

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi

First Part of Dulce Periculum | Next Part

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

8,131 words

Categories | tutor!Eunbi, uniform sex, rough sex, nipple play, corruption, titjob, mating press, tit play, fingering, creampie, squirting

Start of Iz*Mas! This is my EIGHTEENTH Eunbi fic. Me writing too much Eunbi.

Anyway, enjoy this :)

There's the stab of overmorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as ereyesterday. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look down into the textbook and realize there is a one-way path with this situation and it does not look safe at all. Everything goes downhill from here. There's the—

Three quick knocks pound onto your wooden door like silver rain on a rooftop. You close the textbook with jerky surprise, but you do not need to look into the eyehole to know who it is. The visitor is obviously her. It's obviously Kwon Eunbi, the smartest girl in your school.

You have requested her to help you revise for your exams, and accordingly, she comes to your home every Sunday since the start of September to do so. How you got so lucky to have such a pretty girl visiting you regularly, you'd like to say you have no idea. But you can only point to your report cards and feedback sections scribbled with dark red negativity. If the scathing words from exhausted teachers written on the back aren't enough to send the message, you will be straightforward: you aren't the brightest student.

You are quite average in other subjects, which is probably one of the two redeemable qualities about you. But English is just a ridiculous setup for failure. You do not like having people know you need help with it either, which makes your situation a bit more difficult than it already is if not for Eunbi being the sweetest girl in the world. (Besides being the prettiest.)

The fear partially washes away, like leftover combed seashells on sand. The phobia of failing has gone by a small surge, but a new one takes its place: one of Eunbi.

It's not that she's an overly strict and brutal tutor; in fact, she's as kind as a girl can get, and too pretty to be frightening anyway. But you are afraid of what you might do that can seem out of place if you want her to like you. If you want her to want you as much as you do her. It's such a stupid schoolgirl crush you have on her, yet you find no escape. Nor can you find a girl that can match the beauty she has, or a distracting enough video game to keep your mind off her.

Your heart aches with anticipation as you open the door. It is no big surprise to see that Eunbi looks beautiful. The pair of round black-rimmed glasses sits on her nose neatly, matching the color of her curled long hair. In addition to that, she is still wearing the school blouse and skirt, making her look like the perfect cute nerd in movies. It's a very usual and everyday outfit, nothing too model-ish or fashionable. But it still dumbs you down to nothing but admiration. How it wraps around her busty form and shows off her thighs oftentimes make you lose the answer to her questions even though it's on the tip of your tongue.

"Hi, oppa!" Eunbi says kindly. She is just a little younger than you, but definitely only by years. In terms of knowledge, she is way out of your league—she's miss Valedictorian, the biggest bookworm, writer of the year, and a good volleyball player. You... well, there's not much to go over.

She gives you a big hug. Emphasis on the "big." Her breasts practically push into your body and almost nudge you out of her embrace. The girl is adorably oblivious to it, only beaming with giddiness at seeing you, and hugs you tighter. Your breath sounds heavier than her giggle.

But wrap your arms around her a little too confidently. Her smooth back and taut stomach feel good under your fingertips. How much more if you were holding—

No. You can't think like that about her! She's your tutor, a completely innocent girl who doesn't deserve to be lewded by your thoughts depsite her insane body. But no matter how many times you remind yourself about it, you keep forgetting. Kind of similar to your relationship with sentences and predicaments.

But it is a different kind of forgetfulness when it's with Eunbi. Unlike the panic that grips you when you forget an essential fact while answering your test, you are blissful to delve in its ignorance. For a limited time, the world allows you to believe that she might like you. That you might have a chance with her. It's a little thing that makes you happier and sadder in the same breath, but you wear a big smile.

"Hi, Eunbi. Thanks for coming by so early!"

It's a statement free of sarcasm. You are glad to have Eunbi come by, especially when you are about to have a breakdown over English. But even with that aside, she's a beauty, and beautiful things are more than allowed in your home.

You lead her to your living room. Several of your textbooks, reviewers and fillers are already out and open on the coffee table. There is science... mathematics... history... they all make your head hurt more than any car ride could.

"Yeah, Miss Bae dismissed us early so I came here five minutes before time," she says with a giggle. But then her face suddenly loses its brightness and surges into fear. "I didn't disturb you, did I? I'm really sorry if I did! You know I could wait till you're settled!"

Oh, that cute downcast look. She is so painfully cute that you want to hug her again, and not just for the feel of her body. "No, not at all!" you say, calming her down. "I needed to work on revising early anyway. Will you help me a little more today? Maybe some extra time, too?" you add hopefully.

"Of course, it's my job! And you pay me very... abundantly." Eunbi gives you a cleverly-timed wink. "So I don't mind at all. Shall we start?"

She hands you the worksheets she has prepared. They're not too lengthy, and have her watermark: a clean red doodle of a bunny and her name in Korean. Nothing out of the ordinary. These letters in the questions aren't in Korean, though. Wait, why are they...

Oh dear God, no. It's English. English, the goddamned language you are forced to learn since everybody in the world knows it and writes it because one day, some stupid people decided to build the tallest tower in the world and made God angry. Or so you were told. But why couldn't you be the exception and go on without knowing the languages?

It's important to note that you are an overall average student. Not good enough to make the honors' list, but not bad enough to be one of the rejects sitting at lunch in the corner either. You barely pass exams, but something is still better than nothing. So, on other subjects, you lend in time to study without putting in much effort. However, this one is your weakness. While you still have hopes to pass in other subjects, the chances slim when you are put in the English spotlight.

You can never wrap your head around it. For example, why do "though," "tough," and "thorough" all have different pronunciations but are spelled nearly the same? Why does the menaing of a word or sometimes a whole sentence change your approach?

It is too broad of a language for you. You'd rather stick to the Hangeul characters you know by heart and say something in your native language. But you know Eunbi won't let that happen.

She sits there with her hands folded, patiently waiting for you to go on answering. But she notices the crease in your forehead and immediately knows what is going on; you have hit a rut, and she has to help you out of it. "Do you want me to go over some flashcards first?"

"I didn't know we were going for English first, but yeah, sure," you say, a little reluctantly. To you, flashcards are just the same as worksheets: difficult and senseless. So you do not understand why she thinks this will help. But hey, you're the student, she is the tutor slash teacher slash cutie. You have to trust her to do her thing well.

"Okay!" says Eunbi cheerfully. She brushes back long strands of curls behind her ear with another hand as she picks up a deck of cards with the other. She remains optimistic and bright-eyed throughout the first minutes of the session, even if you are the opposite. "What is a verb, and what does it do?"

The honey-colored card that invades your line of vision is hard to scrutinize. It is a basic question, really. But not for you, for in that second, every bit of the little knowledge you have about a verb dissolves to nothingness. Verb... verb... what the fuck is a verb?

You are stuck with nothing but a slacked jaw and an empty mouth. Even a third grader can answer this, so why can't you?

You look back at Eunbi with troubled eyes while her brown ones remain cheerful. Never lose your spark, little one. "Uhhh, I think—fuck, can I get a clue?"

"Haaah, oppa-ya!"

The little one has lost her spark. Your ignorance extinguished its heat. Eunbi bumps your shoulder with the force of both mock and real frustration. "There aren't gonna be any clues in the exam, y'know?" she scolds you. "You can't just go up and ask the teacher for a hint!"

You feel a little bad now. Your mind's habitual way of letting important pieces of knowledge slip from its grasp makes Eunbi feel bad, too. Because of it, she begins to doubt her own teaching ability. Is she not patient enough? Did she not choose the questions properly? All those things run in that pretty head of hers now that you have immediately failed to answer.

But it truly isn't her fault. She spends nights printing out your worksheets and reviewing your subjects beforehand, always trying to add a sweet touch to them with a scribble of encouragement on the margins. And you... you are just mind-numbingly forgetful and lazy. None of it is her doing.

But you want to answer the flashcard question with a little bit of help. At least just a tiny bit of help.

"But it's just a tutoring session right now, isn't it?" you reason with her. Look through those brown eyes and attempt to find a hint of patience she can use for you. It is only barely less than the forgiving glimmer that is there on the usual. "Just one hint can do."

You are desperate for it. They are not always helpful, but they do give you time to reflect on what you have studied. On rare occasions, they tap into long-forgotten memories of your other sessions with Eunbi. Sometimes they are about studying, sometimes they're about the little talks you have with her that aren't study-related. There's the right keyword sometimes to put two and two together. Only sometimes, but right now, all you have around that can be of assistance is a hint.

Eunbi is not dumb. She sees through your reasoning and understands why it makes sense. So, being the kind girl she is, she relents. You have the heavens and her parents to credit for making her so forgiving.

"Fine," she says sullenly. She looks adorable; her full lips are pulled downwards in a pout, paired with her spectacles. She looks like the perfect nerdy girlfriend. Oh, if only... "But if you still give no answer or a wrong one after this, we're going to review again. Do we have a deal?"

"I promise we do, Eunbi. With all my heart."

"Good oppa!" says Eunbi cheerfully, back to her normal self. "Here's the hint: it's what you, um, do. In that sense of the word."

Realization hits you, only by a little jab. "Oh! I think that's—um..."

"You just said a verb! Come on, you can do this!"

Then it hits you with unsure slap, as if it were doubtful that it hit the right victim. "The, the action that the subject of the sentence does—?"

"Ding, ding, ding! Yes, you got it!"

Eunbi claps happily, hugging you again. You are blissful, too. Maybe there is a chance of you succeeding after all. Maybe the path isn't so foggy.

"Do I get a prize for getting the correct answer?" you ask with much anticipation. Eunbi always has little treats for you to go by. After a particularly difficult mathematics session, she went with you to the café for a milkshake. Sometimes you would go out for a quick snack. But honestly, you'd take anything, just as long as she stays by your side.

But the Eunbi by your side currently does not look so sure of herself. You can identify well the look on her face because you wear it all the time: an expression of curiosity. You wonder what had gone on behind the scenes for her to look so insecure.

Her index fingers meet and part repeatedly as she gazes at you. Her eyes tell a story you cannot piece apart, but you can get the mood of it: a strange wistfulness left unattended to.

"It's all up to you, actually," she says, quietly, "and I just want to know what it feels like when it's from you. Just that."

"What do you mean, Eunbi?" you ask, with more confusion than ever.

"F-for your prize, you can touch my, um, chest."

"Huh? What happened, is your heart beating weird?"

"No, oppa, I want you to touch my breasts, pleaseee!"

She spurts out the statement with frustration and embarrassment. Eunbi's cheeks have grown bright red, and they only tone up when your hands start to fidget. You may have a hesitant mind of your own, but your hands have known what they wanted to do since the day Eunbi dropped that pencil and accidentally flashed you more than an eyeful. Ever since your eyes took in the beautiful yet limited sight of her breasts, you realized that there is more to Eunbi than a cute girl. And all the time, you thought that she didn't know of her own danger. You ignorantly thought that she is simply too young and innocent to find it out for herself, but she must have seen your provoked expression that day.

"Eunbi...?"

"Look." Eunbi pouts at you and unbuttons the first few buttons of her blouse. The two hills—no, mountains—of flowing cleavage rises into your view. "Does oppa want his prize or not?"

"Of, of course I do."

Tentatively wrap your deft fingers around Eunbi's tit. It feels even better than you imagined. Even with the partial cloth blocking you from its full glorious nakedness, its softness remains. You can feel her nipple harden under your thumb as you continue to squeeze her.

It is a new feeling to Eunbi, having a foreign hand touch where she is second most sensitive. Especially since she has not done any of this sex thing besides touching herself. And even the orgasms that had her whimpering and rocking against her pillow with desperation cannot compare to your fingers groping her.

"Mmm, oppa, that feels good." Her eyes close with all the pleasure you give to the softness of her heavy breasts. "So good... getting touched by you like this."

"Fuck, Eunbi"—your body inches closer to her busty figure, eager to press against its form—"I want to—"

"No, s-stop, we aren't done with reviewing yet!" Her weak voice sounds as if she is trying to convince herself rather than tell you off. With a reluctant look on her pretty face, she positions herself on the sofa normally, trying to proceed. "Don't be so greedy, oppa-ya."

"Seems like you're greedier than me, Eunbi. You were whining like a puppy," you counter her insult. While you understand that she still needs to go on with her job as a tutor, she does not need to pretend that her heart is burning with desire, too. Literally.

Eunbi crosses one thick thigh over the other and shakes her head with clear denial. "No, I'm not! I just... wanted to know what it feels like," she now confesses with a sullen look. "And, and I know you wanted to touch me for the longest time."

Longest time? Does she mean that she figured you out that day, too? Kwon Eunbi is not as oblivious as you originally deduced. She may be sweet and cute, yet she is undeniably intelligent. You might have not said anything verbally about it at the time, but it turns out that she read you like a book.

Eunbi hides her face behind your English textbook like a shy bunny, leaving only her eyes for you to see. "I thought that it would be nice if I let you, because you're really cute, oppa! And it can be motivation, right?"

"Smart girl, Eunbi-ya," you praise her. Her cheeks glow red. She hides her face behind the book even more.

But your cheeks are beet red, too. Did Kwon Eunbi—the Kwon Eunbi, straight-A student and the campus crush—just call you cute? How long has she thought that about you?

The tables have been turned and your back was, too. You were the unmindful one all along.

You are struck by how dumb you are. It's not like it isn't already a usual factor in your life, but you don't miss things like this. You can tell how someone feels right off the bat with just a look. You pride yourself with your certainty of the state of everything. But even when it's already outside of academic fields, she's bested you. Again.

Just how smart is Eunbi? You have never underestimated her intelligence. It is hard to when she is always on top of the honors' list and the first to announce that she's finished with the exams. But now you realize she notices little things, too, just like you.

A silence passes over the living room for a few seconds, but Eunbi proceeds to the next question anyway. The two of you are blushing too hard and are just eager to move on.

"Second question," says Eunbi, shoving a card in your face, "it is defined by Oxford Languages as 'a word or phrase naming an attribute, added to or grammatically related to a noun to modify or describe it.'"

You appreciate the sources from which she gathered the fancy definition, but the elaborate meaning just makes your head hurt. Why stretch a simple definition out to such flowery words? One particular keyword rings a bell, though.

"An adjective," you answer confidently.

"Yes! Give three examples."

"'Pretty,' 'small,' and 'smart.'"

Eunbi blushes then nods approvingly. She knows all those adjectives were about her since you keep giving her pointed glances as you list them. She flips the flashcard to show that you got the right answer.

"You're getting better at this!" she says happily. "Your next prize is you can touch my legs."

Eunbi does not wait for you to accept her prize. She swings both of her legs over your lap, pressing them firmly to your thighs. Just when you thought Eunbi could not get more dangerous, she has showed you up again. The skirt barely hides the roundness of her thick thighs, nor does it hide the shorts that hug them so tightly.

You do not hesitate this time. If Eunbi wants this, then you should give in. Your hand graces the toned muscles on her thighs, formed by her days as a varsity volleyball player, and runs down the rest of her smooth legs. They feel almost as good as her tits, although the only thing that can outdo them is her face. That pretty, pretty face that reacts almost instantly with parted lips and closed eyes. You watch her responses to your caresses with a few pants of your own; seeing her orgasmic reactions is a thing straight out of a JAV porn.

Her center moves against your thigh demandingly. You take that as a signal. Slip your hands underneath her skirt and feel for—

"Hah, no, no, no!" Eunbi's gasps sound like they're wrung out of breathless lungs. "We still have more questions... and the worksheets—mmmm!"

Part of being a good tutor is to have the high ground, but not make it seem like it. But Eunbi is slowly losing the upper hand, all because of your fingers brushing over the center of her underskirt shorts and feeling for the insides of her thighs. She tries to be a good tutor. She tries with all the strength she has in her little body, but they cannot fight against your lingering touch. Nor can they resist the prods of your fingertips at what you think is her clitoris. You might be right; a sharper whine is heard from her.

"Noooo, why does it have to feel so good?" Eunbi whispers. She tugs at your shirt, burying her head in the nook of your shoulder. "Please, oppa, you have to answer some questions still..."

"Oh, fine," you reply with a kiss on her hair. "What's the next question, Eunbi?"

Her free hand shuffles the flashcards. "A word that represents persons, concepts, things, and places. Answer this right and you'll get a bigger prize."

Suddenly, you become the best student there ever was in English. You remember almost everything you and Eunbi have gone over during your sessions. It turns out that all you needed is the promise of Eunbi's body. The promise of the freedom to do everything good to that body that is just begging and pleading to be fucked thoroughly.

"A noun," you answer.

"Correct! You can put them inside me now!"

Swift and ready, your fingers travel through the sides of Eunbi's underwear and shorts and take pleasure in their destination: her hot, tight cunt. When your two fingers enter her, she practically screams. The virginal clamp of her walls is hard to navigate, but they are only a foretold joy for another part of your body. So you truly don't mind spreading your fingers and parting them. They bring another pro: Eunbi's helpless whines.

"Kiss me," she demands. "Kiss Eunbi, please. Kiss her neck."

Your lips arrive at her full tiers, only for a moment for they line down her cheeks, jaw, and neck. Her scent invades and controls your senses. She cries out needily, and she's honestly evil for it. So completely evil for enunciating her sounds with such desire and submissiveness, even if you're sure it's completely unintentional. But you fall victim to her anyway. You bury your face in her hair and kiss her hard, like you've always wanted to.

That's probably as true as the illustrious tits heaving up and down before you.

She's quite inexperienced, and it shows with the quiver of her form with every kiss you place, in addition to her constant whines, as if she weren't oriented originally to the feeling of being penetrated by your diligent fingers. But she wants it. She wants more of you playing with her body, yet she's hesitant, too. Should she abandon her job as a tutor and instead become your fucktoy for the hour? Or should she return to the former Eunbi—the Eunbi who smiles and claps for her oppa because he asked for her help?

"Come on, oppa. I have to, hmph, read another question. Please let me."

The good Eunbi still lives on. You're so impressed by it that your next kiss is one of tenderness rather than lust. "Good girl, Eunbi. Go on."

Her fingers grasp at the flashcards desperately, trying to keep them visible. "It is the topic of a s-sentence, and can usually found at the beginning or end of the sentence," she reads. There's a pleading glint in her eyes, and they send you a message: Answer this correctly, I need you.

You thumb her clit firmly, causing her to buck against it. It's a sign of her upcoming orgasm, and you are surprised that it will arive earlier than expected. But Eunbi hasn't been touched like this other than by herself. She's new to all this, you have to let her off the hook.

Rack your mind for the answer while Eunbi whimpers at your ever-so-constant thrusts. As you consider the possible answers that present themselves in your mind, she whispers pleads for more. Her thighs squeeze around your arm, telling you to keep going, even though your arm aches. You needed the exercise anyway.

"P-parallelism?" you say dumbly.

"No!" Eunbi shakes her head. "Now you have to stop, oppa. You answered incorrect—no, please, please slow down!"

Frustration wrecks your senses and sends your fingers furiously jabbing in the direction of Eunbi's slit. They do more than just jab. They dive into her and wiggle in order for the tiny hole to allow them in. Eunbi sobs as your kisses get harder, not knowing what to do when the orgasm rips through her body. How can she handle all this?!

You're being too rough. You know you are, yet you keep pistoning your digits inside her like it's an addiction of yours that you simply can't let go of. The sounds of her pussy slick with wetness and juices intoxicate you and send your impulsive actions into a flurry. Meanwhile, Eunbi's screams are becoming more and more concerning.

"No, it's not your prize anymore! It's too much, you have to slow down!" All those words yet she moves in accordance with your actions, giving you mixed signals. "I want more, oppa, but I have to be a good tutor!"

"The only good you're going to be is my good little girl," you declare. Teeth capture her earlobe then her neck. "And my good girl is about to cum, isn't she?"

Eunbi blushes at your words. She nods. She can tell from the way the heat is becoming borderline unbearable. It's dangerous, it's hot, and most importantly, it's wrong. She shouldn't have offered her body as your prize in the first place. She should have yielded to the temptation and resisted her lust. But they are all would've-could've-should'ves now. Eunbi is trapped in you.

She isn't sure if she wants to find a way out.

"Then cum for me. Cum for oppa, be good for him."

Her tummy is becoming too tight. She's scared, she's turned on, and she is very very close. "But oppaaa! I can't!" she sobs. "I can't, it's too hot, I can't I can't I can't—!"

She says she cannot, yet the stream of liquid sprays on your hands anyway. Eunbi's legs flail and spread, allowing you to furiously pump her core to climax. She screams the whole time, blinded by pleasure along with the heat. It pushes her nipples to erection and her toes to curl tightly.

You could have cum on the spot just from watching her cum. The climax electrifies her being and makes her shake from it. You never thought you could ever see Eunbi cum. The world is funny like that, bringing out the unexpected and hiding them once it becomes the opposite. You thought that her climax would be accompanied by quiet pleads. Instead, she cums hardly and violently. Her core holds onto your fingers and her clit twitches with need.

The flashcards have long dropped on her skirt. The worksheets are stained and wet from her squirt. It's all greatly unprofessional and low. But to you, she's still a good tutor. Still your good girl.

"You okay, Eunbi?" you ask softly. "Are you alright, sweet girl?"

She's shuddering like she's cold. Anyone would have offered her a jacket. You, however, offer her a kiss.

"I'm okay," Eunbi says, both to calm your fears of having hurt her and herself. Her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs slightly open to let out heavy pants. "Eunbi's okay."

"Glad to hear that," you say with a relieved smile. She smiles back tiredly. "Still up to tutor me after this?"

She nods. Of course she is. She is yours now, after all, although the two of you haven't been able to grasp at saying it out loud yet.

"Any last questions?"

"Yes, of course."

Eunbi lies back into your chest with a sigh of exhaustion. It's the happy kind of tiredness though. It was quite the surreal experience. In just a matter of minutes and only with your finger, she saw stars and still needs to be brought back down to earth.

Her whole body is numb. She needs to feel something. "The answer was noun, by the way."

"I thought so."

"Sure you did. What's a pronoun?"

That, you know. It's easy to remember since they are used so often. "Words used to substitute for names and things so they don't get repetitive. Examples are 'it,' 'she,' 'him,' and so on."

"Correct! Your prize is this!"

Her fingers stretch the garter of her shorts, and let its material fall to the floor. Her underwear follows shortly after. Your dazed eyes follow each slip and descent with longing. Then you realize that you don't have to long and wish for it like you did all those days ago. You can actually have it. She wants you to have it, and that fact alone makes it all the more exciting.

The storm of lust takes her down. She crashes on the sofa of your living room. You splay her legs apart to prepare her for the second taking. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she watches you fish out your erection, which already leaks with desire.

Then she looks up at you.

Kwon Eunbi looks up at you with bewildered eyes, with her legs spread apart and the skirt unable to do even the slightest bit of covering up. Her tits look even bigger from this angle, because they're squished up behind her black bra and by the blouse.

But most importantly, there's her pretty pussy to admire.

And to savage.

All she tells you before it happens is one, simple request:

"P-please be gentle."

You, however, do not reply. You can't make promises you can't keep.

After that, only obscene sounds come spilling out of the valedictorian's mouth. And it's all because of your dick rushing into her hugging walls, forcing them apart. Eunbi cries out, grabbing for anything to keep her sane, yet her fingers only discover the pillows of your sofa. They aren't strong enough to be immune to the dig of her fingernails in them, nor are they soft enough for there to be any comfort for her panicked hands. So she uses her thighs as substitute. She holds her legs and pulls them whenever the pain returns again, somehow unknowingly putting herself in a mating press position.

Her narrow textured walls embrace your cock with unyielding tightness. You were so unprepared for it that you have to calm yourself down before thrusting again. But how can you calm down at all with Eunbi's face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain, and her legs up in the air like that? Not to mention her round tits peeking through the unbuttoned fabric of her blouse?

"S-so big! Oh!" Eunbi flinches as you fire a harder thrust. Your cockhead pokes places even her long, pretty fingers can't reach. She feels so worked up, so utterly vulnerable that her eyes begin to water with tears behind her spectacles. "Please be gentle with me, oppa, you're too big!" she pleads once more. But it isn't the only beg she's going to ask of you this afternoon.

Consider being gentle. Consider engaging in loving, soft vanilla sex with her. But your cock says otherwise. It wants to dive into her with every bit of mercilessness you have, and corrupt this pretty little tutor more. And you are not one to withhold anything from what your cock desires.

But you settle for slow but hard drills first. Eunbi hums, full lips pursed as she tries to take the width and girth of your dick. Her senses still run high because she has just experienced an orgasm from you fingering her, so it's difficult to go through it all without sobbing a little. She's never felt this turned on before, and she is becoming a bit overwhelmed.

"Show me your tits, Eunbi," you ask of her. It's more of a demand, really. Their bounces are limited by the containment of them by her bra, and if you were to give in completely to your desires, you'd rip it straight off. But you want to see her take it off by herself. You've wanted to for as long as you can remember.

Slow down to let her take it off. It's a white lace bra, obviously a little too old and small for her since its clasps let go easily. Her heavy breasts spill from the soft cups and into your line of view.

If you were to use adjectives for Eunbi's bosom, you'd use three: round, soft, and pretty. Their areolas and nipples are pink, erect because of the arousal and the air. They begin to bounce repeatedly now that they are free from their fabric prison. You couldn't be more intrigued with their rising and falling movements. They are far more interesting than the rising and falling action of any stupid classic your English teacher requires you to read.

They drive you to strengthen the force of your pounds. Eunbi wails again. "Oppa!" she says. "Oppa, just let me ask you another question!"

"Ask it while I'm fucking you," you reply.

Her voice strains and cracks as she tries to speak. "What is a... p-predicament, and—oh, god!"

This is the only test Eunbi will ever fail. She cries because of the rough assault your cock offers to her virgin pussy, yet her walls still embrace it demandingly. They never cease with their squeeze, so she can do nothing but want to be subjected to your using even more. She wants you. She wants you to make her cum.

But being a tutor comes first.

"Oppa, please make me ask a question!"

The heave of your hips take a while before they get the message. You force yourself to a stop. God damn it, you were already so close. Screw school for cockblocking you.

Eunbi is both relieved and disappointed that you stopped. The tears that watered in her eyes have slid down her pale cheeks while the juices from her well-fucked pussy drip down the sofa like a waterfall. You've taken her so roughly that there are red marks of your hands on her legs. You feel a little sorry that you've treated such a sweet girl so harshly; she looks so spent. And to think that this is only her first time!

"I—I need to catch my breath," she says. Her eyes close while her mouth performs the opposite. It inhales sharp draws of breath that make her breasts heave and fall. You feel the slightest tinge of guilt that despite the rough session and the break the two of you are taking, you are still utterly turned on.

Lucky for you, there's only better things to look forward to in the hour.

"You were so big inside me, oppa," she moans. "I thought that I couldn't handle it... but I liked it so much."

Recall your earlier line and state it: "I thought so."

"I still have another question or two," she says.

"Hit me."

"Give three kinds of adverbs."

"Adverbs of time.... uh, place? And manner?"

"Correct. You've earned a tit...." Eunbi struggles to say it without getting flustered. "I'll just show you."

One gentle push from Eunbi and you're the one on the sofa now. Buttons are released and undone, and her two breasts wrap your length with its loving softness. It takes time for you to realize what is going on. So it hits you a little later to realize that Kwon Eunbi, your pretty little tutor, is giving you a titjob.

Where did she learn all of this? That she answers right after the thought touches on your mind.

"Does it feel good?" she asks nervously. "I tried to watch some, um, videos of it, but it always seemed so hard."

She moves her breasts up and down, trapping them in the jail that is the soft flesh squeezing your appendage and stimulating your senses. Her tits love the sensation, too, especially when Eunbu's fingers tap on her all-too-sensitive nipples. Whenever that happens, she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, in a feeble attempt to calm her thoughts.

"You're doing great, Eunbi," you groan out. More than great, in fact. Her bosom does most of the work, but her expressions contribute to your wants and needs as well. Those watery puppy eyes and the stretched frown of her lips make you want to fuck her mouth. See how much she can take and how much she can cry.

Next time.

Claustrophobia never overtakes your cock. They enjoy the pillowy closeness of the tiniest spaces of Eunbi's boobs. Eunbi looks on with utter fascination. She has never done this before, and never even thought that this was a thing. So she's a little surprised at how easy it is, and how good it feels for you. The breathy groans you make as you slide in and out of her voluptuous chest make her core wet with need.

You get off more easily and earlier than you expected. Just a few more upwards thrusts and you've ejaculated all over her. Eunbi gasps surprisedly at the sticky white substance that sprayed so suddenly. There's spurts on her collarbone, chin, and bosom. She looks so satisfyingly dirty that your guilt for arriving earlier almost completely washes away.

Her eyes connect to your tired gaze. Then, she fingers the wet semen and circles them on her nipples. She bites her lip, whimpering a little, but starts to tweak her nipples to deliver shudders of pleasure throughout her body. A drop of cum is swallowed from her finger.

"Eunbi-ya..." You're more than take aback. In a good way. "When did you get so dirty?"

"I had Sakuchan teach me." Her eyes close as she remembers what Sakura did to her. "She was a good tutor."

Sakura? Does she mean Miyawaki Sakura, the girl who wins a lot of the pageants at school? Oh. Well, the two of them do seem particularly close...

"Oppa."

You dash a look towards Eunbi inquisitively. "Yeah?" you ask. You can't believe her glasses have managed to stay on despite the rough fucking.

"I have one last question for you."

"And what might that be?"

Eunbi places her arms on your lap and rests her chin on one of them, tilting her head to the side. "Do you promise to treat me like your good girl?"

She's a seductive force to be reckoned with, one that was more of what she was born with rather than was taught. She climbs onto your lap like she has always known she's fit for it, and cages your sides with her beautiful legs. Her skirt lies on her thighs, a curtain disguising what is yet to come, while her hands drape themselves over your shoulders. They squeeze your tense muscles, yet your form never relaxes. Your body is too caught up with the lack of oxygen.

There she goes again with that pout. Downward tugs at the end of her plump lips, eyes glossy with the ghost of an innocence long gone. The specs allow her to see your hesitant face, so she spices the deal up.

"Do you promise," Eunbi says, "to make this memorable for me? Make it a good first time?"

Jesus, what was Sakura teaching her?

"Of course, Eunbi," is your answer. And apparently, the correct one. The only answer she'd take.

"Correct. For that, you can fill me up."

She has made plenty of requests over the time of the session: requests for you to go easy, to answer her questions correctly... too many to count. The word is starting to sound made up. But your head is only filled with thoughts of fucking her senseless.

Oh, you'll make it memorable for her, alright.

The tension breaks. You go wild, now that this second session won't be interrupted by academic questions. Those stupid questions that shouldn't dictate your worth, nor your future. Your job isn't going to ask you what time fucking Shakespeare was born. So why should you have to spend eternal hours studying for a test paper you're going to fail anyway? Why should you?

But surely there is no reason why you shouldn't fuck Eunbi. There is no reason why you shouldn't insert yourself inside the hole between those slick folds, see the pleasure run through her gorgeous face, and watch those exposed tits bounce. There is no reason for you not to grab her body and trap her against the sofa and take her pussy from between her widespread legs.

So you do it.

Switch positions. Grab Eunbi's shapely hips and turn around swiftly, pinning her down to the sofa. Swiftly enter her quivering form. She's still so hot and tight, you think, with a groan that mixes with Eunbi's moans.

Your brisk actions make her tense around you. She isn't sure if she is going to be able to take it again. Your erection still remains as large as ever. It penetrates her inexperienced body so well that she doesn't think she'll want any other dick to take her this way, even if she's only received one all this time: yours.

Her moans return. From there, you cannot hold back. You pound into Eunbi with gusto. She yelps everytime, squirming to make herself comfortable in this position and to bring herself closer to your cock. Not that it's leaving anytime soon; only a few inches exit with your in-and-out thrusts, driving your leaking mushroom head repeatedly to her cervix. Her cries are as constant as your drills.

You fight against the narrowness of her walls. You thrust in her with the intention to fuck her so good that you make them memorize the shape and length of your dick. Eunbi's tightness isn't a problem, though; it's easier to rub the texture of her walls this way. Easier to make her scream.

Her cum-covered tits now bounce freely. They've been released from the confinement of her bra and buttons earlier, so you are offered the pretty viee of them jiggling as you knock Eunbi up. Semen covers their nipples. It drips down to her toned stomach. You've been put in such a sex-crazed trance by them that it almost steals your attention away from her pleasured face.

Lopsided glasses remain before Eunbi's wide, fluttering eyes. You are using her thighs to pull yourself to her, and to spread them to allow more heavenly access. Her skirt has flown up to her taut tummy. She is such a mess for your cock in every way, yet you still find yourself wildly attracted to her. She's perfect, from her moans to her squirms, her whines and her cries.

"D-don't stop!" Eunbi tells you. There's no "please" attached to the starts or ends of her requests anymore. Her politeness has melted away. Its loss has allowed her to show that her screamed statement isn't a request. No, she's demanding that your thrusts don't falter nor pause. She's demanding for every might you have in your body to be delivered to her in the form of your pumping. "Make me cum, oppa! Make me... hngmph!"

You rub her wet pearl with your thumb, meriting a delightful pursed moan from her. You start to give it harsh and forced flicks. Eunbi responds with several gasped groans that sound higher than before. They're followed by raspier moans, which you didn't expect to love hearing from her. Her screams are better, though, you'd say.

Her celestial form writhes and shifts in its position on your sofa. Eunbi cries out everytime you swipe at her clit again, or throw a spank at her ass, which you only discover now is as equally deserving of appreciation as her tits or face. Every inch of her is perfect. Every inch of her deserves to be loved.

That is precisely why your hands touch everything. You lean over to take one of those pretty nipples in between your fingers and give it a firm squeeze. She sighs delightfully. After kissing her lips and taking in their strawberry bubblegum-like taste, you decide that it is time.

Grab her legs firmly, push them together, then shove them up in the air. Your stomach slaps the curves of her thighs while your dick joins her cervix once more. Eunbi's skirt has no purpose now. At least, not any purpose that is enough to hide her naked obscenity. But you care more for the yells that wickedly corrupt your heart that come from Eunbi's gorgeous set of lips—

For the panicked shake of her legs as your pounds obtain maximum strength—

For the severe cry she makes while her hands yearn and play with her breasts beautifully covered with your semen—

For the look of uncaged wildness in Eunbi's eyes; the one you recognize as the result of a freshly-broken innocence—

—are too much.

"Cum, cum— cumming!" she shrieks. Her whole body spasms and quakes, and you begin to have difficulties keeping her legs, which have been used even in the timespan of half an hour or so to spread for you, in the mating press position. "Oppa, slow down, slow down, can't keep—Ican'tkeepcumm—haaaaah!"

Paint the insides of the little slit with white while Eunbi renders the sofa fabric torn. Tears run down her cheeks. Her fingers, betwixt the red sofa blanket, have gone numb. Breathing becomes a chore; you're still going and going, draining yourself inside her to make the most out of it all.

Then, finally, slide yourself out. Eunbi's pussy has successfully been ejaculated on, just like her breasts and chest. You pray that the next time you find yourself inside her heavenly cunt, one of her name is already "mine."

Nervously, tentatively, lay Eunbi's legs down. Smooth her skirt back down on the pillows that are her thighs. The slightest whine escapes her mouth derived from the soreness. It's her first time, after all—it isn't going to be fine after just a few seconds.

————

"So, uh...." Strangely, you're the one asking the questions. now. Trading places with her, putting yourself in her shoes. Gaze at the exhausted Eunbi on the sofa and the anxiety returns to you. "You want anything? Frozen peas, a blanket, anything?"

"Thank you, but don't try to fool me," says Eunbi, smiling tiredly at what she thinks is your not-so-subtle way of trying to outrun responsibility. Unfortunately for you, responsibility can run nine marathons with the speed of twenty-seven horses.

She tries to spread her legs, but flinches when the pain hits. "You still have a test on T-Tuesday, remember?"

Of course. But you smile anyway. "I'm guessing you don't want another go then?"

A hopeful look passes over her eyes. "Do you still like me?"

Heart thumping against your throat, nod. "Yeah. A lot."

Eunbi nods understandingly. She asks another question that you are surprisingly ready for. "Are you still going to keep me stretched and filled up?"

"Of course. I'm still your oppa, aren't I?"

"And I suppose," Eunbi says quietly, as she looks down a little sullenly, "I'm still your tutor."

Understanding passes between the two of you, without words nor signs. You two dodge glances and avoid dialogue, and you're once again a little scared. You may have fucked Eunbi senselessly and impulsively, but you still have a massive crush on her. Has the sex ruined any chances of a relationship with her?

There's the stab of tomorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as today. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look sideways at Eunbi and realize there is a two-way path with this situation and it does not look easy at all. Everything can go up or downhill from here. There's the phobia making your hands tingle, the shortness of your breath, the sweat on your face.

But there's also Eunbi's head on your shoulder, and her hands sliding into the comfort of yours. And although you still fear the depth the pierce of the future's claws can probe, the monster to whom they belong to doesn't seem so scary at all.

#kpop smut #kpop #smut #izone #izone smut #kwon eunbi #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi #eunbi smut #izone eunbi #izone eunbi smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #request #iz days of christmas #iz days of christmas day 1

[avis-writeshq]

DETENTION — Damian Wayne 

inspired by ‘detention’ by melanie martinez

a/n: HELLAUURRR!! returning with a damian wayne fic, how typical of me hehehe >:D i actually wrote + worked on this fic for a while now, maybe two months ago? so i'm glad i've been able to post it!! i haven't edited it that much aside from the times i had to reread it to continue writing, so if there are any issues, lmk!!

tw: guns, stalking, kidnapping, s3xual assault, blood, psychopathic tendencies (not by reader or damian), arson, prayer talk, if there’s more lmk!

rating: 16+ for mature themes, coarse language, and mutual pining

wc: 6k

“Morning, Damian!” You smile, waving in greeting as you fell into step beside him. “Did you finish the maths homework?”

He nods, muttering a quiet greeting before fishing his exercise book out of his bag. “Of course I did.” He relishes in the way your eyes lit up as you grabbed the exercise book, quickly turning to the current chapter you were on. “How are you never able to do your homework on time but–”

“– But you’re the one protecting Gotham, yes, Damian, I know.” You roll your eyes as you finish his sentence, having heard the ‘lecture’ one too many times. “I was busy providing sanctum to the sad citizens of Gotham through cheese, garlic, and tomato.”

Damian was well aware of your job at Maria Pizzaria, one of the best pizza places in all of Gotham, and he was happy that you were enjoying your job — even if it did mean you couldn’t do any of your homework for the next day.  

“Alright, hurry up and finish your homework,” he says, chuckling at your frantic scribbling. “What time did you sleep last night, anyway?”

You groan, not ceasing your writing as you respond, “you don’t want to know. Ms Sanders decided to give me a one-thousand-word essay to complete, so estimate on that.”

Silence settles between you for a few moments before you snapped the books closed with a grin. “... and done! Thanks, Damian, you’re a lifesaver – literally. Oh! Did you hear about the new student? Her name’s Lilith, I think. I’m surprised you didn’t tell me about it earlier.”

Strangely enough, the name didn’t seem to ring any bells in his head. Maybe this student was incredibly new, but it’s weird that he hasn’t heard about it from his role as vice president. 

“I actually wasn’t told about any new students,” Damian remarks as the two of you enter the classroom. 

“That’s… weird.” Your brows furrow in confusion. “Did you turn up to all the meetings? Read all the emails?”

“Who do you take me for, of course, I did,” he huffed, taking his usual seat beside you in the centre of the class. “I never heard anything about it.”

You hum, taking in his words with full confidence that he was telling the truth. If there was one thing Damian never did to you, was a lie (aside from when he hid the fact that he was Robin from you – but that was on Bruce’s call, not his). 

“Alright class, can I get your attention please!” The teacher claps their hands with a broad smile. “Everyone, we have a new student today! Lilith, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

A girl, mousey looking with dark brown hair with blonde ends, piercing brown eyes, and she looked innocent enough. Just your average high schooler. But her eyes seemed… off. It was almost like she wasn’t all there. At least, it looked like that to you. Nevertheless, you were never one to judge a book by its cover, so you quickly offered to show her around the school. 

Lilith, as the girl was named, took the offer happily, saying in her thick Maine accent, “thank you, Damian. Oh, and Y/N.” Which you thought was weird, seeing that neither of you have introduced yourselves yet, but you figured that if she talked to the student council, they must have mentioned the both of you at some point. 

“No problem!” You smile, but Damian was unmoving, his eyes narrowing at Lilith and you notice the way his jaw clenches. “Damian…” You hiss under your breath, “welcome the new student.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to nod in acknowledgment. He moved his seat so that it was almost as if the two of you were sharing a table while Lilith sat in front of you. 

“Anyway,” You turn your attention back to Lilith who was staring a bit too hard at Damian for your liking. “I can show you around the school after class. Can I see your timetable?”

“Sure,” Lilith pushes her glasses up, digging into her bag. “Here you go.”

You read through her timetable, humming and nodding at the subject choices. “I have a few classes with you! That’s good, I can show you around then as we head to class. What do you think?”

“Is Damian coming with us?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh…” you falter, trying to ignore the small stab in your heart the statement made. 

“I’ll be there,” Damian cuts in quickly, and you don’t miss the way he brushes his pinky with yours from under the table. 

You notice how her smile widens at his announcement, and you shift awkwardly in your seat. There was one thing you knew for sure – 

*** 

“I don’t like her,” you announce to Damian over the phone, “she seems sketchy.”

“What happened to ‘I never judge a book by its cover’?” Damian snorts, and you hear a page being flicked in the background. “But, I do agree.”

“Maybe she’s just nervous,” you say, more to yourself than to him as you move to sit on your bed. “I mean, she is at a new school. Maybe she just feels awkward about it.”

You can practically hear him nod as he reads his book. Today was one of the rare times he didn’t have a patrol. Instead, Dick decided to take his place, saying that ‘a kid like him needed some down time’ which, to be fair, you couldn’t deny. 

“I agree with you,” Damian says before continuing, “give her a few days though to adjust. We can see her true nature then.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” You say, eyes glancing at the digital clock that was glaring at you from your bedside table. “Sorry. You’re probably tired. You go get some sleep – you always sleep past midnight.”

“Coming from you that means nothing,” Damian remarks, and he laughs when he hears you groan in frustration. “Okay, I’m going to bed soon. I just have to change Titus’s litter box and finish the physics homework Mr Daven gave me.”

You grin at his words, “imagine taking physics. And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“Why do you think I’m taking physics?”

“Shut up.”

You hang up on the phone a few moments later, falling backwards on your bed with your back against the pillows. What you didn’t know – and who would have thought – were two brown eyes who stared into your window. 

*** 

“I didn’t know you work here.”

A familiar – albeit, annoying – voice enters your ears and you do your best not to cringe. Lilith seemed to be following you everywhere. The mall, your classes, your hangouts with Damian, and now here. At Maria Pizzaria. When you saw her at the doorway, you felt the bile in your stomach begin to rise.

This has been happening for weeks now and you doubted that it was a coincidence. Damian understood your worries, saying that he’ll do a background check on this so-called Lilith Hart-Stone. So far, nothing. He did checks on her family, on her previous schools, on her life in general and it all points to one thing: completely and utterly normal. Even still, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness you felt every time she walked into the room. Damian would do his best to reassure you every time saying that she was ‘harmless’ and that he ‘wouldn’t let her hurt you if it came to it’. 

“Aneko can you take her order, please?” 

“No problem, do you mind sending this over to table 5?”

You nod, wordlessly taking the margarita and pepperoni pizzas to the table. You feel a sinking feeling in your chest, and you really hope that this ‘bad feeling’ is just you being paranoid. 

Your shift continues, long and dragging, throughout the night until 10:30PM sharp. Grabbing your bags and leaving through the back alleyway exit, you make your way to the main street. 

“So, you really do work here.” 

You flinch, spinning around to meet eye to eye with the one and only Lilith Hart-Stone, the very person you were told not to worry about. Her hair was put into two messy space buns, and an eerie grin stretches across her face. She reminds you of someone – some anime character or something – from the way she’s dressed. It’s nothing too crazy or abnormal: just her school uniform with her skirt rolled up a few times too much so that it rests a couple of inches above her knee. Even still, she looks weird. Scary, even, and you remind yourself to be on your guard.

“What about it?” You ask offhandedly, taking a step back. Bad move.

The twisted look on her face seemed to grow, and you do everything you can to not show fear, but the look on your face must have translated what you were feeling. 

“Oh, come no, Y/N. No need to be aggressive.” She giggles, high-pitched and jarring, and it takes everything in you to not cover your ears. “Don’t worry, Y/N. It’ll only hurt for a minute.”

And before you could question it, you feel a harsh blow to the back of your head, and everything fades away into yellows, greys, and blues. The last thing you see before fully slipping into unconsciousness is the evil glint in her brown eyes as she steps toward you. 

*** 

Damian doesn’t see you the next day in school. He waits outside the school gates well into the first period, and when you don’t arrive by the second class, his stomach doesn’t settle. Lilith didn’t come to school either, he notices, and he feels the burning in his chest worsen. Something was wrong – very wrong – and he pulls his phone out to call his father. Bruce answers immediately, knowing full well that Damian never calls during school hours. 

“Father, I fear something happened to Y/N.” Damian is running now, away from the school, ignoring one of the teacher’s cries of disapproval. “It might have something to do with Lilith Hart-Stone–”

“Talking about me, are we?”

Damian spins around, his eyes meeting the sinister eyes of the girl he was just enquiring about. 

Bruce asks through the phone, “Damian, what is going on?”

But he doesn’t respond. Instead, he focuses on the girl in front of him. The mousey, innocent-looking girl who didn’t seem to pose a threat. But, of course, nothing is ever as it seems.

“What did you do to Y/N?” He demands, eyes narrowing to slits as he slips his phone into his pocket.

“I’m insulted that you’d think I’d do anything to little Y/N.” She smirks. “Not that you’re wrong.”

Damian clenches his jaw, balling his hands at his side, ready to strike. His tone is dangerous as he demands, “What did you do to her?”

“Temper, temper,” she cackles before clicking her fingers, the smirk on her face never fading.

In an instant, two men are at Damian’s side and he twists around to land a sharp punch to one of their faces, and a harsh kick to the other’s torso. The men retaliate accordingly: one aiming for Damian’s head and the other aiming for his side. ‘They’re amateurs,’ Damian scoffs to himself, jumping out of the way and landing a blow on one of their necks, effectively knocking him out. The other man was not happy over the fact that a kid – even if he is almost 18 – knocked his partner out in the time span of five minutes, and aimed for another blow to Damian’s head. But Damian was quicker, and smarter, too. He grips the man’s fat wrist, pulling him down and socking him in the nose. 

Easy. Too easy. Something was amiss. Then he feels it. He swings around, just in time to dodge another attempted blow to his head, but not in time to dodge the knee that hit his stomach. 

Damian chokes, falling back on impact, his school bag as a cushion. The one who hit him in the stomach takes a hold of Damian’s collar, punching him across the face (finally landing the blow), before pinning him to the floor, face first, while another man pins his legs to the ground. There’s no escape. 

Lilith fishes his phone from his pocket, eyes flashing with excitement. Bruce, on the other end, is chanting, “Damian? Damian?” To which she responds with pure malice:

“Damian is a little busy right now. This is Lilith, by the way, but I’ll call you back soon. See you, Batsy!” She hangs up. 

“What do you want?” Damian asks from the floor, cheek scraping against the gravel with each word. “Unhand me!”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands, little bird,” Lilith squeals at her own words before nodding to the men. “You know what to do.”

Damian feels the pressure on his legs leave, and the man who gripped his collar lifts him one more time, and he takes in the smell of chemicals on cloth.

***

The cold air whips Damian’s face as he awakes, his eyes blinking as they adjust to the bright city lights. It is dark now – around 7, Damian figures – and the bright city lights flash in his view. Lilith stands over him, grinning ear to ear. It is only then that he realises the situation he is currently in: wrists chained to a pole on the roof of some skyscraper, and you sat in front of him, seeming to be in the same position.

“So the little bird finally decided to wake up after all.” She shrieks with delight as his eyes open. 

Damian grits his teeth as he fights against the metal chains. “What are you trying to do?”

Lilith hums sadistically, playing around with the gun in her hands. “You know what? I’ll amuse you. I’m doing it because I’m in love with you.”

Her words make him sick. His stomach churns and he tries not to gag. She thought that he’d be in love with her too? After all the stunts she’s pulled? What kind of person did she think he is?

“I know, I know… ‘I don’t even know you’ and all that.” She rolls her eyes, flicking her dyed hair over her shoulder. “But what you don’t know, my love, is that I know plenty about you – everything – about you. I know what time you go to sleep, what your hobbies are, how many pets you have, all your brothers, and where you came from. I know the exact route you take to get home, I know your favourite food, your secrets, everything.”

She lets out an almost sad sigh as she says, “I just don’t know how you feel.”

“That’s an oxymoron,” Damian scowls, eyes narrowing to slits, “and I feel disgusted.”

Lilith laughs, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard. “My naive little bird. I mean… physically.”

She’s close to him now, her face was in front of his and their noses are almost touching. Her free hand tiptoeing up his chest. He pulls away, baring his teeth in retaliation. 

She scoffs, “you put me on too low a pedestal, Damian, while you make her out to be an angel. Tell me, Robin, why is that?”

The boy spits back, “Someone like you could never understand.”

She scoffs in surprise. “Don’t tell me… you’re in love with her! Big, bad, Damian Wayne – Robin himself! – is in love with poor, little, Y/N.” Lilith laughs a manic, psychopathic laugh, and Damian suppresses every feeling of wanting to lash out and yell. She continues, “and to think of all the trouble that could happen if this little… scandal came out.”

Damian doesn’t hold back as he tries to lunge at her in anguish, the cold metal chains digging into the flesh of his wrists. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would,” she smirks mockingly, and Damian watches in horror as she lifts your chin with the barrel of her gun. “Y/N was so nice to me, too… but she’s the one who’s taking you away from me.” Her eyes flash dangerously, “But if I can’t have you, no one can.”

She drops your chin, and Damian sucks in a breath of relief – at least now he had a little time to come up with a plan. His father should be here any minute, but she’s armed and dangerous. She has two hostages, himself and you. There’s a fire escape on his left, but it seems to be barred and chained, preventing any sort of escape. Damian swears silently to himself. He should have seen the signs. He could have prevented all of this but he didn’t. He knows exactly what you would say to him if you heard him – “it’s not your fault” and “you couldn’t have known”. 

Lilith chuckles darkly, “you should see your face! Your look of regret…” With a powerful swing, the hilt of her gun made contact with the side of Damian’s face. “Pathetic,” she muttered, and Damian watches as she checks her watch, a sinister smile stretching across her face. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. I just have to get your father’s permission to be yours.”

She snorts, “not like it matters! You’ll be mine either way – especially if you value your life.”

His eyes widen, Father. Of course, all his father was doing was buying him some time. He watches as Lilith skips away, swinging the gun haphazardly as she leaves the rooftop. Now was his chance. Pressing a button on his watch, letting out a breath of relief at the feeling of the machine turning on, preparing for usage. Seconds later, he was free from his bonds, and he shook out his wrists, muttering quietly to himself, “thanks, Pennyworth.”

He rushes over to you, shaking your shoulders in an attempt to wake you up. “Come on, Y/N…”

A quiet, almost inaudible, groan squeezes past your lips and Damian’s heart relaxes. He got to work at your bonds, and they gave way relatively easily – the chains that were wrapped around your wrists were rustier than his. You fall forward into his arms, shaking you awake, and you grunt in discomfort. 

“Damian…?”

“Y/N…” He lets out a breath of relief, helping you up to your feet as you massage your temples. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You mumble, clutching your head as you adjusted to the bright city lights. “What’s- what’s going on?”

The boy pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his gaze shifting to the barred fire escape. “You remember your friend Lilith?”

Your expression changes with the blink of an eye. “She did this? Are you okay? What did she do to you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” He says gently, brushing some hair out of your eyes. “But that’s the least of our worries. We have to get out of here.”

“Damian, wait. You have to know what I heard.” You let out a breath, catching his arm. “When she knocked me out, she didn’t do a very good job at it. I went in and out of consciousness and- and I could hear everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Damian demands, holding your arms as he searches your eyes for an answer. “What do you mean?”

“She’s going to set the whole building on fire. She’s going to–” the words get caught in your throat and you shake your head in disbelief. “She’s going to burn us alive. Damian, there are people in here – civilians.”

The vigilante freezes at your words as he processes the severity of the situation. How many people could be in this building right now? There are around fifteen stories, from what he could tell, but it was already past the average working hours. Maybe five on each level? That’s still seventy-five people inside the building. He had no way to contact his father – Lilith and her lackeys decided to take his phone – and from the looks of it, you didn’t have anything on you either. 

From down below, he could hear the commotion of police officers with their loud sirens and bright lights. One of them was holding a megaphone, ready to state their claims, while firetrucks and police officers readied themselves if anything were to go wrong. 

“We need to get out of here and evacuate everyone,” Damian says, eyes flitting from the locked door and the officers on the ground. “I’m going to jump off the building.”

Your eyes budge out of your head at his words, snapping your head to look at him so quickly you got whiplash. “What do you mean you’re doing to jump off the building?” 

“There’s a hose next to the fire escape, we’ll use that. It’s bound by a metal fire reel and you’re going to hold onto it. I’ll scale down to the floor below us and break the glass. Then I’ll open up the fire escape.” He lets out a breath, blue-green eyes looking at you intently. “(Y/N), can you do that?”

“I-” you stammer, head reeling with the fact that you needed to support Damian, an almost 18-year-old who was mostly muscle and reached six foot two last Tuesday. “I- I don’t know, I’ve never–”

“(Y/N).” He says your name in a way you’ve never heard him say it before; with a softness and a kindness that sounded strange coming out of his mouth. “You can do it.”

You exhale, eyes shifting from the ground, to the hose, and finally to him. “Okay.”

He smiles, and you can tell it’s meant to be reassuring, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Okay.”

In moments, he’s attaching the hose to his belt loops and you’re testing the strength of the hose. The thick plastic is enough to give yourself a heart attack – what if itsn’t stable? What if it breaks? What if it unties? – but you have faith in Damian. He’s Robin; he can do this. You can do this. 

“On the count of three,” Damian says carefully, standing on top of the balcony wall. 

“One…” He tightens his hold on the hose. 

“Two…” You widen your stance against the brick safety wall that separates you and the 150 feet fall. 

“Three!” 

He begins to fall, and on his command, you grip the hose as tightly as possible, your feet digging against the wall. You feel him come to a stop and your heart lurches as you feel the pressure sink into your stomach. 

“I’m going to swing now!” You hear him yell and you wonder how his voice doesn’t waver. 

“Okay!” You scream back and your grip tighter. 

He swings, and you can feel weight of the hose shift with each movement. You’re praying now, you don’t know who’ll hear you, but you’re praying that he’ll be okay. 

Once, twice, three times he swings and finally, the fourth time you feel him swing back towards the building you hear a shatter. The glass gave way. He’s in the building. 

You’re still gripping onto the hose just in case until you hear him call, “I’m in!” 

The adrenaline is still pumping through your body, and you release the makeshift tether, collapsing backwards onto the harsh floor of the rooftop. ‘He’s okay,’ you repeat in your head, trying to calm the quickening pace of your heart. ‘He’ll be here soon. He’s going to evacuate everyone then we’re free. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay, we’ll be okay, we’ll be okay…’

The rattling of the lock on the fire escape snaps you out of your thoughts and your heart quickens in your chest. ‘Please, please, please…’

Your gaze doesn’t shift from the door, begging to whatever higher entity there is that it’s Damian. And when the red metal door finally swings open so that your eyes meet with blue-green ones, you’ve never felt more relief in your life. 

“You’re okay.” You breathe, and you shake as you get back onto your feet, stumbling towards him. “You’re okay, you’re okay…”

He chuckles, reaching out and bringing you closer to his chest. “I’m okay. You did good.” His lips brush against your forehead and you can feel the tears in your eyes begin to fall. “You did really good.”

He pulls away from you, his gaze softening and he cups your face in his hands, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks. “We have to get out of here. I don’t know how long father can stall her for.” He pauses before continuing, “are you okay?”

You nod, head still spinning and heart still pounding in your chest. “I’m okay.”

“Let’s go.”

He doesn’t risk using the elevator, instead choosing to run down each flight of stairs and ordering for everyone to leave before the building to erupts into flames. The loud screams of the workers fill your ears as you continue to go down each floor of the skyscraper, but when you finally get to the lobby, everything seemed to be eerily quiet. 

“There’s no one here…” you pant, hands on your knees as try to catch your breath. From the corner of your eye, you can see the civilians running outside and being questioned by the police. Luckily, all were safely escorted outside while you and Damian trailed behind just in case someone was forgotten.

The crashing of a vase makes you whip around behind you, only to be met with the sinister eyes of Lilith herself. She lets out a strangled scream, her hands pulling at her hair as scrunched up her face. Her breaths heavy and her eyes narrowed dangerously into slits, she whips the gun from her belt, pointing at the two of you.  

“You!” She screeched, hands trembling. “You little bitch. You always want to make my life miserable!”

Damian pushes you behind him and you know what he’s really trying to say. Get out of here. But you know better than to leave him here by himself. 

“Always getting in my way,” Lilith rattles on, glaring at his actions. “Always acting as if you’re better than me. Well jokes on you! This building is going down, and you’re going down with it!”

“Lilith, let’s talk about this…” Damian says slowly, and he side eyes the exit. “You don’t have to do this.”

Another scream of anguish escapes from the girl, and she fires a shot into the air, hitting the ceiling. You jolt at the sound, eyes widening at the hole in the roof. 

Damian’s gaze darkens. “Drop the gun, Lilith.”

“I have to do this!” She screeched, hands trembling. “The building is about to catch on fire anyway! Burn in hell!”

“Lilith, you don’t need to do this!” You try, “we can–”

She lets out a laugh at your words. “There is no ‘we’ in this equation! And you’ll never understand because you get everything you want in life! So shut the fuck up!” 

The sound of something exploding from the floor above you makes you jump and you feel your heart jolt in your chest. Damian’s hands find yours as another explosion sounds. Bigger this time, and Lilith’s lips stretch to a wide grin. Smoke begins to billow from the doors and so does the fire. Another bang! on your left near the exit, and it promptly lights up with reds and oranges. Waiting area is quick to catch flames and the smoke fills your nose and lungs. 

“Ooh, it’s almost done! A few more explosions to go! You know, I thought you were going to be on the roof by the time I was done, so I rigged the whole thing to start at the top floor but…” She trails off, swinging the gun around again before meeting your eyes, “now I can watch you burn.”

Damian scoffs and he pushes you towards the exit. You start running just as he speaks, “Over my dead body.”

Lilith shrugs, lifting the gun and aiming it directly at the Wayne heir. “That could be arranged. But…” the smirk returns. “I’d rather kill her.” 

“Wait-” 

She doesn’t. Instead, she points the gun at you and fires. You try to move, you try to get out of the way. Your mind is screaming at your legs to do something – anything – to avoid getting shot. Damian is running after you, trying to take the bullet, but it’s too late. 

A searing pain burns through your abdomen and you press a hand to where the pain sits. Crimson stains your shirt and you look up. Your head is spinning and a metallic taste settles in your mouth. You stumble backwards, just in time to fall into Damian’s strong arms. A sharp beeping sound starts screaming in your ears along with Lilith’s loud cackling. In a quick movement, he picks you up and starts running out the door, only for the building to erupt in flames seconds later. Black spots line your vision and you see people in dark blue uniform surround you. Damian is yelling something, you can’t make sense of it, before he presses his forehead to yours. 

“You’ll be okay,” you hear him whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

You want to ask, ‘what are you sorry for? It wasn’t your fault.’ But as the noise starts and you feel someone take you away from him, the only thing you can do is close your eyes. 

*** 

“Thank you…” you mumble, taking the glass of warm water from Alfred. 

He smiles in return, “of course, Miss (Y/N). Let me know if there is anything else you require. I understand it must be difficult to be here.”

Your current situation involves one of the many spare rooms at Wayne Manor after your surgery, and despite how loud the manor usually was on your visits, the area Alfred placed you in was all too quiet. In fact, you would think that the entire family was avoiding you – best friend included. 

“It’s okay. Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“It is our pleasure to have you here,” Alfred responds graciously, and you know he isn’t lying. “I’ll have Miss Barbara change your bandages tomorrow if that is alright. Ring the bell if you require any assistance.”

“Thank you, Alfred. And you know you can just call me (Y/N) right?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I am aware. However, I believe that calling you Miss (Y/N) is more suitable.”

With that, he bids you adieu, and you’re once again left to your own devices. The silence of the room has you shivering despite the warm cup in your hand. The books you half-finished lay haphazardly on the bedside table, and the tv on the other side of the room deemed itself to be useless when you’ve watched every good Netflix show in the past two and a half weeks. 

You glance at the clock; fifteen past one. You would usually be asleep at this time, but it hasn’t always been easy. The pain medications make you drowsy, sure, but the feeling of sleep doesn’t wash over you like it once did. Before Lilith. 

The newspaper sits on your bed, the front cover bearing words you so desperately wanted to read. ‘The perpetrator who kidnapped the youngest son of Bruce Wayne alongside local teenage girl pronounced dead in skyscraper fire’. To you, those words released the weight from your shoulders. You didn’t have to be scared anymore. You shouldn’t have to be scared anymore. But you were. No one in the Wayne family, except for Alfred and Barbara, have spoken to you since the incident. To be fair, Dick was in Bludhaven and was probably still caught up in his work to even notice what was going on in Gotham. Jason hasn’t been to the manor in a while doing some sort of undercover mission. Tim was with Stephanie on a mission (to Greece, of all places!) while Cass came and went as she pleased. But out of all of them, you would have at least expected for Damian to show up – even if it was just for a moment. 

The quiet creaking of the door lulls you out of your thoughts, and your eyes widen at the sight of the person in front of you. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Neither do you. But like everything, the silence must be broken. 

“You should be asleep,” Damian says curtly, stepping out of the doorway. 

A scoff exits your voice. “You shouldn’t have to wait for me to fall asleep to visit me.”

He flinches at your tone, a tone that you’ve never taken with him, and he closes the door. “I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me.”

Anger replaces your faux disappointment and you shoot him an icy glare. “I was knocked out, kidnapped, almost a victim of arson, shot, and you don’t think I would have wanted to see you?!”

You throw the covers off of you, stumbling as you stepped over to him. “I almost died, Damian, and you didn’t think I wanted to see me best friend?” Your chest aches and you can’t tell if it was from the gunshot or from your heart. “You thought I didn’t want to see the person who went through the same thing as I did?!” 

You jab a finger at his chest, tears falling down your face, blurring your vision; you can’t see his reaction. “I saw you jump off the fucking roof! You jumped off the roof and- and-” you swallow the lump in your throat. “You could have died! We could have died and you avoided me! I haven’t seen you in weeks, Damian! You could have been dead for all I know! And the last time I saw you was the second before the doctors took me and-”

He gently brings you into his arms, effectively rendering you speechless with surprise. With his arms wrapped securely around your waist and his nose against your jaw, you wonder if this really is the same Damian you knew before the incident. 

“I’m so sorry,” He breathes, pulling away to look you sincerely in the eyes. “This never should have happened, I– (Y/N), I failed you.”

“You didn’t fail me–” he scoffs in protest but you continue, “–you saved me.”

He shakes his head adamantly, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again. “You shouldn’t have needed saving in the first place. You got hurt out of my own inadequacy and my own misjudgments. You got shot because of my incapabilities and foolishness. None of this should have happened.”

“No.” The word comes out harsher than intended but you speak nonetheless. “Lilith fooled everyone. It’s not your fault she did what she did. And you saved me, Damian. You saved so many people that day. Without you, none of them would have made it out of the building. We wouldn’t be here right now. You got us out of that mess – a mess that you didn’t make.”

He’s quiet for a moment, gently leading you to your bed to sit down and he sits besides you. He dries your tears with his thumbs, cupping your face gently with his palms as he does so. 

“You shouldn’t have to look at a failure.”

“Dames, you’re the furthest thing from a failure.” You rest a hand over his, gently stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “You’re a hero.”

You press your forehead against his and you feel him lean into your touch. “I love you.” He whispers, not an ounce of shame or guilt or embarrassment in his words. “I love you so much.”

You smile, your heart bursting in your chest at his words. “I know. I love you, too.”

reblogs are always appreciated!!

no hate to people who have the name lilith 😭😭

#damian wayne x reader #damian x reader #dc x reader #batfamily #robin x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tw arson #tw assault #tw sa mention

[moodymisty]

Hiya! Could I request some Magnus / GN! Reader shenanigans? Like the reader is trying to learn a spell (to impress Magnus), does it by "The books are just guidelines anyways", and it works. Then they go to show Magnus and confusion hell breaks loose Blease and thankyou <3<3<3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Magnus time! I was actually working on something just like this, so this gave me the motivation to really spruce it up and finish it. But I really apologize because when I reread your request I realized I might've gone a bit less silly than you might've wanted. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationship: Magnus the Red/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None apart from this being my first time writing Magnus so please forgive me figuring him out I'm sorry if he feels off

Word Count: 1220

Sorcery is by it's very nature, finicky.

It has no solid answer, no yes or no. It's not as if it's a machine you can turn on or off, or a star you can see is alive or dead. It's an ebb and flow- something you feel.

But how do you feel something you've never felt before?

These tomes are largely nonsensical to you; The scribblings of madmen, words with no translation and sentences backwards.

You'd once again today attempted to make sense of it all, to tempt your better judgement that kept saying it maybe wasn't your most intelligent idea, but nothing has happened yet. So now you sit in bed, flicking through pages of tomes scattered across the blankets; Attempting to perhaps make enough sense of it and not bring anymore embarrassment to yourself than you already have.

In your fussiness you've already given yourself two different paper cuts, licking your wounds both physical and mental. You should probably be sleeping, the stars are out bright, and the wind gently raps against the windows as you study.

Magnus' tower is so ethereal, you look towards the window for a moment and see nothing but the midnight sky illuminating everything underneath it.

After thinking, you look back towards the oversized tome in your lap, lying on your thighs over top of a blanket. You'd picked many of the books not necessarily at random, but attempting to find the most basic of starting places from a collection that puts most others to shame. Magnus has many shelves up here, filled with his personal collection of tomes and scrolls. You sort've wish he was here to help guide you, but at the same time, you wish to surprise him to some degree.

You try just one more time, attempting to light a small ember in your palm. You follow every word exactly as the instructions- if you could call them that, and mange to hold it for only a few moments before it flickers away as if blown out by breath.

"Ugh!"

You drop your head, it coming quite close to hitting the pages of the tome.

"What is this?"

Your head suddenly whips upright, seeing Magnus himself standing in the doorway across the room. You don't know how you hadn't heard his footsteps, though you suppose you were far too distracted for your ears to prick to any other sound than what was right next to you.

Entering the room and closing the massive door behind him, Magnus takes in the scenery he's missed while aboard Photep, traveling the stars. After his quick glances he focuses on you cross legged in his bed, surrounded by opened and unopened books.

"Magnus!" He slowly walks closer to the beside, one finger brushes a tome he's clearly familiar with and opening it to a particular page; Glossing over it before he lets it gently fall back shut.

"Now, what are you concocting in that little mind of yours that requires so many spell tomes?"

Magnus watches amused as you close the book in your lap, legs cross underneath it and look at your slightly burned palm.

"I was trying to call fire. But it seems it's a bit harder than I thought." His smile fades a bit softer, watching your expression. The fabric of his robes is weaved with gold string that shines in the soft candle light.

"You seem to have had it, from what I saw."

You can feel his long red hair brush against your arm as he sits beside you, his massive height and weight difference forcing the appropriately massive bed to dip heavily to his side. It almost makes you roll, but you quickly adjust to prevent that. Now in your atmosphere it's a bit easier to look him in the eye, but you still have to crane your next a decent bit.

"I was following the tomes exactly like they said, and the best I can do is a little baby kindling. I'd have trouble even setting a letter alight."

You look up towards him, hands playing with the edges and filigree of the old, worn tome in your lap. Magnus speaks up, his tone curious and a bit surprised.

"Exactly?"

His eye glances down to the front cover of the tome in your hand, and recognizes that one instantly. With one hand, he gently reaches underneath the covers and gently clamps the tome shut, the top of his hand laying against your thighs before he pulls the tome towards his chest.

"Then you are taking it all far too literally." Perhaps the book shouldn't be written so literally then, you rebelliously think. He lays the tome aside, and uses the same hand to gently cup your jaw between his fingers and look up at him.

"it's far more of a feeling that anything, my love. If you keep just following the tomes, you might end up burning something down. Or as you've noticed, burning nothing at all." He lets out a laugh, feeling your cheeks move under his finger tips.

"I never thought you to be so studious in following directions. Perhaps you'd prefer Primarch Guilliman to myself?" You let out a harsh puff of air through your closed lips, making an insulting noise. Your hand grips his wrist and tries to pull it away, but to no avail, and instead you just grip the massive muscles of his arm and scowl.

"Funny."

He smiles wider. How you speak to him so casually now, compared to months ago. Perhaps his teasing makes it easier for you to forget who he is. He doesn't mind it.

A testament to your determination, you'd been able to cast something despite a lack of knowledge; But you could do well in having someone set you on the right path. Afterall, Magnus knows simply treating something with such an ebb and flow as sorcery as rules you can memorize will never bear any fruit.

Magnus can guide you, and truthfully, he would love for nothing more than to.

His sons don't need to be taught. They learn from his actions, and most are more than capable of progressing on their own and honing their own skills. To be able to teach his beloved something that is such a core part of himself, to guide your hand and your mind to touch something greater- he finds himself almost, dare he say excited.

He's rough on his sons, he knows they can take it. That they're built for sorceries and touching the warp. But with you he'll have to be gentle. The thought of it, to sit with you and show you wondrous things that your home planet kept from your eyes, he would start right now if not for one thing.

Magnus lets go of your jaw. He leans down and gently brushes a kiss against your temple, his fire red hair brushing against your skin again.

"Now, as much as I don't wish to part you from your reading, I have returned from Terra at my absolute wits end and desiring some rest." He smiles and vaguely gestures to the mess you've made of his bed during his absence. He can see other little messes throughout his chambers, as well.

"So my love, perhaps you could move your research, off the bed?"

#magnus the red x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[maggstar]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+, mni DNI!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Heeseung got assigned by his college to organize the annual gathering for the newly accepted students, he didn't expect to meet you, a charming biker who was lucky enough to slip her number into his pockets after scoring the boy with a green beanie.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, hookup, protected sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), experienced reader, Heeseung is a virgin.

𝐖𝐂: 4.3k

𝐀/𝐍: Hellooo, I'm back from the dead. 😃 Anyway, I hope you guys like this short fic I literally had in my drabbles for months.

Please leave any sort of feedback: reblogging and commenting is the best for me, so let me know!

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

Heeseung didn't understand why the college scheduled an annual gathering for the newcomers who successfully passed every year, especially when they assigned him as the leading organizer.

He wasn't a student who carried exceptional grades, thankful for passing a semester successfully, spending time outside rather than in books.

However, his teachers thought otherwise, somehow seeing the potential he didn't, encouraging the boy to pursue a better path. Their strategy was to assign him responsibility, passing him significant roles in organizations.

He caught their joyful gazes when he sat beside the table, crossing the upcoming attendees off the list once they arrived, sighing at the remaining amount, which decreased slowly.

Chae-Won voluntarily joined the assignment to help Heeseung, welcoming the new students passing by with a big smile and enjoying the fresh encounters.

If it hadn't been for her, he probably wouldn't have been here in the first place. All these responsibilities that were supposed to lead him to a better path weren't doing shit. He didn't care about any of it and spent most of his time on his telephone playing LOL to finally rank up. Chae-won found his vain attempt hilarious and constantly interrupted his game by randomly pressing on his screen.

"Don't be a grump, come on!" her delicate voice conveyed, playfully prodding his shoulder as she laughed at his annoyed groan. He glimpsed at her and, for a second, felt a wave of ease coming over.

They weren't friends for long but had already created a good bond. Their meeting was, in fact, accidental, because they got assigned to a side project for the school faculty. She was the head of the group, and Heeseung soon realized that they clicked.

After that, she always picked him as her helper, doing almost everything together. She was someone who he needed: organized and disciplined. He was the complete opposite. In a way, his teachers were content with this outcome, internally thanking her for her decision.

"I've had enough this term," he leaned back on the chair, resting his hands between his legs, "they need to find someone else." The cheers from afar increased as the students greeted the principal, who held a big smile on his face.

"Ah, you're so dramatic," she remarked after rolling her eyes, scribbling something on the paper. Heeseung glanced to see a sketch of a person with their tongue out. He only shot her an annoyed look before going back to his phone.

However, he got disrupted by the sudden rackety sound of a motor engine arriving at the place, boosting the unbearable noise when shortening the distance. His head turned to the owner of the disturbance arriving on a motorcycle.

All the other students were caught up by the appearance as well, their focus now fully intended on the driver and not the principal. Chae-won slanted over to get a better view of the person, who was now parking their motorcycle before striking the ground with their feet.

They slowly took off their helmet, flipping their long, dark hair to regain its previous state, running their fingers through it to mess it up a bit. Pressing the lock button on her keys, the female corrected her posture amidst fixing her leather jacket and checking her appearance in the convex mirror. The revelation took Heeseung by surprise, his jaw lowering at the fine lady.

"Damn, who is she?" he sighed, unable to unlock his immersed gaze from the biker. Her body moved leisurely, putting slight power in her movements. It was on purpose, for sure, but it definitely made her occur attractively.

"I've no clue, but she's hot," Chae-Won declared, fidgeting with her necklace. Heeseung didn't even perceive her disclosure, still eyeing the woman ahead. It didn't take him long to realize the upcoming interaction when you started walking towards their table with a great smirk.

Nonetheless, he managed to panic once you approached them, almost falling out of the chair. The struggle to create eye contact was evident as he nervously looked at the paper ahead, feeling his heartbeat boosting.

"Hello," your deep voice greeted, " I'm Y/L/N Y/N."

Fuck

He nodded, trying to suppress his heart straining to burst out. He searched for your name on the list, crossing it out when the pencil landed on it. Chae-Won was supposed to take things from here and navigate you to the school garden. However, she didn't move but exchanged an evil grin instead. Then she had the audacity to tilt her head towards you.

"Come on, Heeseung, you don't want to keep her waiting," he froze at the unexpected change of plans, furrowing his brows at the playful girl.

It was rare to see Heeseung flustered around a girl, so Chae-won wanted to make the most out of this opportunity. Deep down, she wished he would finally have a thing with someone to come out of his shell. If it doesn't work out, she can still shoot her shot.

"But you-" he glanced at her, knowing he couldn't walk with you without embarrassing himself.

It was his clumsiness that distracted all of the girls away. They saw him as an oddball and used him instead for their advantage. He didn't want to mess up his chance with you, unsure if he could save a mortifying moment from occurring as he did seconds ago.

Regardless, Chae-Won seemed determined, crossing her arms before tapping her foot impatiently and winking at Heeseung. He didn't understand her intentions, furrowing his brows at the goofball.

You chuckled when he stood beside you, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. He probably contemplated life amidst staring at the ground, but you found it adorable. There was something precious about boys feeling intimidated by you, but for some reason, you enjoyed his reaction the most.

"So, are we going?" you smiled, watching him show the way before walking beside the building.

You jumbled the helmet from one hand to the other as you followed the boy, eyeing him in the meantime. He was wearing a green beanie, fashion sense reminding of a skater boy mixed with a hipster, somehow appearing handsome.

He wasn't your type, swiftly reminiscing the boys you hooked up with in the past, who were nothing compared to Heeseung. The boy possessed breathtaking visuals: from the way his big, doe eyes sparkled under the moonlight to him biting his bottom lip.

Everything appeared majestic to you, and you got lost in his beauty. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't drool over a boy, but he was an exception you were willing to make.

Heeseung, on the other hand, couldn't control the sudden excitement in his chest. He felt a pair of eyes on him, and he didn't know why it made him so happy. Most of the girls he knew were innocent, bubbly personalities or try-hard tomboys.

Nevertheless, today he encountered someone with such a powerful aura for the first time. It was the confident walk accompanying your alluring face that gave it away. It was a big turn-on, and he wasn't confident enough to strike up a conversation.

Thankfully, you decided to break the silence.

"What major are you in?"

"Hm?" he finally looked up, meeting your charming gaze, nearly gasping at the exchange, "Oh, yeah, um, music."

"Oh, so you want to become a singer?" you smiled when his heart-shaped lips curved up at your question, making your stomach flip around - why did he have to look so sweet.

"And you?" he asked, slowing his pace to lengthen the moment, knowing the path was ending soon. He saw the group of students interacting nearby, knowing he had to say goodbye.

"Computer Science," you shrugged, studying his surprised expression, "but it's not as hard as it seems. It's fun!"

He beamed at your excited state, continuing the conversation to make your stay a bit longer. He didn't want to miss his shot at getting to know you better because you seemed so easygoing and laid-back that he could imagine talking to you for hours.

Random questions started blabbering out of him in a hopeless attempt to impress you. Deep down, he pushed himself to ask you for your phone number.

Yet again, he wasn't that confident. Instead, he observed your features in-depth, finding his gaze focusing on your neck and prominent jawline exposed by the wind that blew in your hair. It was a sight he could fucking die to. No girl he had seen harbored such sharp features, and that just threw him off the edge. Fuck the ideal type narrative he had created because you were something else, something he had never seen before.

As he kept talking, you couldn't help but focus on his moving lips, thinking about attaching your mouth to his, poking your inner cheek with your tongue at the idea. All you wanted was to corner him into a dim place, make out and suck on his lips until they turned in a beautiful shade of plum. He slightly pouted when he talked, and he appeared so innocent.

His poking Adam's apple moved up and down after every conveyed word, not considering your mind creating sensual fantasies about sucking on it. You wanted to meet his tongue with yours, explore his mouth and feel his warmness on yours. It didn't help that he occasionally licked his lips, unintentionally riling you up. It was getting harder to stay collected, and the little pool staining your panties began expanding.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" you snapped out of your imagination, eyes landing on his again after staring somewhere else.

"Like, what are your plans?" Heeseung asked, a smile forming on his face from your gaze. He couldn't help but wonder why you were looking at him with so much lust. A tingly feeling made its appearance in his chest again, his cheeks burning.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you scratched the back of your head, holding yourself from attacking his lips. You hated how gorgeous he looked under the moonlight, his side profile so ethereal that you found it unreal.

"What were you paying your attention to then?" his doe eyes lit up, hoping you would say something along the lines of "you".

"I've just been trying to suppress the urge to kiss you," you spat out, biting your lip afterward. Heeseung widened his eyes at your confession, which was the last thing he expected to hear. He stared at you in shock, feeling his heart going crazy.

"Can I kiss you, please?" your body approached his, coming closer to have each other's faces inches away. The desire to consume him kept growing each second he shot you that soft gaze, completely destroying you.

He nodded, his eyes locking with yours as you held his face, pulling him to you. You dived into a passionate kiss, tilting your head to the side to deepen it. You had never craved someone's lips as much as you did Heeseung's. They were so soft and tasty that you couldn't get enough, coming back for more each time you pulled away to breathe.

"What happens if I don't attend?" he laughed, realizing you had better plans than spending the rest of the evening getting bored.

"Well, you'll just miss out on the introduction."

"OK," you nodded, "and what if you ditch your friend?"

"What?" he questioned in a soft tone, noticing your finger pointing at Chae-Won.

"Would you get in trouble if you took us somewhere private?" you smirked at the thought, grabbing his collar to fix it. He gulped at the contact, hating how nervous a random girl made him feel. Yet again, you weren't just a random girl - maybe that's why he was trying so hard not to mess this up.

He could already imagine the disappointment his teachers would experience once they encountered the volunteer carrying out his duty. A failure, that's what they would think, and they would be right. He didn't want to bail on his professors, whom he had given false hope about his feasibility.

At the same time, he knew Chae-Won would cover for him, always having his back even though he wasn't the best friend. Maybe she sent him for this reason in the first place, to give him a possibility. It was on him if he'll take advantage of it or not.

His gaze landed on the assured girl again, nodding at her offer.

"Well," you pulled a pack of cigarettes out of your pocket alongside a lighter, pulling out one to place it between your lips, positioning it in the fire, "lead the way, playboy."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next thing you know, you both end up in the music room, tangled up in a lustful make-out session. His hands roamed your back as you tried to nestle on the piano bench he led you to.

You double-checked if you had contraceptives in your pocket when he moved to your neck. It was your goal tonight anyway, not wanting to miss the chance to get on with someone. Plus, Heeseung was quite charming, and you couldn't help yourself.

He was a sloppy kisser, and you could tell the moment his lips met yours. It felt like he was keen on more tongue action rather than a proper build-up. Too eager for your taste, but again, he was breaking your rules quite often tonight.

Your hand played with his hair while the other moved down to his pants, reaching his boxers. He gasped when your fingers brushed over them, his member twitching from the sensitivity.

"Can I?" you broke the kiss to ensure he wasn't uncomfortable with where things were going.

Heeseung couldn't even answer, quietly whimpering under your touch. There was something so mesmerizing about his state that you just stared into his eyes, leaning for another kiss. It felt so wonderful, and you couldn't stop. He had this dazing effect on you.

"I can stop whenever you want," you whispered into his lips, running your hands on his chest, sensing his change of heartbeat.

"N-no, don't stop," he grabbed your wrist, guiding you back to his pants. You smirked at the action, grabbing his crotch to see the desired expression. And it didn't disappoint. He leaned against the piano with his eyelids slightly loose, mouth forming an O amidst panting. You haven't even started yet, and he was already losing his mind.

"God, you're so beautiful," you whispered on his neck, leaving gentle kisses. He shivered at your delicate touch, his hand traveling under your jacket to caress your back.

You massaged his length a bit to make him hard, but that didn't take long since he soon provided your hand with burning heat. It was your sign to slip your hand under his boxers, coming in contact with his erection. He hissed at the coldness of your fingers, making his member tug rapidly.

"N-n-o, you don't have to," he whispered when he realized what you were about to do, straightening his posture to grab your wrists. However, you smiled at his behavior, leaving a light peck on his cheek.

"But I want to," you voiced before landing on his zipper, gradually dragging it to access his dick. His pants ended at his knees, now having his genitals on full display. Your eyes widened at the image and his size. It drove your head dizzy, picturing it vanishing inside you.

Heeseung smiled for himself at your cute reaction, finding himself blushing for some reason. Slight embarrassment took over him as he had never been in this position before. He attempted to cover himself, but you only yanked his hands away.

"Don't hide your beauty from me, baby," his dick jerked at those words, looking away from the attention he was acquiring. You grabbed his chin to meet his gaze, smiling at his eyes sparkling with excitement. You encouraged him to spit in your hand, confusing him at first with your sudden movement.

He obeyed and spilled a pool of saliva on your palm, letting it dribble from his mouth. A curse escaped you at the sight, biting your lip as you spread it on his shaft. The wet sounds turned you on, even more, watching his face express ecstasy.

"Look at me while I take care of you, ok?" you smiled before opening your mouth to welcome his member, moaning at the wonderful feeling.

"Oh God," it sent him over the edge how you didn't break eye contact amidst running your tongue around his tip. Your face appeared so beautiful as the moonlight shone on you, exposing your dirty activity. He couldn't stop staring at you with butterflies in his stomach, observing you taking a quarter of him slowly.

The feeling he was experiencing made him dizzy because this was his first time acquiring head. He was used to giving, not receiving. His friends always talked about blowjobs and how wonderful it was. Now he finally understood why.

"Y/N," he accidentally moaned your name, shutting his eyes when you reached half his length. Your hand gently rubbed his balls, taking your time to provide the best experience.

"Does it feel good?" you began to bob your head at a calm speed, studying his facial expressions quickly altering. His abdomen was going through euphoria, and he was losing his mind.

"It does, so much," he threw back his head and gripped your free hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You raised your eyebrows at the act, not anticipating the intimate gesture.

Normally, you would never let another boy show affection in hookups because it was unnecessary. In the end, it was about satisfying your needs, so there wasn't the need to be smoochy about it.

Nevertheless, Heeseung was caressing your hand and hair, and you couldn't say anything. He was so sweet that you wanted his affection.

"I bet it does," you expressed in a low voice, watching his brows slightly furrowing while he bit the tip of his tongue. You curved your lips up when his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, letting out such beautiful noises each time you pulled out and took him in.

"I-I'm close," his tender voice conveyed, feeling his stomach compiling his load. You sped up your movements to bring him to his high, welcoming the warm fluid on your tongue. However, you didn't stop but continued sucking, enjoying him uncontrollably jumping in your mouth.

"Fuck, oh my God, Y/N," he shut down, trembling from the stimulation you gave him. His hands were now desperately holding onto your hair, trying to control his spasms.

"You taste good," a quiet giggle echoed in the room as Heeseung stared into your eyes deeply, trying to find the right words after having the best orgasm of his life.

He noticed how you squeezed your legs together, grinding on the bench to pleasure yourself. He instantly dropped to his knees, grabbing your legs gently to spread them. You gasped when his hand slid under your vagina, his thumb playing with your vulva.

"Can I take care of you now?" he pulled down your pants, revealing your soaked panties. It was weird for you to feel this hot inside, and you found it hard to believe a boy managed to turn you on this much.

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs and panted when his breath brushed against your panties, hearing him soaking up the smell of your arousal.

"God, you smell so good," his compliment landed on your core, which he revealed by pushing your underwear to the side. He took a long lick of your pussy, groaning at the taste it left on his tongue.

Pussy-drunk would probably be the right word to describe his fixation because the next thing you know, he was making out with it. His warm tongue swirled around your bud and entrance, teasing you by trying to enter it.

Your hands automatically grabbed his hair, pushing his face even deeper to feel his nose on your clit. At this point, what was happening?

"Oh, Heeseung, please don't stop," you moaned when he moved his head up and down, rubbing you with the tip of his nose. He was so experienced, unlike the guys who have eaten you out before.

"You're beautiful," he whimpered on your folds, watching you arching your back at his technique. Everything was so fast that you didn't even realize your orgasm was shooting out, riding it out on his nose. Heeseung didn't waste any time and licked all of your cum, immaculately overstimulating you. You stopped him to catch your breath, gazing at his lips and chin smeared in your juices.

"You're so-" you switched positions, landing on his lap and going in for a deep kiss. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and transferred your liquids. At that moment, you officially lost your mind and suddenly felt needy again. How was he so dirty but sweet at the same time.

"So what?" he asked, holding your hips to guide you back and forth.

"So pretty that I want to ruin you," your words caused him to pop another boner, poking it on your core.

"Please do," he panted, intensely staring into your eyes, "I'm all yours."

"You don't know what you're asking for, baby," your lips uttered before landing on his, grabbing the condom to put it on him.

"Wait," he whispered, glancing down to avoid your stare.

"It's your first time?" you smiled at his surprised blinking, playing with his piercings. He bobbed his head, dying inside out of shame.

"Honestly, when you were eating me out, it certainly did not feel like it," the atmosphere lightened up a bit with your remark, easing the tense boy underneath you.

"I'll be gentle, ok?" you pushed a strand of hair under his beanie, grabbing his face to study his expression. Obviously, he was worried about the following, but his face still displayed enthusiasm.

That was what you were looking for, so you gently grabbed his length and started pulling the condom over it. He hissed a few times because your hands were still freaking cold, and the sensation was unknown.

"Are you ready?" your breath tickled on his ear as you put your hand on his belly, gently stroking to ease his tension. You were also nervous because you didn't want to hurt him unintentionally, and seeing him getting anxious about the act worried you. In the end, you mainly wanted him to enjoy it.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything to hurt you," he whimpered at your tenderness, mind still too anxious about the forthcoming shifting. You held his face delicately, running your thumb over his cheek. He murmured a quiet yes, watching you aligning his member to your entrance, which you revealed by pushing away your panties.

You rubbed him on your clit for a while to lubricate and give him some instigation. He was already moaning, his body quivering from the teasing. Then you pushed him in by a bit and both of you hyperventilated.

"You're practically sinking in me," you exhaled, feeling your walls tighten around him with each push. He glanced at the scene, his hand grabbing your thigh to dig in his nails. The way you talked him through it made everything better, and he felt like he was walking on clouds.

Other girls made fun of his virginity, mocking him for being inexperienced. You, however, were different and handled him with so much care despite having known each other for a few minutes.

"It's ok. You can go more."

Well, maybe he shouldn't have said it that early.

"Wait, oh shit-" the grip on your thigh deepened, pain piercing through rapidly.

"Why are you so tight?" it almost sounded like a cry, and you only chuckled at the compliment.

"I'm not used to big dicks. That's probably why," you laughed, calming the boy down with your humor.

Heeseung leaned his back against the fallboard, trying to make himself comfortable. He would have never imagined losing his V-card in the school's music room on a damn piano. At the same time, he was grateful that you were the one who was here with him. Now, he will always have a pleasant memory to think of when he'll enter this room.

"How are you feeling, bubs?" He reddened at the spontaneous nickname, noticing the twinkle in your dark eyes.

"V-very good," the words barely came out as he struggled to think correctly. The sensation you were guiding him through was something else, and he couldn't believe you managed to take his firsts twice tonight.

When you started riding him, it was over. He didn't think he could hold his load for long because you only tightened around him more. As if you read his mind, you began pushing more, putting your hands on his chest for support. He held your back and practically embraced you once he felt the familiar feeling inside him.

"Let go," you encouraged him as he shot his cum in the condom, pulling you closer to bury his face in your neck. It didn't even matter if you came in that moment because you felt too content to focus on it. You grabbed the open package and inconspicuously slid it into his pocket.

"I better get going now," with a jump, you pulled back your pants and lit another cigarette after heading out the door. You sent a wink before fleeing, leaving him dazed.

He sighed and discarded the condom, concealing it in a bunch of tissues. As he grabbed one from his pocket, he came in touch with a packaging. He pulled it out to recognize the object, raising an eyebrow. It was a phone number written on the wrapping of the condom he had used a minute ago. He grinned at the method, putting it back to catch up with Chae-won.

He saw you walking towards the ceremony as he got out of the building. You turned back to encounter his figure standing outside and delivered him a big beam on your face while signaling him to calll you later.

"You can bet on it."

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

Taglist: @jaylaxies, @end-hyphen, @hee-pster, @jakeswifeyy, @gegeetime, @heerated, @jayked

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ^^

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

@𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

#minors: dni #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen timestamps #enhypen heeseung #heeseung smut

[halfa-ghost]

guys I wrote a little.... fic for side hoes week

DISCLAIMER! this is the first fic I have ever written, please be nice to it and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated

Summary: Super Danny is tasked to find a hobby after getting some free time.

The morning was quiet, peaceful, and honestly? Boring. Super Danny had made sure of it. He'd spent the last three days cleaning up all the ghosts haunting Amity Park. This was not a hasty assumption to make, he'd spent most of the third day just… looking around. He didn't sense a single harmful ghost in the entire city.

This was a great success for him! He just finally had enough free time to handle the ghost problem for a while. At least, until more ghosts eventually started coming through the portal. So, why did he feel so… empty?

He supposed he was finished with his job. Fun Danny must be done studying for his Algebra test by now, the reason he had split himself this time around, so he figured it was time to fuse back together.

He flew towards Fentonworks, scanning the streets for any ghosts, he knew it was pointless. He did it anyway. The morning wind was cool, it filled his lungs. He wasn't sure it needed to, breathing was mostly habit at this point. He rarely thought about how he was truly a pure ghost in this form, he didn't really feel any different. That would be a subject for another day.

He phased into his bedroom and landed with a soft thump. He turned around to see Fun Danny actually studying at- he checked the clock sitting on his desk- eight in the morning! On a Saturday! Fun Danny looked up at him and Super gave him a soft smile, he was proud of him for showing a good work ethic! Fun did not return it.

“What do you want?”

It was then he remembered why he came here in the first place. He figured Fun would be done studying by now.

“I thought you'd be finished by now, but I suppose that you aren’t.” The second the last word left his mouth, he realized how rude that may have come off.

“I'm doing the best I can, dude! Do you know how hard it was for me to actually wake up at this hour? On a Saturday??”

That was the Fun Danny he knew. He quickly waved his arms in front of him and shook his head.

“I apologize for sounding dissatisfied! I understand that this must be hard for you. I just… didn't have anything else to do because I finished catching all of the ghastly ghouls in town.”

Fun Danny’s eyes widened. “What? Already?”

Super nodded slowly. “Now I suppose I have no purpose.”

“I think-” Fun Danny turned in his swivel chair and pointed the pencil in his hand at Super. “-you need to get a hobby.”

“A hobby? The only hobby I have is protecting the helpless humans of Amity Park!” He raised his finger and a gust of wind from God knows where flowed through his hair and cape.

Fun Danny rolled his eyes. “That's not a hobby, that's your job.”

Super pondered for a moment. Was it wrong to enjoy your job?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Fun Danny started again. “You have some free time. Go enjoy your weekend. At least one of us should be able to.” He turned towards the papers in front of him, and sighed dramatically. 

“How does one get a hobby?”

Fun didn't look up as he scribbled something down. “I don't know, dude, just wander around until you find something, I guess.”

That didn't seem efficient. But, enjoying yourself was Fun Danny’s speciality. That's where he got his name from! Sam and Tucker continuously calling him “the fun Danny” eventually stuck. “Super Danny” was coined to match it. So, he must have known what he was talking about. 

“Well I… suppose I will.” He nodded towards Fun and phased out of the room again, dropping his boots on the sidewalk. A woman on a morning jog gaped at him as she ran past, he knew it wasn't normal to see Danny Phantom just standing across the street from you. 

He tightened his cape around his neck and began to walk. He didn't know where. According to Fun Danny, he would “discover” something eventually.

He drew quite a few stares from the early-risers of Amity Park. Nobody interacted with him, though. They all just watched him from a distance. He didn't take offense. He knew this must be a strange experience for them, to see their spirited superhero taking a casual stroll.

He continued until he saw a young boy ahead of him, crying as he looked into the sky. He followed his gaze, spotting a bright red balloon flying into the sky.

He quickly pushed into the sky, his cape flowing behind him as he quickly grabbed the string of the balloon, delicately holding it in front of the boy.

The boy looked up at him in awe for a moment, his tearful eyes wide. He hesitated for a moment before carefully taking the balloon out of Super’s gloved hand.

“Thank you, sir!”

“You are welcome citizen!” Another gust of wind punctuated his assertion.

He nodded at the boy, and he happily walked away, balloon in hand.

Super Danny couldn't stop himself from smiling. His core thrummed, he felt giddy. This was all he needed.

It was then Super realized. He doesn't need to be punching ghosts and saving lives to be heroic, and it can absolutely be his “hobby.”

He continued his walk, hoping to run into an old lady who needed to cross the street, or maybe a cat stuck in a tree. It was cliché, but he could admit that cliché was his entire thing.

He wore a cape for crying out loud. 

#danny phantom #danny fenton #super danny #fun danny #dp side hoes week 2024 #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

[bunny-rambles]

‘I’ve been waiting for you’

characters; Kaedehara Kazuha, gn reader

cw/tw; none, just pure meet-cute fluff

word count; 900

notes; hi, been a while !! uh, I decided to go with a new layout, please let me know what you think, should I keep it or keep something similar, or go back to the old one?? Anyway, this is just a very sweet modern au one shot I did for my dearest friend @kaedezuki. Also it’s been a while so I’m sorry if it’s not my best work;;; please enjoy !!

Please reblog if you like this!!

He’s here again.

Soft, silvery locks tied up in a loose ponytail. Gentle rubies that sparkled when the natural light of the sun hit them in the golden hour. Baby pink lips that curled upwards whenever he spoke.

And that voice.

Seldom did you hear it, as the two of you have never actually spoken to one another, but when you did, you swore - even angels were jealous of the heavenly sound that emanated from this man.

You knew him as ‘K’. At least, that’s the name he went by in the local café. He would order the same drink, sit in the same spot and write quietly in his notebook at the same time twice a week. Sometimes, if you were lucky enough to listen in, he’d order a snack or two and stay a few hours longer. He kept to himself, very rarely looking up when he picked up his pen to get to work on whatever he was scribbling away at in that book of his. You were incredibly thankful for that. You’d be mortified if he ever caught you staring the way you did. But who could blame you, when a masterpiece come to life was just sitting there, in this humble little tea shop? You could barely pry your eyes away from such a sight.

“What will it be today?” The cashier pulled you out of your daydreams, shattering whatever hope you had of finally starting a conversation with the pretty stranger in the far corner of this small world. “Your usual, yes?” They prompted further, only for you to nod your head dumbly. You frequented here often, perhaps a little too often after the discovery of K, so you were a regular of sorts. It wasn’t a complicated order either, so most of the staff already knew it by heart at this point.

As you reach into your pocket to pay the expected amount, your heart drops to your stomach.

Oh no.

No, no no. This can’t be happening. You were sure you grabbed some cash this morning, or at least your phone but no, nothing was there. Just empty space and dust bunnies. You let out a heavy sigh of defeat, head hanging in shame. Great. Now you had to embarrass yourself and leave empty handed. As if this day couldn’t get any worse, K was now right behind you, empty cup in hand.

This is just perfect, why now of all times-

“I’ll pay.” That sweet, melodic voice spoke from behind you, arm already outstretched to hand the cashier the exact amount for your order.

“Huh?”

The stranger chuckled quietly at your stupefied expression, glancing over his shoulder from where he had stepped in front of you.

“Here.” A gentle hand guided the warm drink into your own, the other cradling it so you wouldn’t drop it. Were you daydreaming? Was this actually happening?

K laughed once more, “Indeed, this is real, my friend.”

Shit, did you say that out loud? Did you also say that out loud? ‘Say something, idiot!’ You scold yourself, your skin growing as hot as the burning liquid in your cup.

“Thank-“ Your breath caught in your throat, forcing you to clear it awkwardly so you could actually speak to him. “Thank you. I’m not sure how to pay you back.”

Once again, another small chuckle. Did he realise how cute he was when he did that? Your weak heart barely stood a chance when he flashed that charming smile of his.

“There’s no need, I’m happy to help my secret admirer.” Oh. Oh.

So he had noticed your staring. Face burning, you tore your gaze away to lock onto the floor. Hopefully the ground would swallow you whole if you stared at it hard enough.

A hand rested softly under your chin, urging your face up towards his once again. When did he get so close…

“May I know their name?”

And so you told him. He repeats it, once to be sure, twice because he liked the way it rolled off his tongue (and you did, too.)

“What a lovely name.”

“And you?” Curiosity was eating you alive, you had to know his name, his real name. This was the only time you two had ever exchanged words, no way were you going to waste an opportunity like this.

“Oh? You didn’t know already?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, one of the sides of his mouth curling into a smirk to match. He laughs once more.

“Kazuha. My name is Kazuha.” Roses bloomed in your chest, fire rising to your cheeks. Kazuha.

“What a lovely name.” You repeated.

You weren’t sure how that night ended, or how it progressed to longing stares from across the room, sugary sweet smiles and tender touches. Or how you managed to end up in the poet's arms one night, alluring phrases being uttered in your ear under the glistening stars and luminous moon.

Beautiful, each of you think.

The night sky and the moonlit meadow was a sight to behold, surely, but neither of you thought this about the scenery that surrounded you.

No, instead, it was about one another. Intertwined fingers tighten around each other, foreheads gently bumping together as two star crossed lovers observe galaxies in one another’s eyes.

A new constellation is born, as two souls merge into one.

#kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x yn #kaedehara kazuha #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #kazuha x gn reader #genshin fluff #bun writes !! #new tag for my writing !!

[xsezzie]

Kaveh no? Kaveh yes!

Apparently having a bad mental episode results in writing a fic for personal comfort? Anyway, Kaveh’s story has got me all messed up so I am letting him bully Alhaitham~

Warnings: It’s a tickle fic???

____________________________________________

“...”

“...”

Alhaitham and Kaveh sat next to each other on the couch, both staring. Today they both wanted to use this couch, and after an argument they simultaneously sat down in a huff, trying to move the other… or seeing who breaks first.

“Move, Kaveh.”

“No, YOU move!”

Kaveh was trying the elbow tactic, painfully jamming his elbow into Alhaitham’s ribs, earning a wince from the scribe. His efforts were mostly in vain as Alhaitham is built like a rock. Even when he started to use his entire body to try and shove his roommate, Alhaitham managed to stay in his spot.

“Stop… being… a child!” Kaveh grunted in between shoves.

“Oh, I am the child now? You’re the one who is trying to get physical with me…”

The Scribe pulled out a book from his pouch and began reading it, as if his roommate was not trying to push him. This only angered Kaveh more, “Seriously!? Just… UGH! Alhaitham come on!”

Alhaitham was secretly biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling, he turned on his earpieces and sat as peacefully as he could while the blond’s hands made contact with his shoulder and back, it was even starting to feel a little relaxing. That was until he felt Kaveh’s nails crawling at his side.

“Ah!!” The younger man jumped and made a squeaking sound, turning to look at the perpetrator with a faint blush across his face.

“Haha! What was that noise!? Do that again!” Kaveh reached to skitter his fingers along Alhaitham’s side again but the scribe gripped his wrist.

“Don’t… Kaveh…” He warned, trying to glare at him through his pink face.

“Don’t.. What~?” The architect smirked.

“Tickle me… it’s immature…”

“Tickle you? Sure!” Kaveh beamed as his other hand moved in and scribbled Alhaitham’s toned stomach. 

“NO! K-Kaveh- that’s not what I m-meheheheant!!!” 

“Oh? The great scribe can’t even avoid that simple trick huh? Time to punish you for all the annoying things you do!” 

Kaveh went to town on his younger friends' sides and ribs, causing Alhaitham to squirm and let out strained laughter, he was trying his best to hold it in. The book was eventually thrown to the floor so that Alhaitham could fend himself better, though once Kaveh’s more nimble fingers got into his armpits he lost it.

“Ahh!! Hahaha!! K-Kaveh s-stahahahap!!!”

“No way I am stopping! You’re laughing! I never see you laugh! Tickle tickle tickle~!” The blond began teasing which made Alhaitham want to crawl into a hole somewhere. His face turned redder and he couldn’t remove his senior’s hands from his armpits without risk of them being dug in further. Eventually he decided in his ticklish state that perhaps trying to endure this until Kaveh gets bored will be the… more rational option…

“Pfff- gahahaha!!! P-Please… Kaveh quihihit it!!”

“Begging!? Now this is not Alhaitham… who are you!? What have you done with Alhaitham!?”

Kaveh moved his hands and dug his fingers into Alhaitham’s hips, causing him to buck and launch himself off the couch onto the floor.

“Hah! Now that was quite the reaction…” 

“D-Don’t… Don’t even think about i-ihihihihitt!!!!” 

The giggles started again as Kaveh jumped on top of him and began tickling again. He was sitting far enough up Alhaitham’s torso so that his hips were exposed and Kaveh only had to reach behind him to squeeze them. All the scribe could do was throw his head back in embarrassed laughter and squirm.

“Kaveehehehehh!!! Get of mehehehehee!!! I swear… you are… hahahah!!!”

Kaveh relished this new side of Alhaitham he was seeing. His flustered face and deep hoarse laughter was a sight and sound to behold. It almost seemed like he wasn’t making much of an effort to stop him…

“Alhaitham… are you… enjoying this?” Kaveh smirked down at his roommate, “You could easily throw me off, why aren’t you?”

Alhaitham paused for a moment, calming down before his face went back to its usual stoic look, albeit just a bit pink.

“I wouldn’t want to bruise your old and fragile body.”

“What!? Excuse me!? You’re dead to me now!”

Alhaitham tried to grab Kaveh’s hands but he wasn’t fast enough, the blond slid his fingers into his armpits, prodding and scratching softly. This was enough to send the scribe into hysterics.

“HAHA! KAVEH NOHOHOHOO!!!”

“Haha! Kaveh yes! This is what you get, you annoying brat!”

Alhaitham kicked and squirmed under Kaveh, he resigned himself to his current fate and allowed himself to laugh freely, this delighted the architect who continued to try various spots on his body.

“Ahh, this power… not so strong now are you!? Hahaha!” Kaveh switched to scribbling his stomach again, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his fingers, “There is something amusing about seeing you like this Alhaitham… I can’t quite put my fingers on it~” He begins to spider along his lower belly as he says this, causing the younger man to squeak.

“Gyah!! N-Nohohohoo!!” Alhaitham decides he has had enough and squirms enough to knock Kaveh off him at this point, crawling backwards away from his attacker, he started rubbing his lower belly trying to get rid of the ticklish sensations.

“Is this… what victory feels like? I shall bask in it!” Kaveh teased.

The Scribe couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle, there was something nice about seeing his former friend enjoying himself. He realised what he was thinking and quickly snapped out of it, the usual stoic scowl on his face wasn’t as strong when he’s all flustered however. 

“Enjoy the feeling while it lasts, which will be about ten seconds…”

Kaveh paused in his teasing and stood with wide eyes, “Huh? What do you mean ten seconds? Wh- no no no wahahahait!!!”

#genshin impact tickling #tickling #alhaitham #kaveh #kavetham #haikaveh #lee!alhaitham #ler!kaveh #tickle fic

[musical-shit-show]

hi, I love the way you write dewey finn so much!! may I request #18 from prompt list 2 and/or “you are terrible at this.” from prompt list 3 for him please?

close enough to touch

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: #18 (“it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyways.”) from Prompt List 2 and #36 (“you are terrible at this.”) from Prompt List 3, requested by anon

Warnings: Awkward flirting, fluff

Word Count: 2,370

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long, anon! I was really struggling with this one but I hope you like it! I’ve been meaning to write some post-School of Rock Dewey, and if people like this I wouldn’t mind doing another teacher!Reader one shot. So please let me know if this is something y’all like in the comments and reblogs! Also, check out my Masterlist, Prompt Lists, and About Me page, and submit an ask! It might take me a little bit longer with some requests but I promise to always make those my priority. I’m also working on my Beetlejuice series (to fill the void of course) so hopefully there will be more chapters of that coming soon. Thanks to everyone who’s supported my writing so far and enjoy!

“Don’t look now, but he’s staring at you again.”

“Who?”

“The music tutor.”

You decided to not look up from your coffee mug, the creamer you had just poured swirling slowly. It was the end of your second week at Horace Green, and Mrs. White had quickly taken you under her wing.

The teacher’s lounge was buzzing with activity, since the second Friday of every month meant free pastries from the local artisanal bakery. Apparently incentivizing the molders of young minds with sugar and fat never failed.

You placed an almond croissant on your plate, trying your best to stay discreet, “What’s his name again? Danny?”

Mrs. White laughed lightly, “Dewey,” she said with the smallest hint of disdain, “He’s the one I was telling you about last week. The one who impersonated a substitute last semester.”

Your jaw fell open slightly, and you decided to get another look of this guy. Turning from the spread of baked goods, your eyes wandered over to the other side of the room, where you saw the culprit averting his gaze from your direction.

He was, in a word, unkempt. His clothes were mismatched and ill-fitting; the button-down shirt hiding under his loud sweater vest was about half a size too large, and his dark jeans looked half a size too small. Most of the male teachers at Horace Green typically wore sport jackets and khakis, or at least a tie. Clearly Dewey didn’t get the memo.

His hair was also rumpled, dark brown and wavy and spurting in all different directions. You guessed he had rolled out of bed without running a brush through that mess, let alone even looked in the mirror.

You also noticed a significant amount of stubble growing on his round face, finishing off the whole scruffy vibe he had clearly committed to. He was almost…cute. His eyes were the same color as your coffee, deep brown with a touch of lightness.

“Not to state the obvious, but isn’t that a crime?” you murmured, trying to be discreet as you gossiped with your co-worker.

She answered with an eyeroll. “Of course it is,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She took it black, two sugars. “But Rosalie—Ms. Mullins—decided to not press charges and hired him instead. Caused quite an uproar, but the students love him, so…”

You peered at him again curiously. Dewey was had just finished scribbling something in his notebook, breathing a heavy sigh as he slouched back into the plastic chair.

“I wouldn’t get involved if I were you,” Mrs. White warned, clearly noticing your interest in him, “From what I’ve heard, he’s nothing but trouble.”

You nodded. “Believe me,” you lied, “I know when to stay away.”

~oOo~

A sigh of relief left your chest the second the final bell rang at 3:15 that day. Teaching 10 and 11-year-olds how to structure essays all day really drained you, no matter how polite and well-behaved they were.

You gathered your belongings quickly and were walking briskly to your car when you heard your name being called behind you. You turned to see Dewey, and you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows. He was carrying what looked like stacks of sheet music.

One misstep and he’d be picking up papers until sundown. 

“Uh, hi,” he said as he caught up to you, the cold January air making his breath visible. He attempted to extend his arm for a handshake, but retracted when the heaps of music in his one arm began to falter. “I’m uh, I’m Dewey. Or ‘Mr. Finn’ as the kids say, but you can call me Dewey.”

Looking at him more closely, you decided he was even cuter than you first thought. With Mrs. White’s warning ringing in your ear, a part of you wanted to turn the other way, tell him you were in a hurry to get home, make up some excuse to not get involved.

But it was clear he was interested in you, and you’d be lying if you weren’t at least a little intrigued. And besides, it’d be rude to not at least introduce yourself, right?

“Hi, Dewey,” you parroted, giving him another once over. “I see you already know my name.” He was already flushed from the cold, but his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Right, well, I got it from the staff directory. Just…wanted to introduce myself. I teach the kids music after school most days.”

“I know who you are,” the statement came out colder than you intended, “I did see you this morning, do you make a habit of hanging out in the teacher’s lounge?”

He gulped. “No,” he answered, “No, I just…I had a meeting with Rosalie this morning about the spring concert.”

Pure enough excuse. However, Mrs. White had also let it slip that he and Ms. Mullins apparently had a fling a few months prior, which only intrigued you more. What was so special about this guy that he could avoid a criminal trial for identity theft and date his boss in one fell swoop?

“I see,” you said coyly, trying to scrutinize him without being too obvious, “And are you and Rosalie…close?” If Dewey’s face was pink before, it had now turned to an embarrassing shade of scarlet.

“Oh, um, no,” he said, clearly flustered. “Nope. She’s a great…lady. And really cares about the kids. But…no. Not very close.” You nodded, completely unconvinced. You didn’t want to believe the gossip, but with a response like that, how could you not at least consider that it could be true?

Dewey shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his grip tightening on the sheet music. “We kissed,” he blurted, exhaling heavily, “Like, twice. She’s great but…I’m single. Very single.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his honesty. It was oddly refreshing. “Should I be taking that as some kind of hint?” you flirted, smiling softly. You couldn’t care less that your nose and fingertips were growing red from the cold.

“Only if you want,” he said, a shy smile dancing on his lips. Panic overtook his features only seconds later. “I mean, shit, not to be too forward or anything—”

“You know, you are terrible at this,” you said, cutting him off. Dewey flashed an embarrassed grin, letting out another breathy laugh, “How about I just give you my number and we just go from there?”

The two of you quickly exchanged digits and walked to your respective cars separately, unknowingly sharing excited smiles that lasted all the way home.

~oOo~

A few weeks later, you found yourself sticking up flyers for the School of Rock’s annual midwinter concert after the final bell had rung. Dewey had somehow roped you into posting the brightly colored papers on every corkboard, chalkboard, and section of blank wall space in the school.

“I thought you’d be headed home by now,” you heard Mrs. White call from down the hall. You jumped slightly, the haughty timbre in her voice surprising you.

Plastering on your most innocent smile, you turned to face your colleague. “I will be soon,” your voice was dripping with saccharine sweetness, “Just hanging these flyers and then I’m home free.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “Any big weekend plans?” You shook your head, turning back to the wall where you stuck up another flyer. You hoped she would just walk past and be none the wiser.

Mrs. White approached you, skeptical. You were friends, sure, but she was old enough and smart enough to know when someone was hiding something.

And unfortunately for you, as soon as she caught a glimpse of exactly which flyers you were hanging up, it all clicked.

“I thought I made it very clear that Mr. Finn was nothing but trouble,” she said, sounding eerily like a disapproving mother. Despite your heartrate increasing rapidly, you remained calm.

An incredulous scoff left your lips as you placed your free hand on your chest, “Mrs. White,” she rolled her eyes at you using her surname, “I was simply assisting another educator in promoting a fundraiser for this school that seeks to promote the arts and enrich our students’ lives.”

“Did you rehearse that?”

“A little. But I mean it, Mr. Finn has been nothing but professional. We’ve barely even spoken outside of planning the concert.”

That was a lie, of course. The truth was, ever since you and Dewey had exchanged information, you had texted and called and even met up a few times outside of school. Of course, they couldn’t exactly be called dates—at least that’s what you told yourself.

He seemed nervous around you at first, sure, but as soon as you got to know him, that faded away and you were left with a carefree, albeit scatterbrained work buddy. And despite the occasional flirt, it was clear that he wasn’t as interested in you as you first thought.

Which only crushed you the tiniest bit.

Mrs. White glanced at the colorful flyer again, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, “Well, of course I’ll be there to support our students’ artistic endeavors,” she said, a small smirk on her lips, “But don’t think I still don’t have my eye on you.”

You could tell she wasn’t being completely serious, but a small shiver of fear still wracked your spine as she walked towards the exit, the click clack of her pumps echoing on the linoleum tile.

You called goodbye sweetly, playing your role as nothing more than a helpful new teacher who was just excited about music education. Stapling up the last piece of paper onto a mostly bare bulletin board, you couldn’t help but overhear the noise of excited chatter coming from the music room down the hall.

The door was closed, but you managed to sneak a peek through the tiny window to see Dewey chatting with the bassist, who was about the same size as her as instrument. You felt a grin creeping onto your face.

Dewey’s passion for music came out the most when teaching the kids; even after watching him play a gig at the Roadhouse, you never saw his eyes light up more than when he was in that practice room.

You turned away and took a few steps toward the exit when you heard the door creak open, the chatter growing louder before muffling again. “Are you spying on me or something? You’re already getting into the concert for free, ya know.”

Dewey’s voice was more hoarse than usual, the gruffness making your stomach flip. “Not spying,” you teased, glancing over at the bulletin board, “Just doing your job for you.”

He clutched his heart dramatically, “You wound me,” he smirked, “But seriously, thanks for doing this. Hopefully we can drum up some more buzz.” You waved off his praise.

“No trouble. Consider us even since you had to suffer through listening to me babble on for way too long last night.” You two had made a habit of call each other late at night, which only confused your feelings even further. Your brain couldn’t decide if you were just co-workers, friends, or something more.

Apparently, Dewey couldn’t decide either.

“It’s okay,” he replied, running a hand through his messy waves, “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” He bared a toothy smile, wiping his palms on his dark jeans. His casual remark was innocent enough but still found a way to make your heart ache.

You decided the best course of action was to turn the attention away from yourself. “Well, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with attendance,” you said, referencing the brightly colored flyer again, “From what I hear your kids are incredible.”

He beamed like a proud parent. “Yeah, yeah they are,” he said, “And thank you for spreading the word. Some teachers around here still aren’t too keen on me, after, well…everything.”

You felt yourself frown, your mind flashing to Mrs. White’s warnings. From what you could see, everyone had misjudged Dewey. He was kind, passionate, albeit far less put together than the other Horace Green staff, but he loved teaching and he loved those kids.

Wasn’t that enough to take a chance on?

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, I did have big plans with my couch and a shitty movie, but—”

“You and me. Tonight. Roadhouse.”

“Okay?” he laughed, taken aback by your abruptness.

“And this is a real date, Finn,” you added. “No take backs.” A look of panic flashed across his face, and for a split second you wondered if you had made a terrible miscalculation. But how could you not take matters into your own hands after his weeks of mixed signals?

Before you could open your mouth to apologize profusely for stepping way over that friendship line, Dewey grabbed your arm lightly, pulling the two of you around the corner and away from the only occupied classroom on a Friday afternoon.

And he kissed you.

Softly at first, so gently that you felt yourself melting into the cold painted cinderblock wall as he grabbed your waist. Prep schools weren’t designed to be the most romantic of places, but perhaps that was for the best.

Nevertheless, you let your eyes flutter shut as your lips molded to Dewey’s, your breath hitching in your throat.  After a few seconds he pulled away, a shocked look on his face that surely mirrored yours.

“Sorry,” he muttered, a smirk creeping its way onto his mouth, “Surprised myself with that little stunt, huh?” You nodded as he peeled himself away from you. You instinctively checked your surroundings, but you were alone.

“Dewey, are you insane—”

You wanted to be angry with him for risking both of your jobs, but the fluttering in your heart was overwhelming. One thing was for certain, there was no mistaking that signal.

“I just, I couldn’t wait until tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “But yes. I’ll see you tonight. No take backs.”

You smiled as he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, and watched as he happily sprinted back to his students.

*****

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

read part 2 here!

#dewey finn #dewey #dewey x reader #dewey finn x reader #fluff #fluff prompts #fluff prompt #fluff fic #school of rock #school of rock musical #sor #sor musical #sor broadway #school of rock broadway #alex brightman #beetlejuice #broadway #fanfiction prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #broadway fanfiction #jack black #au #writing prompt #romance writing #writing #my writing #fanfic authors #request

[fairyyeo]

christmas tree farm ❅ yang jeongin

pairing — jeongin x reader

genre — fluff

tw — none

wc — 1.1k

a/n — also not proofread .. hah sorry .. anyways .. last xmas post !!!! merry crhistmas everyone !!! pls reblog if you enjoyed <3

————

your family lived on a beautiful christmas tree farm, and ever since you were old enough to manage, you helped your parents out on the farm.

it opened on december 1st and closed on december 24th every year. it was busiest mid december, which is when you first met jeongin ten years ago, back when you were both young kids.

he was adorable back then. huge goofy grin and sparkly curious eyes. jeongin came with his family in the middle of december to get their christmas tree. his parents ushered him to hand you the money, despite his shyness. since that first awkward, conversation-less first encounter, it had become a tradition for jeongin to pay on behalf of his family when they came to get their christmas tree.

obviously, christmas was your favourite time of the year. secretly, however, a major contributing factor to that statement was getting to see jeongin again after 12 months.

see, this year you were planning on working up the courage to ask him out. you were meant to do it last year, and the year before, but you always chickened out and were forced to wait another 12 months.

but this time you wouldn't.

"here come the yangs." your annoying brother beomgyu nudged you obnoxiously.

"please don't do anything to jeopardise this when they come to pay later." you begged him, grabbing the saw and tape measure to hand the yang family.

"i wouldn't dare." he raised his hands in surrender.

you lifted a doubtful brow.

"trust me." beomgyu said, spinning you around to face the familiar approaching family.

"welcome everyone! it's great to see you all again." you smiled at them.

"hi, sweetie! has it been busy today?" jeongin's mother asked you.

you waved the question off with another smile, "a little, but nothing we can't handle." you motioned to your brother who was busy organising some ornaments behind you. "right, beom?"

"of course!" he whizzed around lifting a thumbs up.

you passed over the saw and tape measure which jeongin accepted, "have fun out there! don't forget it's cold and you're welcome to hot beverages when you come to pay."

"thanks sweetie!" jeongin's mother called out to you as they headed out into the snow covered forest.

when they were a distance away, their bright puffy jackets just specks of colour amongst the snow, beomgyu commented, "jeongin was totally checking you out just then."

"what?! he was not." your cheeks warmed despite your disagreement.

"he so was." beomgyu persisted, "are you finally gonna ask him out?"

you couldn't contain your grin, "should i? do you think he'd say yes? i've been thinking about it for years."

"years?"

"yes.. is that weird?"

"well, it's not that weird. maybe a little creepy that you've been secretly ogling him for ten minutes every twelve months, but not weird. you definitely have to ask him out." beomgyu said, and he had a point.

"i know." you sighed, drawing mindless scribbles on the notepad at the counter.

you made yourself busy while waiting for the yangs to bring over their tree for payment. you tidied behind the counter, reorganised the tape measures on the shelf, and made yourself a hot chocolate with the kettle and provided ingredients.

"they're coming back." beomgyu pointed out casually, nodding towards the family.

you stiffened as the nerves instantly returned.

beomgyu seemed to notice, "hey, relax, it's probably gonna be fine."

"yeah. probably." you repeated, taking a deep breath.

"we're back!" jeongin's mother smiled at you, her husband struggling behind with the three.

"that's a gorgeous tree, you chose well this year!" you complimented. "how tall was it?"

"just over six foot." jeongin's dad called from behind.

"okay," you smiled, "that'll be a hundred dollars, then."

your eyes flitted to jeongin, who, to your surprise, was already looking at you. your heart skipped a beat.

he counted through some cash, ensuring it was exactly $100 before placing it in your open palm, "here you go." he offered a shy smile.

you wonder if he felt that spark too.

"thank you." you put the cash into the register. "well," you clapped your hands together, "have a merry christmas you guys!"

"you too, sweetie! see you next year!" jeongin's mum waved you goodbye and her family did the same.

they began to walk away, and as they did, jeongin spared another glance over his shoulder at you, causing you once again to tense up.

you'd missed your chance again.

"well that was just sad." beomgyu said bluntly. "you just let him walk away.”

"i know, beom! i was already too nervous but i couldn't ask him with his parents right there." you whined. "guess it'll be another twelve months." you frowned, dragging your hands down your face in frustration.

"or not." beomgyu began to smile as he motioned his head behind you.

you whirled around to see jeongin standing on the other side of the counter, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

"oh, jeongin! did you forget something?" you asked him politely.

"uh, no..." he paused for a moment. "actually, yeah i kinda did."

"what was it?"

"well," jeongin paused again and took a small breath, "i forgot to ask you if you'd be interested in going out... on a date?"

"jeongin, i'd love to!" you beamed, heart racing a million miles an hour. you couldn't believe beomgyu was right all along and that jeongin was interested in you too.

"wait, really?" he looked surprised.

"i was going to ask you out earlier as well, but i chickened out... like i have for the last few years." you confessed to a shocked jeongin.

he sighed, almost in relief, "that makes two of us."

you both laughed, the nerves melting away like marshmallows in a steamy hot chocolate.

"i can't believe we've both been crushing on each other for this long and never said anything until now." you said, writing down your phone number onto the notepad for jeongin before passing it to him.

"yeah well," he laughed a bit again, accepting the folded piece of paper with your number scribbled onto it, "i think it started when i handed you that money when we first came."

"you remember that?" you said in surprise. "i think about that first interaction pretty much every day." you smiled fondly.

"of course i remember it! i thought you were so pretty." his cheeks reddened a little as he shared the honest compliment.

"well, this has all been very heartwarming, however," beomgyu clapped you on the back, "there's a family coming in right now who will want to be served, instead of watching this lovely little rom-com scene."

"so i'll give you a call then?" jeongin said with a wink.

"bye jeongin! tell your family i said merry christmas again!" you waved him goodbye as the next family approached the counter.

not a minute later you got a text from an unsaved number and grinned at the message.

let's not wait another 12 months this time!

— jeongin

#stray kids ff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids reactions #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids jeongin #jeongin ff #jeongin fanfic #jeongin reactions #jeongin angst #jeongin fluff #jeongin x reader #jeongin scenarios #jeongin imagines #yang jeongin

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Lilia's Backstory - Monster AU

Monster: Naga Word Count: 0.68K Relationships Mentioned: Silver, his birth mother TW: Child abandonment, brief PTSD moment --------------------------------------

Who would be foolish enough to leave their child unattended in the woods? The babes cry hadn't ceased for nearly an hour. Normally, Lilia preferred a challenge when it came to food. Not only that, but he enjoyed watching children play and have fun from his refuge in the trees. He found them rather endearing, and thrived off how lively they could be. But this one sounded much younger than the ones he would watch play. And it didn't seem to stop crying, peaking both his interest and concern. It didn't take him long to find the source of the sobbing, draping himself comfortably across sturdy tree limbs as he peered down at the small wicker basket on the ground. There was a bag next to it, with a piece of paper attached to the side. The basket, upon closer inspection, had the child inside of it bundled nicely in a soft, blue fabric. It's crying was starting to slow, easing into ragged, tired sounding whimpers. It wasn't until Lilia was sure the tiny being was asleep that he let himself fall to the ground and slither closer to investigate. The child had fine, silvery hair and rosy cheeks from having cried so much. Lilia felt a moment of regret for not having come checked sooner, reaching out to gently wipe the child's tears away. However, the moment he came into contact with him, he recoiled as if he'd been shot. Images flashed in his mind of times best left forgotten; memories he had repressed. It took him a moment to collect himself, before wiping at tears he hadn't realized he'd shed. He glanced at the child, stunned and almost afraid. He wracked his memory for any sort of monster that was capable of such a thing, but the ability draw up old memories was too vague to really come up with something. He debated leaving the child - clearly he wasn't equipped to care for it- but chided himself when he looked back at the babies face. It wasn't the child's fault. His eyes finally settled on the paper on the bag next to him, cautiously approaching it before unfolding it and reading the note. I didn't want to do this, I never wanted to do this. If you're reading this, I hope you understand. I would tell you everything if I could. Bear to you my whole story, how it came to this. But I don't have time. All I can ask is that you'll forgive me for asking this of you. This is was? my son. He's six months old and hasn't got a name yet. I was terrified to call him by anything in the event he passed early, or if I was caught with him. This bag has the beginnings of what you'll need to take care of him. Diapers, wipes, bottles, formula, blankets, clothes, anything I could shove inside. I never wanted to part with him, but now that I must, I hope that some kindly monster will take him in as their own. Please. This is likely my dying wish. I know you don't owe me anything...but he's just a baby. And I have no other options. So if you answer this desperate mother's plea, thank you. Thank you and may you know a life of riches and happiness and health. There was another paragraph haphazardly scribbled, but she had crossed it out. Lilia folded the note back up and peered into the bag, curious and taking note that everything she had listed, and then some, was inside. He looked back to the now peacefully sleeping child, very carefully using a clawed finger to pull the blanket down from his face. He noticed there were no repercussions, easing his nerves and making the decision easier for him. He would learn to take care of this monster, whatever he was, and raise him as his own. Warmth sparked inside of him as he slung the bag over his shoulder and held the basket carefully, rocking it slightly as he slithered back to his home. -------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hate writing endings I fucking suck at them lmaooo anyways. if you made it here, you might want to check out my other Twstober works here, or if you're looking for some fluff after that fic, you can check out my main masterlist here. Ask box is open if you have any questions! Thanks for reading!

#v talks #twisted wonderland #twst #monster au #twsttober #twst hcs #twstober #twst headcanons #twst monster au #lilia vanrouge #silver #ig #monster au lilia #monster au silver #diasomnia #monster au diasomnia