#posting makes this canon so I wasn't sure about this one

[jqnehr]

❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.

boothill x fem!reader.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).

𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.

"You look like you should be in a saloon."

The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.

He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."

"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."

"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."

"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"

"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."

"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"

"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."

"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."

"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"

"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"

"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."

"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"

You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."

"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."

"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"

He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"

You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."

He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."

"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."

"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."

"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.

"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."

"You can't swear?"

"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."

You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."

"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."

"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."

He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."

"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.

"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."

"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."

Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"

"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."

He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"

You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."

"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."

You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."

"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."

You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."

He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."

"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"

He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."

So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."

With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.

you forgot to pay the bill for your drink

so I covered it for you.

you owe me one, cowboy

His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.

Oopsies 🤭

How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?

His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.

Alright then

I want steak

Can you even eat?

You liked how he always replied fast.

Nah

But that's fine

Your company's better

Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.

Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.

Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.

© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.

#i saw somewhere that apparently boothill was mostly illiterate?? oh well if he this then that last part was ooc ig #anyways this was so fun to write OMG #boothill honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill #boothill x y/n #boothill hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #boothill x female reader

[dutifullylazybread]

just found you, i see a lot of pre and post family with the teefs. what about during? and directly after? how do they care for their partner during pregnancy? especially if its a diffcult one? and afterward when their partners body has changed and maybe they're less confident about the extra weight, softer body, the extra rolls and teh stretch marks that wont go away? how does each bachelor help or make it better ir suddenly realize that is even wrong to begin with? what if they accidentally something bring out that newly found weakness in their partners confidence? ( sorry if youre busy i know you got stuff to do- i just figured youre the person who could slam dunk these thoughts i had)

Have I... GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN JOIN THE TIEFLING HEAD CANON SQUAD???????

ADDED 4/26/24: This might be a rough list, but I hope you all enjoy!! ❤️

OKAY. I GOTTA ADD CAL. I'M ADDING CAL. THIS SWEET MAN IS A TIEFLING BACHELOR AND DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH FAN CONTENT... YET.

And thank you for bearing with me--I know that this ask was sent in a hot minute ago! I'm hoping I answered all of your questions; I got to a point of this sitting in my drafts where I just felt bad about how long it had been there, so I tried to be thorough but I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later. I mostly worked on this when I had a few spare moments between chapters, and then I said "screw it. This is getting done. TODAY."

So, for Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon--let's go!

DISCLAIMER - I do not have children myself, nor have I ever been pregnant. So I shall do my best!

JUST IN CASE - A CONTENT WARNING: While writing these head canons, I did refer to the tiefling's partner as "you." If reading about being pregnant makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please be aware and be kind to yourself. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be creating another head canon list, so if you need to pass or wait on this one, that's absolutely okay. Your mental health is important.

Cal

While Cal's partner is pregnant, he will do absolutely anything and everything to make sure they are comfortable. To say that he is doting is putting things very mildly.

He will make your favorite meals, will go out and get whatever you are craving (late night runs--not a problem), will rub your swollen ankles.

Too hot? He's asking Rolan for a cantrip scroll to fix it. Too cold? He's already piling you with blankets.

Are you feeling sick and nauseous? He's already prepping something for you to eat/drink that doesn't have an offensive smell.

And if it's a hard pregnancy? I don't see him leaving your side. If he does, he has Rolan create a sending stone set for the two of you so that you can reach out to him for anything and everything.

Honestly, he doesn't get far enough for him to even use the sending stones. He is looking for anything and everything to make the pregnancy easier on you. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now because he doesn't want you to lay there in pain.

There may be points where he feels helpless because while he can do things to try and alleviate any physical discomfort, there are just times when he might just grasp at straws.

And, in situations where he can't alleviate your physical discomfort, he will do what he can to distract you.

He keeps his stress managed well enough, but that doesn't mean he won't snap at Lia or Rolan if he is too anxious. If he does get openly frustrated with them, it takes both off guard.

I also think he just holds you. A lot. Part of that is to comfort you, and the other part is to assure himself that everything will be okay.

If his partner is dealing with body image issues after giving birth, I see him being confused. You? The most enchanting person he has ever known?

Cut to him kissing you and holding you whenever possible. He'll ask Lia and Rolan to watch the baby whilst the two of you go on outings when your health permits. If it helps you to hear it, he'll remind you how lovely you are. Frequently. Hourly. Every five minutes? Not quite, but close enough.

Personally, I don't think his doting goes away after the pregnancy. And, if it is too much, it might make you feel like he views you as helpless.

If you give voice to this, he goes into immediate mediation mode. He will be extremely apologetic. He loves you and never wants you to think he perceives you as anything other than the phenomenal person you are.

Rolan

Ugh. My beloved.

He might be more stressed about having a child than you are.

He never anticipated being a father, and that might be for 15+ reasons, but he feels drastically unprepared (even if the pregnancy was planned).

He reads every. Single. Book. On pregnancy. He is the parent who gives himself nightmares when he reads about birthing complications.

Every sign of discomfort that you show is a catastrophe on the horizon.

And if it's a difficult pregnancy? Yeah. Dial that up by five notches.

He is preparing for all worst-case scenarios.

If it weren't for Cal and Lia keeping him in check, he would be safety-proofing everything in the tower.

He crafts sending stones so you can call for him if you need anything. ANYTHING.

But also, he starts shadowing midwives and asking lots of questions. If the worst were to happen and you couldn't reach a professional, he wants to be there to help you.

After giving birth, I see him splitting his anxiety between your health/recovery and the baby's overall well-being.

"The baby sneezed. That might indicate five different lethal illnesses. I'm fetching the cleric."

This is another situation where you, Cal, and Lia might have to remind him that, yes, babies do sometimes sneeze, and not everything that lands in the diaper spells doom.

Rolan might not initially understand why you're feeling self-conscious about any weight gain. Of course you're lovely. Also, isn't that what happens with pregnancies? (His words--not mine).

He assures you that you're lovely, but words might not be enough here. He might shove his foot in his mouth while trying to make the situation better.

But the best thing for him to do is remind you, repeatedly, that you are lovely. And that might not have been something he was accustomed to even saying to you prior to you conceiving. He would assume you knew that he was attracted to you.

It honestly might be the strangest (and most endearing) thing to have him say "You look very lovely today. Yes, even with the baby's spit up on your shirt."

Zevlor

*nervously staring at the tiefling I am the most unsure about writing.*

*cracks my knuckles and cries because it hurt like hell*

Zevlor has been through some of the most heinous things that can be thrown at someone. He is a seasoned soldier. A Hellrider. Surely he can help his partner through pregnancy. After all, there were plenty of soldiers in the barracks who has pregnant spouses. He's heard enough stories that he feels prepared.

He survived the Elturel's Descent. It's possible that he helped safeguard someone who was in the middle of giving birth or guided expecting parents to safety. Maybe he had to fight off the devil's skulking the streets if they caught wind/heard that person enduring birthing pains?

So maybe, he thinks, he has already seen some of the worst births ever. Maybe, he thinks, in this time of relative peace, in this home that he and his love have created, it'll be easier?

My personal headcanon for Zevlor is that he put EVERYTHING into being a Hellrider/paladin. It was his life. It was his every breathing moment. And when he became an oathbreaker, it destroyed him. His life was devoted to protecting others, and he feels that he failed in the worst of ways possible.

He certainly had friends and very possibly family that he would see on occasion, but I think that, if you didn't fight alongside him/live in the barracks too, you very likely didn't see much of him.

So maybe he has heard a great deal about pregnancies. And maybe he knows about the complicated ones--just a bit. But he himself is at a loss for when his partner tells him that they are pregnant.

Is he excited? Absolutely. Is he terrified. Oh yeah.

Regardless of how complicated the pregnancy is, he is nervous. He is worried that he will slip up in all the ways that matter, and he is terrified of letting you down.

He's a soldier though, and he prepares for everything.

He has additional blankets and pillows next to the bed.

Hot and cold compresses are ready to go.

He makes sure that he accounts for your cravings whenever shopping.

He has medicine for when the pain is severe. And when the medicine doesn't cut it, he tries his best to distract you--his mileage varies.

And this man adores you. So after the pregnancy, if you are feeling self-conscious, he will worship your body.

Dammon

I could see Cal and Dammon both being very doting, but Dammon would be juggling the forge and helping you.

If you spent a lot of time in the forge with him prior to pregnancy but find that being in there now makes you feel ill, he will absolutely feel lonelier. He is definitely the sort of person who gets very absorbed in his work, and I think this makes him feel guilty. Especially if he feels like him being there could have made things easier for you.

He becomes a meal prep king. Will cook several comfort meals for you to eat while he is working.

Massages swollen ankles and feet and anything else.

While he might have worked later hours in the forge before, he makes a point to wrap things up sooner to spend evenings with you.

That doesn't mean he isn't nervous--you're about to have a child, and he does worry if there will be enough money.

He worries that if he does slow down, commissions will dry up, and then where will that leave the three of you?

If the pregnancy is difficult, he feels guilty for leaving you alone and looks for hundreds of ways to make things easier.

Eventually, he creates a small sitting space for you near the doorway to the shop itself. It's not so close to the forge that you'll be uncomfortably hot or so close that the smell will make you sick, and he sets up a small tarp to create some shade.

If you helped Dammon in the forge before the pregnancy, he is likely hesitant to have you come back and immediately help. Especially if the birth was difficult.

But what you need, more than anything from him, is time

And Dammon wants to be a parent who is present in your life and the baby's, so he does everything to be there.

But money is still a stressor. And he might worry about you being in the forge again. So he's stressed on all fronts.

And while I don't see him commenting or changing how he treats his partner because of weight change, I do see him being VERY reluctant to have you work in the forge with him.

And this may lead to an argument. You know he is stressed about commissions and being there for you and the baby, but you still want to help.

So Dammon dials it back several notches and agrees that you know your body best. So long as you feel comfortable working in the forge, and so long as you listen to your body, the two of you can start it from there.

And it gets easier to balance the forge and child rearing. While the baby isn't allowed close to the open heat/flame until they fully understand why they must be careful (and until their lungs are developed), you and Dammon create a small swing/play area nearby.

#rolan #dammon #cal #zevlor #bg3 #bg3 head canons #bg3 headcanons #headcanons #cw: pregnancy #cw: childbirth #tiefling bachelors #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 #rolan bg3 #tieflings #bg3 tiefling #bg3 fanfic #cw: dammon #dammon bg3 #cal bg3 #zevlor bg3 #ch: cal #ch: rolan #ch: Dammon #ch: zevlor

[gen-is-gone]

my for some reason unpopular opinion is that it's boring when Fitz remains unhinged levels of self-deluded and closeted actually. Why does he have to be doctor who's answer to dean winchester, huh? why would this man in his mid-thirties who has spent at least a decade traveling in time and space still have weird insane hangups about being attracted to dudes? why does that need to be the thing about the text that we all collectively think is worth taking at face value? it's boring and fucking depressing and honestly doesn't make sense when the future of humanity in doctor who is that bisexuality is the cultural default and completely unremarkable.

#like geez I don't think that making it to thirty+ years old and still being afraid and filled with self-hatred is funny actually #eighth doctor adventures #eighth doctor #fitz kreiner #megan whines into the empty abyss of cyberspace #it's also weird because this definitely wasn't the attitude in fandom ten years ago #my suspicion is that Steve Cole's confirmation that Fitz was always meant to be bi made people start taking the text literally #in a way folks didn't before when slash shipping culture was just used to reading against a text as a default #like I vaguely recall a post going around shortly after that was confirmed in 2019 #that brought up how Fitz being canonically bi meant that all his weird hangups couldn't be handwaved away now #because if fandom made him bi against canon then you could just ignore his weirder no homo moments #but if he was intentionally written as bi then he was also intentionally written as deeply closeted #and like. that's true. but also you can just do whatever the fuck you want with canon no matter what #and also like #sure many of the writers were writing him as queer intentionally #but like the writing in the EDAs is so inconsistent of course some people are going to write weird no homo crap #because those writers weren't comfortable with queerness even if Cole's intent was that Fitz was bi #like The Gallifrey Chronicles's whole thing with Fitz and Trix is one long lance parkin no homo moment #does that really matter more than textual evidence that he is attracted to men and knows this about himself? #like I just don't know how you reconcile 'Fitz will bend over backwards to pretend he's straight' with #'a consideration of his chances of [...] getting laid by the Doctor' #or for that matter 'with the Doctor it's the real thing' #or the really really heavy implication that he and Sasha had a one night stand in History 101 #or that he and George went on a date in Camera Obscura which led to Fitz being invited on the Siberia expedition in the first place #and again and I can't emphasize this enough: why is this the thing about 'canon' that is so worth keeping? #why is Fitz being depressing levels of in denial more fun than him being openly bi? #destielification of Eight/Fitz smh

[whumblr]

Weapon

So, a lil while ago, @whumpedydump asked about Zayne working with Emery and why Zayne says it's better to be tortured by him than by Emery. Here we go.

Warning: Dead dove. Don't want to spoil, so if you're not sure, check the tags for warnings, if ya don't care, keep going.

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

“What the hell happened to your hands?” Jay gaped at the bruises and scratches over Zayne’s knuckles.

Zayne instantly pulled back and turned away.

“Punched a wall because I have to put up with your stupid questions.” His left hand – unconsciously – slid over his right, covering the worst of the bruises, the raw, reddish split skin, and lightly rubbed over it.

“Yeah, sure, a little one-two combo to a brick wall.”

“Now you’re just begging for a one-two combo to your face.”

“Just saying,” Jay held his hands up, “if you found someone else to torment, be my gu—"

Zayne sharply turned. “Don’t ask,” he snarled and pointed a shaky finger in Jay’s face. “Okay?”

-

“Did I say you could stop?”

“Sir, he’s… he can’t take much more.”

Zayne took another step back, revealing the man kneeling in front of him to show Emery the state he was in. He was quite sure that another hit would knock him clear out. Which, honestly, would probably be a mercy at this point.

The man barely had any strength left to stay upright on his knees, his clenched fists ziptied behind his back were trembling, blood poured from his nose, and even with gasps and heaves he couldn’t get his breathing under control.

Emery remained unimpressed and stayed where he was, just a few steps behind Zayne. He merely glanced down at the man, who struggled to look up but glared at him with all he had left. “Yes, he can. Keep going.”

Zayne hesitated. He felt disgusted having to do this. It wasn’t like he hadn’t beaten on someone before. But this was… different. Too random. Impersonal. He had no idea who the man was, what he’d done to deserve this, what Emery wanted from him. He’d just shown up to this warehouse as Emery had ordered, was presented with nothing more than a man tied up on his knees and the task to ‘make him talk’. That’s it.

But the man didn’t talk. And by now, Zayne wished the guy had actually passed out like half an hour ago. But he was stubborn, like a certain someone he knew. Emery, unfortunately, was also stubborn, and Zayne knew the guy was going to be the first to break.

And he had to do the breaking.

Emery never lifted a finger. He had others to do his dirty work for him.

While the man was obviously nearing a limit, he was not hitting a breaking point. He remained silent, unwilling to give up a scrap of information, and with the bits of strength he did have every now and then, just glared past Zayne right at Emery.

But Zayne felt that he was nearing a limit as well.

His hands were trembling and not just from the pain of bone striking unrelenting bone. But also from the sickening crunch that followed every strike, the blood that stuck to his hands, the grunts of pain followed by agonising silence in front of him, judging silence behind him. How much longer was this going to take?!

A coughing sound escaped the man’s lips, along with some blood as he tried to speak and Zayne found himself hoping he’d finally spill. But when the man found his voice he merely said:

“Yeah, man, keep going.” His voice was soft, tired, but the defiance in it was thundering loud. “Knocked out you’d get just as much out of me as you are getting now.”

Zayne peeked a look at his boss to see how he’d take this.

Not well. Emery’s face darkened.

“Your knife,” he merely said, narrowed eyes still on the man.

Reluctantly, Zayne reached into his pocket. He didn’t go for his actual knife, the one he used with Jay. That was his favourite, meant for play. This one was a spare, meant for work, to be put away after everything had ended and snap it closed to keep the memories of the job contained. All kept separate.

He held it out for Emery.

But Emery refused it and took back a step, making room for Zayne to stand over the kneeling man and positioning himself in just the right spot to watch over the whole spectacle.

Zayne wasn’t really sure what he expected. Of course he was going to have to do it.

He made a show of slowly folding the knife open, but his heart wasn’t into it. Usually he’d love the twitches of fear, the widening of eyes, the flinch as the knife clicked. Here he was just furiously hoping it would make the man relent. When he didn’t, he stepped behind him, kept him in place with a hand on his shoulder, and pricked the blade over the side of his ribs.

Last chance, man!

The man tensed under him, flinched hard when skin split and red soaked into the cut fabric of his shirt. But the warning by just cutting skin deep was not enough to make him either scream or talk. And before Zayne had to make himself go a step further, he heard a tutting sound.

Emery sighed, shaking his head, and stepped forward.

Before Zayne could pull away, Emery’s gloved hand was on his and pushed the knife deeper into the cut.

The blade sank in deep. Way too deep. Zayne startled and meant to pull back, but Emery’s hand clamped over his and actually pushed harder, dragging it along. The blade slid in up to the hilt, carving through skin, muscle, blood vessels; indifferent to what it severed. Blood immediately gushed free. A sickening scream rose up and Zayne had to force himself to keep the man down by his shoulders before his trashing made things even worse.

Emery finally withdrew his hand. “Stop petting him and get him to talk.”

With some effort – and with a disgusting squelching sound – Zayne had to actually pull the knife free. Blood kept running down the man’s side, sticking his shirt to his skin. If he had to dig that deep, the man would probably bleed out after about three or more cuts. This was no longer threatening a man to talk by torturing him; this was ‘talk fast or die’.

And the guy seemed to realise as well that he wouldn’t be able to walk away with this.

“No… no, don’t do that again,” he wheezed. “No!” He bucked again when Zayne held the knife under the first cu— he couldn’t even call it a cut; it was a full on open stab wound.

“Talk,” Emery said over the begging.

And something burst. Along with his tears, the man’s words spilled out of him, talking as fast as he could through gasps of pain and in-between heaving breaths.

Thank god. Zayne let him go and stepped away, relieved he didn’t have sink the knife in like that himself, that it was finally over.

Emery nodded, seemingly satisfied with the info he got. “Good.” And before Zayne could even fold his knife, he followed up with his final order:

“Slit his throat.”

Zayne froze up. “I… I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“I do,” came the cold reply, effectively ending any further protest.

The knife nearly slipped from his grasp. His heart skipped a beat and it felt like it just plummeted down into his stomach, dunking into the pool of dread that started to violently swirl around. It didn’t. After that world-stopping split-second it kept going, thundering against his ribs. Wide eyes shot from Emery to the man and back until Emery’s patience ran out.

“If I have to do it myself, I will do it twice. Do you understand me?”

Zayne clenched his jaw and tucked away all feelings before a hint of the despair whirling through him could slip free. When he turned his back on Emery, a tiny bit did slip out as he couldn’t help but glance at the two guards Emery always had with him, estimating his chances. Slim. And he had no doubt that the man wouldn’t follow up on his threat.

Something hardened inside him. Him or me. Or rather, him and me or just him. Survival instinct took over, wrapping all around him like a cloak protecting him. He did hear the man’s pleas, but the words just bounced off, like arrows against armour, never fully registering in his brain so that even if he wanted to he wouldn’t remember them later.

Besides, begging him was useless. He didn’t call the shots here. He was just the—

He stepped behind the man again, so at least he wouldn’t have to see the shock and betrayal in those eyes turn blank when— He firmly grabbed onto the man’s hair and dragged him back up on his knees, holding him up. All part of his determined, cold act.

But when he bent over, settling the knife just under the man’s jaw, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Then he let the blade sink in, immediately going in deep – letting him bleed out as fast as possible was the least bit of mercy he could offer – and he dragged the knife over his throat all the way to the other carotid artery, cutting both.

The trashing stopped as the finality of the act hit them both. The pull of gravity on Zayne’s hand turned heavy and he let the strands of hair slip from his grasp. The man slumped to the ground, wrists digging into plastic as he struggled against the zip ties as if reaching for his throat could somehow stop the bleeding, and Zayne looked away. Would rather look at even fucking Emery than watch the final moments of the man under him.

Emery watched impassively and with a certain disdain, cold eyes fixed on the man, following every twitch until he finally stilled. Then he abruptly turned and walked outside to his guards.

Taking just the slightest moment to compose himself, Zayne took a deep breath – that did fuck all like putting a band aid on one of those cuts he just inflicted – and followed.

Cold air swept over the river towards him. He didn’t notice the cold as much, but the breeze tickled over the cuts on his hands and he found that he was still holding onto the knife, fist clenched around it.

Emery glanced back at him, almost surprised that he was still here. “Someone will be along shortly to dispose of the body,” he said, tone dismissive and colder than the night air around them. “You are done for the day.”

A vague sense of immense relief that he didn’t have to clean this mess up hit him, but not as hard as it should. It was dulled, along with everything else. Zayne went along as if on autocue, making eye contact and nodding, hoping it would uphold a stoic pretence.

But as soon as Emery turned the corner, his mask shattered.

Every emotion that he had kept at bay all night burst free in a whirlwind of chaos, battling each other over which one would get released first. It was overwhelming. He didn’t know whether to cry or to scream his rage.

Because what even just happened?! Was he—did he just—

He refused to look back inside, just wanted to forget about that image as soon as he could. But even if he wanted to, to get confirmation on what he just fucking did, he couldn’t. He was rooted to the spot. Completely paralysed, making him just stand there watch over the dark churning water.

The protective cloak of survival instinct ripped away. Immediately making way for something dark bubbling up, taking hold of him.

Guilt.

It clawed up inside him, whispering to him, calling him names, calling him murderer.

No…

No! This was not on him. It was not! It was Emery. It was all Emery!

If he hadn’t been here, Emery would have killed the guy himself. If Emery had called some other pawn to order around, the guy would still have been killed. Even if Zayne had refused, the guy would still be dead. And so would he. Every possible outcome ended up with the guy bleeding out on the ground.

This was not on me. It was on him, on him, not me! On him!

Because Emery already had his mind made up. And any bit of mercy Zayne’d tried to—

His breath caught.

If you hadn’t tried to spare him… If you’d just knocked him out… maybe…

No!

The blood was on Emery’s hands! Not his!

His knuckles ached as his fist clenched around the handle of his knife. Split skin burst open further, stinging, making him look down.

It wasn’t his blood… coating his knuckles, running over the flesh of his thumb.

And with a scream, he threw the knife as far as he could into the river.

-

Continuation here

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @scribbelle

#whump #whump writing #reluctant whumper #tortured for information #beating #home is where the hurt is #emotional whump #hiwthi drabbles #hiwthi #my writing #bigger badder whumper #angst #posting makes this canon so I wasn't sure about this one #had this lingering in my word file for ages #cw death #minor character death #forced to kill #bleeding out #reluctant killer #tw death #tw murder

[daisynik7]

Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo jjk #todo smut #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #to all the boys who live next door #todo x you

[hollowdeath]

professor potter

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: 2 years after the war, harry accepted a position as a substitute professor at hogwarts and recognized you from his years as a student. old feelings come to the surface as you both try to remain professional to keep his position safe.

content warning: slight teacher/student dynamic (they used to be classmates, reader is 18+), mostly slow burn & angst. smut mostly doesn't happen til the end (masturbation, penetration)

word count: 12.5k

a/n: wrote this for fun between working on requests! thank you to everyone who sends them in, they're so good and i'm excited to post more soon! just another fluffy, angsty harry fic taking place in school w a hint of smut...kinda similar to my last one but thats ok ! as always not exactly book/movie/canon accurate i apologize !

it's your first day of your last year at hogwarts, and you're probably the only student here that's not completely thrilled to be back. young witches and wizards running around you in the halls with their robes dragging on the ground, completely in awe with each other at the architecture and moving portraits.

you have to admit, if hogwarts does anything right, it's the ambience. probably the only thing you'll miss after leaving this year is the magic castle itself, particularly the library and your dorm room, which have been your sanctuaries for the past 7 years. there's just no place in the world, even the wizarding world, you've found, that quite compares to hogwarts.

but no, unfortunately, not even the grandiose castle of every young wizard's dream was enough to make you want to stay here even a day longer than you had to. and trust, you were counting down the days.

there was a lot that went into your disdain for the school. after the war in your 5th year, nothing had been the same. sure, the building was restored to its original form and even had some upgrades installed, but the energy within the walls felt so…unsettling.

it had been more than 2 and half years since then, and most students who remember the war well had either graduated or moved on from it. you, however, continued to feel the effects of it every day.

you've had a lot of personal struggles since then mentally, which affects your social life. you've overheard your friends talking about how they don't feel like you're the same person and you inevitably bring them down. it wasn't long after that they stopped talking to you completely. you didn't bother to rekindle the connection; you were ready to leave this place behind anyways, what was the point in faking a friendship for another year?

even without all that, you truly just hated your classes. you actually used to be a scholar student in your day, consistently making the top of the headmaster's list every year until the war. and you still loved headmaster mcgonagall, of course, you don't think that'd ever change, it was mainly the other professors that gave you a hard time. once you showed signs of struggling and burn out, it was like they just completely gave up on you and moved on to the next eager, bright-eyed bushy-tailed 1st year to dote on.

no matter, because again, you were ready to leave for a variety of reasons. even if you had loved your professors and graduated at the top of the class, you still had no friends to celebrate with. and even if you had those so-called "friends" back in your life, you still felt completely alone with them.

and so you laid in bed, the same bed you've had for 7 years now, retracting the ornate trim on the ceiling like you have a million nights before.

you decided to look back at your schedule once more, floating the paper out of its folder in your bag and towards your open hand. you read through it slowly, but nothing had changed. pretty much the worst line up of classes you've had so far. particularly your least anticipated course, defense against the dark arts.

at this point, you'd had more than enough when it came to the dark arts. those death eaters nearly killed you in that war, and actually did manage to kill too many of your classmates and teachers in the process. you saw your second home crumble in front of you, classrooms you grew up in completely leveled and the bridge burned to the ground, so much death and destruction over nothing but power. you resented the dark magic in this world.

sighing, you set the paper down on your bedside table and roll over, attempting to fall asleep. you have plenty of early classes this year and don't look forward to having to wake up with the sun to make it to them on time.

you're wasting time in the bathroom just before your defense against the dark arts, your last class of the day, when your peace is interrupted by a group of girls who come in giggling and talking rapidly amongst each other. from inside your stall you can't help but tune into their gossip. it's the only thing you could hear and, who cares, you could use some good drama.

you tried to dissect their conversation but they were constantly talking over each other, squealing, giggling, and you couldn't understand a thing. after a few moments of craning your neck towards the door to get a better listen, one girl's voice stood out amongst the rest as she asked, "okay, but, who's going to try and flirt with potter first?" her question was followed by many desperate "me!" "me!" "me!"s, a wave of giggling following.

potter. there's no way…

the bells begin ringing, signaling your next class is starting soon, and the girls go rushing out of the bathroom together. you slowly open the stall door and walk to the closest mirror. pale, like you've seen a ghost.

they couldn't possibly be talking about harry potter, right?

just his name had become plenty famous in its own right. the boy who lived; the boy who lived twice. you hadn't heard his name mentioned in a long time, though that's not hard when you've hardly interacted with anyone here in a long time.

you remembered harry from your years before the war that you had shared with him. he was 2 years ahead of you, so it wasn't often you had the chance to speak with him, but he was pretty much as legendary as one student could be at hogwarts. however, whenever you did manage to have a conversation with him, you always thought he was cute. really cute.

okay, so maybe you had a ginormous crush on him your entire time at hogwarts. but so did pretty much every other girl. but you didn't just think he was cute, you admired his gentle nature and timid personality. despite his heroic and outright dangerous adventures, he was always so kind, so humble…

the bells begin ringing again, meaning you're now late to class. "shit." you mutter, grabbing your bag and stumbling through the bathroom door.

you're jogging to your dark arts class with a racing mind, still wondering why those girls would mention potter's name so randomly.

you turn the corner and see the classroom door is already closed. "shit." you mutter again, stomping your foot. now you have to open the heavy doors and draw everyone's attention towards you, quite literally the last thing in the world you want right now.

sighing, you push open one of the doors, making the loudest noises you've ever heard echo throughout the silent classroom. you walk in and, as expected, all eyes are on you.

you grit your teeth and close the door behind you, making your way towards an empty seat in the middle of the room. the silence lingers as your footsteps hit the ground, trying your best not to make eye contact with anyone. you hear a few snickers and whispers coming from behind, and you can already tell it's your old friend group. you roll your eyes, sighing as you drop your weight into the creaky wooden seat.

you hadn't realized, but headmaster mcgonagall was at the front of the room. you noticed once she continued talking, looking up to see her smiling at you. you returned it. you love how she's always liked you despite your grades slipping lately.

you quickly look back down at your hands as people begin to turn away from you, drawing their attention back to mcgonagall as she continues to introduce the class.

"like i was saying, class, we apologize for the change this semester and hope you'll be understanding of us as we navigate this situation carefully. i suspect you'll all be respectful and courteous to our guest as he donates his time to hogwarts and to you, our students."

you look back up, a confused look on your face. what change? what situation? what guest?

it didn't take you long to connect the dots. it's like everything was in slow motion. the girls talking in the bathroom, the guest, the reason all the front rows of seats in class were completely filled with girls…

"please, class, welcome hogwarts' very own, mr. harry james potter."

all at once, your eyes landed on harry, who had been sitting to the side, obscured from your vision by several girls and a pillar. as he walks towards mcgonagall, eager applause erupt from the girls and the boys offer mediocre claps. you're too stunned to react, watching harry intently as he shakes mcgonagall's hand with that same timid smile.

you can hardly believe your eyes. what is going on? why is he here? and how the hell does he look even better now than he did 2 years ago?

"thank you, headmaster mcgonagall," harry says shyly, turning to the students. his eyes immediately fall on you. you try to convince yourself he's looking just in front of you or even past you, but you can feel his stare into your eyes. its the only thing that breaks you out of your shock.

you blink a few times and slump into your seat, feeling your blood run cold at harry's eye contact. he looks down at the desk he's standing at and shuffles a few papers. you sink even lower into your chair. this can't be good.

"uh, well, hello…everyone," harry says awkwardly, earning some flirtatious giggles from the girls just ahead of you. "it's a pleasure to be here, really, despite the circumstances. uh, i'm sure as some of you know…i've been very close with the weasley family for years and feel devastated for bill– uh, professor weasley, that is," harry corrects himself nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at his papers again.

"and when he reached out to me personally, specifically me out of anyone, to teach in his place for this semester, i couldn't say no to him. so, while it's a real honor to be here with you all, please know it's just for this semester and then professor weasley will be back to continue with the lesson plan in the spring," harry explains, looking around the room yet always letting his eyes land on you specifically with a lingering gaze.

harry goes into the schedule for the semester, the skills you'll be learning, and, well, you can't really focus on what else because you're just completely lost in your own head.

harry potter, the harry potter, is your professor for an entire semester.

you were completely dumbfounded. he couldn't hardly be older than 20 years old at this point. he had only left hogwarts just 2 years prior, yet he looked so different. though the glasses and hair stayed relatively the same, he had matured in the face. a slight beard, defined smile lines, and he'd definitely spent some time in the gym…

seeing him in a button up with his old gryffindor tie on drove you mad. is he really getting you worked up in the middle of class by just standing there? you feel like you're 14 again, staring him down in the courtyard from behind a tree.

it doesn't help that you swear he keeps looking at you. specifically you. his gaze is unmistakable at this point, it can't be a coincidence.

you try to stop yourself from having these thoughts and physical reactions. if he's going to be your professor for an entire semester you have to get over this silly crush that was never going to work out anyway. though you're soon turning 19, it makes no difference if he's working with the school, it would never be allowed…

what are you even saying? as if anything would ever happen except in your dreams. all you're going to do is lust for him until christmas and then he'll be gone again, his name nothing but a spoken legend again.

before you can process all he's said, harry announces that everyone's free to leave once you grab a textbook from him. girls are immediately standing up and running to get in line, and the boys are rolling their eyes as they sluggishly follow behind.

you're inevitably the last one, getting a headache as you listen to girls try to ask harry all kinds of questions for a bit of his attention. he mostly just gives simple answers or laughs them off, referring back to the class or the textbook he was handing them in some way to change the subject.

mcgonagall eventually shoos the girls away, which harry thanks her for in a low tone. he hands a book to each of the boys in front of you before it comes down to you. as the boy in front of you is being escorted away by mcgonagall, you briefly catch harry putting the library card of your book inside the front cover before he closes it.

your eyes connect as he hands the book to you, but he doesn't let go. your heart instantly flutters.

"it's nice to see you again, [y/n]," he says softly, letting the weight of the book fall in your hands.

the way he says your name has you frozen in place. his pretty blue eyes have stayed just as mesmerizing. it takes a moment before you're able to wrap the book in your arms, offering him a friendly smile as you softly reply, "you too, harry…"

you're quickly making your way back to your room with the biggest, cheesiest smile plastered on your face. he remembered you. you had barely ever interacted with harry, only a handful of times as far as you could remember, and you were sure he had completely forgotten about you, or at least forgotten your name. you tried to chalk it up to him having access to the attendance records of the class and reading over your name, but you still felt like a giddy school girl skipping along day dreaming about her crush.

when you got back to your dorm, you set the class textbook down on your desk and went to turn around before looking back at it longingly. harry had just put the library card back in the book before handing it off to you. you were most likely crazy, but something inside you was insanely curious to see if he had done something to the card.

you slowly opened the book and took the card out, a blank piece of cardstock except for a fresh label printed at the top. you sigh, almost putting it back before seeing something on the card catch the shimmer of the light.

you give the card a curious look. you turn it in your hands towards the light, trying to see what's on it. before giving up in frustration, a thought comes into your brain.

no…

you dig into your luggage, still unpacked from the day prior, looking for your old ink and quill. once you find them you come back to the card, setting it on your desk as you open the ink pot. you dip your quill in the ink and touch it to the spot you noticed earlier.

as you watched, the ink collected into letters and numbers, forming a message across the dotted lines of the check out columns. you were stunned. harry actually wrote to you in disappearing ink? you thought you were delusional thinking it was a possibility, but here was the proof plain as day:

[y/n],

hagrid's, 8:30pm

harry

you kept rereading the lines over and over before they slowly disappeared, fading away into the paper. you stood back in pure disbelief. what does this mean? obviously it means he wants to meet with you, but for the life of you you just can't figure out why. you two barely knew one another personally, it had been two years since you'd seen or heard of each other again, and now he's secretly inviting you to hagrid's after hours using disappearing ink? as your substitute professor, too…

from 5-8 pm you mainly paced around your room in both lingering disbelief and unbridled excitement. though you had no idea why harry had invited you out in secret, you were anxious just to be in his presence at his request.

you spent forever deciding on your outfit, feeling a bit silly for putting so much effort into this suspicious rendezvous that you were still clueless about.

sneaking out had become somewhat natural to you over the years. you knew all the blind spots of the castle and could hear a prefect coming from a mile away. you were out of your room and walking down to hagrid's completely unnoticed in less than 10 minutes.

on your way down the hill, your mind is racing with possibilities of what this meeting could entail.

arriving at hagrid's hut, you admire the warm glow of the windows and intoxicating smell coming from the smoking chimney – a mix of wood and garlic. hagrid's pumpkins are just beginning to plump up, his yard scattered with overgrown vines.

as you walk up to the door, a wave of anxiety hits you. knocking seems like the most impossible task in the world all of a sudden.

you steady your breathing, let your heart rate slow, and knock before you have the chance to stop yourself.

a few seconds of some rustling can be heard behind the door before it swings open. harry greets you with a warm smile. no longer dressed for class, harry looks quite adorable in a comfy sweater and baggy jeans standing before you in the hut.

"[y/n], you got my message," he says, clearly impressed. you couldn't believe this was real. he really did leave you that note on purpose. just hearing him acknowledge it made your heart race all over again.

"i-i did," you say in shock, searching his expression for an answer to all your questions. why are you here?

harry gestures for you to come in. "well, join me, please," he insists. you politely smile and enter the hut, the smell of food making your mouth water immediately. "smells amazing in here," you comment under your breath.

harry closes the door, looking back at you with a shy smile. "oh, thank you. it's for us, actually." he tells you, nodding his head towards the dining table.

completely set up with a tablecloth, harry has food plated for the two of you on the tiny table, along with tea still steaming on the stove.

"if you don't mind, of course," he checks with you, his voice soft and unsure. you look back at harry, barely able to grasp what's happening before you reply, "of course,"

he suppresses a grin as he gestures to the table once more. "please," he prompts you. you hand him your bag and jacket before taking your seat at the table, admiring the food he prepared for you. you're still lost in thought when harry asks, "tea?" holding the kettle from the stove.

"please, thank you," you reply. he pours you both cups of tea before bringing them to the table with a smile on his face.

as you're eating you notice a record playing in the corner you hadn't heard earlier. it fills the space nicely as you both take your first bites of dinner. "hope you like it, i wasn't sure what to make," he says nervously.

wiping your lips with a napkin, you simply tell him, "it's lovely,"

after another moment or so, harry sits back in his chair. "so…[y/n]..." he sighs. hearing him say your name like that makes your brain fuzzy for just a second before he speaks again. "you're probably, um, wondering why…"

you stifle a laugh at his stalling, getting a hint of confidence as you interrupt him. "wondering why professor potter secretly invited me to have a home cooked dinner with him?"

harry goes still, his eyes searching your expression as a blush grows over his cheeks. he swallows nervously, blinking and shaking his head before attempting to respond. "u-um, yeah, that,"

smirking, enjoying his nerves, you wait for his explanation with your arms crossed and a raised brow. he clears his throat and diverts his eyes from your gaze. he takes a sip of tea before smacking his lips and looking back at you.

"i just, i haven't seen you…" he starts, eyes softening at you. "i-i know we didn't talk much, but…i always cared for you." the last part was hard for harry to get out, a weight lifting off his shoulders in the process.

you were blushing, but more than that you were sweating. this is like something you would dream about as a kid. hell, even just earlier today…

"when i saw you today…in class…" he seemed uncomfortable referencing that. "i just…a lot of memories came back to me," his hands move with him nervously as he speaks.

he sighs and stands up, his body language clearly stressed. you haven't said a word, you simply can't. what could you possibly say?

harry's facing the fireplace, his head in his hands. "look, i just, now that i'm your professor this semester i just think…" he takes a moment to find the words before turning to you. "i had a crush on you. okay? there. god damn it," harry huffs angrily, rolling his head back as he throws his hands down.

"i had a crush on you for like 3 years, it was stupid, and i don't want it to affect my teaching with you. so…i guess i practically set up a fucking date to tell you this, sent hagrid away for the evening for nothing…" he gestures to the table, sighing in defeat.

you're stunned into silence, to say the least. there aren't words to describe what's going on in your head at this moment.

after a moment harry looks back at you, his gaze softening once again. "[y/n]...please understand i wouldn't be telling you any of this unless i thought there was another way i could deal with it. when i saw you today…it was like i was 16 again," a small smile creeps onto his face before he wipes it away.

"and if i didn't tell you now, it's all i would've thought about when i saw you, so…yeah. there." harry says with a huff, avoiding eye contact with you.

before you can even process what's going on, your body reacts for you. you stand up, walking over to harry, getting his attention off the floor. he looks at you almost with fear in his eyes at how close you are. you sigh shakily before speaking.

"harry…u-um, professor potter…" you correct yourself. "please, just, harry…for now at least," harry insisted, his eyes apologetic.

"harry…" you say, suppressing a grin. "you don't have to worry. really…um, it was definitely mutual, to put it lightly…"

harry gives you a surprised look. "really?"

you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him and towards the fire, enjoying the warmth. "harry, you forget who you are sometimes. essentially every girl i knew had a crush on you at one point."

harry's a little flustered at this statement, also taking a step closer to the fire, and towards you. "i-i wouldn't say that, i was definitely not that lucky back in the day," he jokes.

"so those girls that were practically all over you during class today…?" you tease him. "'oh, professor potter, what can i do to get a good grade?'" you mock their voices, giving him puppy dog eyes as you lean towards him before laughing and turning towards the fire. "is that not luck?" you ask with your arms crossed, a smirk hiding your slight jealousy.

harry's silent for a few moments before you look over at him. you see his eyes dark and fixated on you for just a second before he blinks and shakes his head at you, also turning to the fire. "please. they're children. they crush on any slightly older guy they see."

you roll your eyes again at his denial. "some of them were my age, well on their way to being 19. but, whatever you say."

the fire crackles in front of you two, filling the space and creating a warm glow. "besides…none of them are you." harry says. you look over at him, and he's lost staring at the fire. he feels you looking at him and quickly corrects himself. "i mean, nobody was like you, at least to me, back then…" he trails off awkwardly, wincing at his own choice of words.

you adore his nervous antics. he's just the same sweet, timid boy you remember, except he's a bit taller with a 5 o'clock shadow and looks gorgeous in the glow of a fireplace right now.

"i've really mucked this night up, haven't i? i was supposed to tell you about the crush calmly and professionally, with no inappropriate comments, and send you on your way into the night with your first reading in the textbook…" harry sighs, giving you a pathetic look.

"well…" you start. "your first mistake was probably leaving me a secret note, and cooking me a wonderful dinner," you gesture towards the table. harry lets out a pathetic laugh, shaking his head. "yeah, probably."

you don't know why you feel the need to, but you instinctively grab for harry's hand. he gives you a surprised, scared look.

you try to reassure him with a soft smile. "harry, i appreciate you telling me. i hope it can make this semester easier for you."

harry smiles in return, but it's not genuine. he looks like he's holding back from letting you know how he really feels.

regardless, he invited you two to finish up your food, laughing as you both attempted to resume casual conversation without the awkward air.

surprisingly, the two of you naturally begin to talk up a storm, reminiscing on memories and catching up on what's happened since then. harry tells you about his career as an auror and his experiences that lead him to being able to teach defense against the dark arts. when professor weasley's wife had died of sudden illness, the only person he wanted to take his place was harry.

you're hesitant to tell him about your lack of eventful news, practically hiding your face in embarrassment as you admit that your grades have been suffering since the war.

harry put a reassuring hand on your knee, his chair pushed closer to you. you had both long since finished dinner and just talked, enjoying the fire as harry continued to feed it wood every so often.

you looked up at him, melting at how adorable his tired eyes looked through his glasses. "i get it. trust me." he tells you. his voice puts you at ease, and you don't feel quite as embarrassed as before.

"maybe this semester i could help you. if you'd like, of course," harry offers. you smile. "of course."

as you're slowly making your way towards the door to leave, harry watches you search through your bag to find chapstick. as you're putting it on, he continues to watch you. you sneak a glance at him, his face soft and full of admiration.

"you know, if i may say, in the least inappropriate manner possible…" he says with a laugh, causing you to laugh with him. "you have truly only gotten more beautiful after all this time, [y/n]."

looking over at him, you can feel your face form a cheesy grin with blushing cheeks. "well, thank you, that's very kind," you say, putting your chapstick away and taking another step towards the door. "but, really, i should be saying the same about you."

harry waves you away, but you notice the smile planted on his cheeks. "please," he says sarcastically.

he reaches for the door to open it for you, and finds himself rather close to you by accident. you smile up at him, and he nervously steps back.

"u-uh, thank you for coming tonight, really, even if it was a bit weird…" harry says, an embarrassed laugh following. giggling with him, you take a step outside. "it was nice. but, no more invisible ink. just ask me from now on, okay?" you ask, still giggling at him.

harry shakes his head at himself. "will do."

you give him a warm smile before reaching in for a one-arm hug, resting your head on harry's shoulder for just a second before pulling back. "i'll see you tomorrow, professor potter." 

enjoying the shocked and flustered look on his face, you walk away still laughing, making your way up the hill and towards the castle. you heard the door shut behind you quickly after you left, but could feel harry's lingering eyes following you through the window the entire way back.

that night you're laying in bed trying to convince yourself everything that just happened wasn't a dream. if it weren't for your full stomach and muddy shoes sitting by your door you might've convinced yourself it really was all an illusion. rather than dreading the next day of classes, you're actually excited to wake up as it only means you'll see harry sooner.

though you're not sure exactly why. yes you'd had a friendly conversation with him tonight after he admitted his feelings towards you, which still hasn't quite settled in yet…but what happens now? he's still your professor for the next 5 months minimum, and you both know you used to like each other. harry might feel better getting it off his chest, but you were perfectly fine keeping that secret to yourself like you always had. if anything, now it's the only thing you're going to think about every day.

rolling over, you try to fall asleep without thinking about harry too much.

it had been a few weeks since you met with harry that night in hagrid's hut, and things were going…okay, so far.

well, to be completely honest, you had utterly fallen back into your crush on harry harder than you ever had before.

and you tried to stop yourself this time. really, you did. working with harry in class and then stopping by his office at least 3 times a week for his help in other classes was a lot of time to be spending with a professor, and you rather despised just how fast harry made your heart beat or how easily his eyes could distract you.

so you tried your best to convince yourself it was lingering feelings from your past self, even trying to have a crush on other boys in your year to distract your brain. that failed miserably. none of those boys were attractive or interesting on their own, especially in comparison to professor potter…

but you couldn't fool yourself. you still felt the same butterflies seeing harry now like you did in 5th year. when he's talking to you in the quiet of his office, reading your textbook to you, you feel like the only two people in the world. when he fixes your hands to hold the wand properly, or moves your arm for you in the correct pattern to cast a spell, you can't focus for the rest of class. if his eyes linger on you just a bit too long during one of his lectures, a knowing smile growing on his face, you melt in your seat.

there was no denying it. you liked him more now than you ever had before. maybe it's just the sheer amount of time you've spent with him this past month or so, but your feelings for him had never been this strong in the past. there were days where he was quite literally the only thing you thought about, or at least wanted to think about. though you were doing better in your other classes, it was only because of him. you spent barely any outside time putting effort into these classes because, ultimately, you were completely distracted by harry.

and not just the idea of him, but particularly the growing tension you had noticed between you two recently.

you also tried to convince yourself that this was going on in your head. but there were just too many instances of prolonged eye contact, harry sitting a bit too close to you during your tutoring sessions, and lingering hands on your skin that made you question if harry maybe wasn't entirely over his crush either…

not that you tried to make it easy for him. since the semester started, you've been taking some extra time each morning to perfect your hair/makeup, put on your favorite perfumes on days you knew you'd be close to harry, and would even change your outfit completely when going to study with him outside of your school robes to give you a boost of confidence.

not that you needed the boost. lately you could only feel confident in yourself and nothing less. something about learning your life long crush who seemed so unattainable also had feelings for you, and could possibly still, made you feel untouchable. not to mention that any girl you heard talk about him or swoon over him in class just made you laugh to yourself; they had no idea you were with him alone for hours every week goofing off together as he attempted to help you study.

this confidence made its way into other parts of your day outside of harry as well. you were talking more in class, making a few new friends, even going to parties and outings just for the fun of it. you were actually enjoying your time at hogwarts instead of dreading every day. not all because of harry, but it definitely didn't hurt to consider him a friend.

a friend. a professor. an old classmate. a crush. a temporary fixation. your relationship to harry, in your mind, seemed so complicated and sometimes incredibly frustrating. especially when he seemed to flirt with you so subtly. you couldn't stand the, 'is he, isn't he' thoughts. but, at the same time, it just made you more motivated to push the limits to see how he responded.

of course it started with looking good, enjoying his reaction seeing you each day with a small smile and blushing cheeks. then it was making flirtatious jokes and purposefully giving him innocent looks while he rambled about whatever subject to get him flustered and distracted. and, lately, you've stepped it up by wearing shorter and shorter skirts whenever you stop by his office, and have even caught him looking at your legs a number of times when he thinks you're not paying attention.

all this to say, there was definitely tension.

you had to admit you felt a bit guilty, you knew harry valued his position as a substitute professor and was enjoying his time there, and you would feel awful if anything ever happened to cost him this position. he told you about his crush specifically to alleviate it, and your only goal this semester has been to do the opposite.

but, at the same time, you wouldn't act this way if harry didn't also create tension between you two. he also made overtly flirty jokes and comments, even seeming a tad bit jealous whenever you mentioned another boy during your time together. and you weren't stupid, you could tell when he wore the cologne you complimented one time when you were around or had even changed from his school clothes before you came to see him. there was definitely something unspoken going on between the two of you, but you were both afraid of crossing that line and making things complicated. besides, if anything, you both seemed to enjoy this game you were playing of teasing each other in private and then acting normally during class as student and teacher.

honestly, you found it to be insanely erotic, and were more turned on in class than any other time you were with harry due to the secretive nature of everything. his longing gaze as you walk in, his nervous glances towards specifically you, the shift in his voice from talking to one student to talking to you, it was all so subtle yet in plain view. something about wanting what you can't have only made you want it more.

on this particular day, you had been with harry for over two hours studying for an exam for a class you had been struggling with all semester, even with harry's help. you were frustrated, laying your head in your arms with your textbook in front of you, groaning as harry chuckled at you. 

"c'mon, [y/n], you've got this. i mean, you did just fine on this last practice test, better than you have all semester really," harry comments, pulling the paper out of your folder. you lift your head up, giving him a mean look. "i got a 75. barely." you deadpan.

"yes, and that's better than what you have been getting." harry stated, trying to hide a smirk. you throw a crumpled up paper at him. "stop, that's not funny," you whine, also trying to hide your laugh.

chuckling, harry stands up and walks towards the bookshelf in his office. "look, i'm just trying to be encouraging here," he says over his shoulder as he scans the rows of books.

you try to get back to your work, but you're just so utterly confused and upset that you close the book with a huff and lean back in your seat with an exasperated expression. harry hears this and turns to you, giving you a sympathetic smile.

he walks back over, picking up the book in front of you and setting it in your bag. "here, we can be done for today. it's not good to push yourself past your limit."

you sigh as you push back the urge to tear up. "sometimes i just feel so stupid," you say in a soft, despondent voice, staring off into the window across from harry's desk.

harry's watching you intently, and nearly drops to his knees as he crouches beside your chair and catches your eyes in his. "hey, you're not stupid. quite the opposite, actually." he says with a genuine voice. you look away, still not believing him.

"really, [y/n], and i'm not saying this as your professor. back in school i was constantly listening to hermione go on and on about your intelligence and class rank. she was incredibly impressed and slightly envious that someone 2 years below her was actually providing some competition at this school." harry says with a laugh.

you can't help but blush like crazy at this confession. hermione had been your academic inspiration for all of your time at hogwarts, and even still now despite your declining lack of effort. you'd had quite a few conversations with her in the past about classes and certain books or authors you both enjoyed, but had no idea she thought that highly of you.

mulling over this information in your head, harry continued to grab your attention with a soft smile and loving eyes. "you're not stupid. different things are harder for different people. you'll get there, and i'll help you. okay?" he asks.

you smile back at him. "okay."

slowly packing up to leave, you and harry both take your time to gather your supplies as you chat about your respective plans for the weekend. you casually mention a party you were thinking of going to. harry perks up at this. "a party?" he asks, a twinge of concern laced in his voice.

you give him a look. "yeah, ever heard of it?" you ask sarcastically, laughing to yourself. "i guess it's one of the slytherin boys' birthdays, or something like that," you wave off, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "apparently it's going to be massive,"

harry continues looking at you with a hint of concern. "well, just…be safe, yeah?" harry comments, his voice uneasy. you laugh at him again, looking at him incredulously. "yes, professor potter, i'll be careful," you tease him. you know harry gets a little squirmy when you call him that outside of class, and it never fails to make you feel powerful.

"besides, i heard the theme is dress to impress, so you already know i'm gonna look so good," you joke, flipping your hair dramatically. harry's tenseness breaks, letting out a chuckle. "well, still. just…be safe." is all he manages to say as you walk with him to the door.

saying your goodbyes as you separate down the hall, you can still feel harry's eyes on you until you disappear around the corner.

the night of the party, you were still unsure if you wanted to go. when a couple girls from class saw you and asked if you were going, they ended up convincing you to come with them. so, you got changed into a flashy dress that fit you well, fixed up your hair and makeup a bit, and met them in the courtyard to walk to the slytherin common room together. they obsessively commented on your outfit, telling you just how good you looked and letting you know you'd have no problem finding a guy to snog tonight.

but, you don't want any guy tonight. if anything, you were walking slowly through the hallways hoping by some chance that harry would cross your path and see just how good you looked. but you knew you weren't that lucky.

upon arriving at the party, drinks are immediately pushed into your and your friends' hands. they were right about the party being massive, as every square foot of the slytherin common room was packed with slightly tipsy students of all ages dancing to the loud music. you had barely finished your first drink before your friends dragged you over to do shots with them, wincing at the burn it left in your throat afterwards.

as the night goes on, you're eventually separated from all the girls you came with. not on purpose, some of them were playing drinking games, some were dancing, and one had even left the party with a guy she was completely into. no hard feelings, everyone was just doing their own thing. you had a few shouting-over-the-music conversations with a couple classmates and drank another cup of the mysterious alcoholic punch being served before deciding to head back to your room. you informed one of your friends, who asked if you wanted her to come with you, but you insisted she stay.

entering the hallway is extremely sobering. the loud music and colorful lights made it easy to ignore the growing drunken sensation, but you were now nervously navigating the halls of hogwarts, slightly intoxicated, attempting to warm yourself up with your hands over your arms. you hadn't even thought to bring a jacket, of course, so you were shivering as you made your way back to your room.

not long after leaving the party, you turn the corner and come face to face with another person. a boy a year under you, though you couldn't remember his name or anything else about him. you're a bit startled, not expecting to see anyone else, but politely apologize and attempt to walk around him.

"hey. you were at the party, right?" he asks, stepping in front of you to prevent you from leaving. you're slightly annoyed by him already, but your intoxicated state makes you bite your tongue. "yeah, just on my way back to my room," you try to end the conversation there, taking another step to get around him.

but he gets in your way again, stepping even closer to you this time. "what's the rush? y'know you had every guy talkin' in there tonight? sure would be nice to take home the prize," he slurs into your face, your nose scrunching at his alcoholic breath. god, this kid's way more wasted than you.

"excuse me?" you scoff, turning your face away from him. he tries to put his hand on your waist but you slap it away as hard as you can, causing him to wince and give you an angry look. "i suggest you leave me the fuck alone," you announce firmly, stancing your feet apart as you get ready to defend yourself further.

just as this guy's about to try again, this time his hands going for your neck, a voice from down the hall echoes loudly, scaring you both. "hey!"

you both turn, and it's harry.

"i would further suggest you leave her alone, mr. williams," he announces as he swiftly walks towards you. the kid laughs him off. "mind your business, huh, potter? this doesn't involve you," he continues to slur, looking like he wants to fight as harry walks up to him, chest to chest.

"it does now. leave and you'll be lucky i don't have you expelled or rather arrested for sexually assaulting a fellow student on campus grounds after hours, while intoxicated might i add," harry spits at him, his eyes full of disgust and rage.

the kid falters a bit, but the alcohol still has him acting cocky, getting in harry's face. "yeah? or what," he asks daringly.

you get between them and put your wand, hidden in your dress, against the kid's throat, making him stiff with wide eyes. "touch him and i will gladly get expelled for hurting you in ways you couldn't even conceive of in your fucking nightmares. do you understand? get the fuck out of here!" you nearly shout at the kid, causing him to turn and run.

you sigh a breath of relief, but quickly begin to feel the anxiety return as you bring your wand down and look at harry.

you can feel your body shaking with anger and fear, and also shivering from how cold you hadn't realized you'd gotten. your cheeks were flushed, your breathing uneven, and nearly on the verge of tears. harry's eyes were still angry, but he gave you a sympathetic look. he promptly took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering frame, enveloping you in a hug in the process. it's hard not to let the tears flow just a bit as you rest your head in his chest. you felt so vulnerable with him in that moment.

"here, let's get you back to your room, yeah?" harry says softly, turning your shoulders and guiding you down the hall. you realize you had sobered up during the ordeal, your eyes focusing and walking straightening out as you follow the corridors. once harry begins guiding you down your hallway, you slow to look up at him with a curious expression.

"how do you know where my room is?"

harry's a bit stunned by your question, searching for an answer before you began to think more. "and, wait," you stop walking and turn to him. "how did you even find me?" you ask breathlessly. harry continues to look guilty as he searches for an answer. smirking, you pull his jacket on you closer.

"professor potter, if i didn't know better, i'd say you were watching me tonight," you tease him in a flirty voice. "surely that's not the case, is it?"

harry looks around you two nervously, clearly starting to feel anxious for his actions. all you could do was smirk. you knew he still liked you.

harry sighs, avoiding your eye contact with a completely red face. "look, i just had a bad feeling about that party, okay?" he says simply. you continue to stare at him with a knowing look. "i couldn't sleep tonight knowing something could've happened to you. something like that fucking kid…" harry gets worked up just thinking about it again before stopping himself and calming down. "i'm sorry. it was wrong of me, and completely inappropriate."

your smirk drops into a soft smile. you can't help but feel your stomach erupt into butterflies hearing him admit he was watching you tonight specifically to make sure you were safe.

you softly put your hand to his cheek, causing him to look at you. he looks apologetic, concerned, and sad, his eyes searching yours as he slightly leans into your touch.

"thank you, harry." you say just above a whisper, your voice genuine and loving.

he sighs again, a bit relieved, a bit sad. his hand goes for yours, holding it for just a moment before he gives it back to you, letting go as he looks towards your door.

"well," he starts off, his voice cracking. "i'll leave you here for the night,"

smiling, you nod and take a step towards your door. you slip his jacket off of you and hand it back to him with a grateful, warm smile. he returns the smile as you're opening your door and waving goodbye at him.

as you're getting ready for bed, you replay the events of tonight over and over. you imagine harry watching you leave your room without you having any clue, meeting up with your friends, leaving the party in a daze, attempting to escape that guy before harry decided he had to step in and protect you.

you felt a bit silly for ever thinking harry's crush on you had stopped. even his subtle clues weren't very subtle thinking back now. maybe back in year 5 you assumed you were crazy for thinking he was looking at you funny, but now, nearing 3 years later, and learning he's liked you the whole time, you couldn't deny his longing gaze.

laying in bed, you decided you had to properly thank harry in some way for tonight, and you knew exactly how.

the next day, you paid a special visit to diagon alley with a friend to buy something special for harry. when she asked why you would ever possibly buy something like that for yourself, you make up some story about needing it for a class. she doesn't believe you, but goes along with it anyway and continues to have fun with you on your sunday out shopping.

you head towards his office in the afternoon when he usually spends his time grading assignments and working on the following week's lesson plan. you practically had his schedule memorized after coming to study with him so often.

softly knocking on the door, harry lets out a, "come in,"

you enter the office and he smiles at you immediately before it falters, his eyes then landing on the wrapped box in your hands. "surprise," you say with a shy voice.

he lets out a huff, looking back at you with a disbelieving expression. "[y/n]..." he carries off.

"it's just a little something," you say as you walk towards his desk, setting it down carefully in front of him. "a thank you, for last night," you tell him.

his eyes move back and forth from the box to your eyes, not knowing what to say. a few moments pass before he stands. "[y/n], i can't accept this…" he sighs. "what i did last night, i mean…it shouldn't have happened that way," he says curtly.

you tilt your head to catch his gaze, giving him a warm smile. "you did nothing wrong," you reassure him. you gesture to the gift. "please," you insist.

harry's shoulders relax, giving you an embarrassed smile as he slides the box closer to him, admiring the wrapping. "this is gorgeous, did you do this?" he asks, pointing at the sparkly ribbon and personalized name card. you proudly smile and nod your head.

harry admires it for another moment before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. he gasps at what he sees.

a signed, hardcover, gold leaf detailed first edition defense against the dark arts textbook from his favorite auror. he had talked to you about seeing it at the bookshop but not wanting to spend the money or not having the place to display it or whatever his excuse was. you had taken note of this comment and when you saw it wasn't as expensive as harry had made it seem you knew it was perfect.

"[y/n]...you didn't…" he utters, practically falling back in his chair as he continues to stare at the cover. you giggle fondly at his reaction. "go ahead, open it up," you tell him excitedly. he can hardly move, but he eventually takes the book out of the box and admires it in his hands. he flips the cover open, sees the signature, and smiles. then, he looks at the inside of the cover and his expression drops.

"i had it personalized, if that's okay with you," you ask anxiously. on the inside of the leather bound cover you had a pressing engraved that said 'harry james potter'.

harry's in shock, his fingers running across the pressing softly. "[y/n], this is…" he trails off, continuing to admire the book as he flips through it, landing back on the inside cover, admiring his name once more.

"thank you." harry says, looking at you with so much love in his eyes it makes your heart burst. it was worth every penny seeing him in awe in front of you like this.

"well, thank you," you respond, smiling, holding your arms behind your back.

harry abruptly stands up, stepping around his desk and pulling you in for a desperate hug. you're a bit surprised, your arms wrapping around his waist as he continues to pull you closer and closer.

after a minute or so of the most comforting hug you've experienced outside of last night in that hallway, harry separates from you only slightly to look down at you. your faces are close enough to feel the breath of the other person.

you just want to tell him, 'fuck it, who cares, nobody's here, just kiss me, please, release this tension', but before you can even consider it, harry breaks the silence.

"i still love you," he says so softly, his face wincing as the words fall from his lips. your breath hitches. love?

"fuck," harry mutters, almost stepping away from you until you pull him closer to you, putting your lips close enough to his they're nearly touching. "please. kiss me. just kiss me. please." you practically beg, your hand finding its way to harry's neck.

"[y/n], we can't, i can't–" "just once, please, maybe it'll stop if we just, please…" you interrupt him, hoping he understands what you're implying, your noses rubbing together.

harry takes a few moments before practically whimpering as he connects your lips to his, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you immediately melt into him, letting the kiss consume you as your hands pull harry closer to you.

it only takes a few seconds before harry has you up on his desk, his hands gripping your ass under your skirt. the cold of the wood on your exposed skin makes you gasp, and harry's tongue quickly slips past your lips.

it's everything you imagined, and the fact that this is happening in his office is just making you even more turned on. you had played this scenario in your head so many times, and it hardly felt real once it was actually happening. and on the desk you spent so many hours at, pining over him and fantasizing him taking you like he is right now.

after a few minutes of making out and needy groping through your clothes, harry pulls away breathlessly. opening your eyes you see he's completely flushed, his hair slightly messy as he nervously takes his hands off you.

you awkwardly clear your throat, your hands falling to your sides and resting back on the desk. harry takes a step away, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. you hop off his desk and adjust your skirt.

the silence between you is awkward, but there's just nothing to say. the kiss only left you wanting more, of course, it was pointless to ever hope it would quell your feelings in some way.

"well," harry begins, his voice shaky and quiet. "that didn't work."

you let out a nervous laugh, coughing to cover it up. "yeah…sorry." you mumble.

harry sighs. "no, i'm sorry. i'm technically your superior, i shouldn't be doing this to you. leading you on, flirting with you, for fuck's sake, following you around after hours…"

you shake your head. "look, i'm not kissing professor potter, okay? i like you, harry. i've liked you since i was 13. i don't want to ruin your position here either, and i'll stop if that's what you truly want…" you choke up just a bit before swallowing it back. "but, just, please, stop blaming yourself. i want this, too."

the silence returns, harry clearly thinking over what you said as his eyes stare off beside you. you're anxiously shifting your weight, watching his face get lost in his own thoughts.

"i can't risk this job," harry says finally. "i don't give a shit about the money, pay me everything in the world i would still want you…" he mumbles. you feel your stomach drop at this sentiment. you want him so, so badly. but… 

"but…" harry says.

you smile at him sadly, knowing what's coming. "i can't let down bill, or mcgonagall, or any professors or students here who may actually still like me," he says with a dry laugh. "if we ever got caught, and i just know we would, and what would happen to you…i just–" "i know, harry," you interrupt him, taking a small step towards him.

he smiles at you sadly as well. "and i agree. it's not worth it. well, you're worth it, of course…" you say shyly, diverting your gaze before continuing. "but, it's too risky. you deserve to finish out this semester without that hanging over your head, y'know?"

harry stares at you lovingly, no attempt to hide his adoration for you in this moment. "you're truly incredible. you know that?" harry comments softly.

you respond by blushing and crossing your arms. he hums softly, his smile taking over his cheeks. "thank you, really, for everything, if things were any different, i wish…" harry stumbles. you smile at him again. "i know."

harry returns to his gift, admiring the book in his hands over and over before putting it on the bookshelf next to his desk. he admires it there for a while as well before thanking you again.

as you're getting ready to leave, harry stops you for a moment. "if you don't mind, i'd still love to help you in your other classes. and, just, remain friendly in general still, if possible…"

you melt again at his soft demeanor. harry's such a sweetheart it's heartbreaking. all you want is to kiss him again. it's all you've wanted since he stopped.

"of course."

it's the end of the semester, and you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand you're dying for a break from classes. you've done the best you have in years this semester, and it's exhausted you. but you're incredibly grateful, for a lot of things. your new friends, your rediscovered love for hogwarts and magic in general, your overall improved attitude and mentality.

with special thanks to a certain substitute professor…

harry. this semester was definitely a rollercoaster for you when it came to harry. though, towards the end, things fell into place a bit more as you both accepted and embraced your odd, yet effective routine. professional student-professor relationship in public; smitten, teasingly love-sick old classmates in the comfort of his office walls. nothing further than lingering hands, loving stares, and the occasional compliment towing the line of what's inappropriate and what isn't.

though the dynamic wasn't ideal, you grew to love it for what it was. a simple, longing love that wasn't exactly unspoken anymore, but sure felt like it each passing day as you both pretended that kiss never happened.

that kiss. you swear you think about it every day. you long for harry to grab you like that again, to slip his tongue past your lips again…sometimes, late at night, it's all you can think about. sometimes just the thought of it makes you need to touch yourself, remembering how desperate he was for you, the feeling of his lips on yours, sitting on his desk in his office, just the image of it from outside of your own perspective could bring you to your orgasm alone in your room.

to say you were anxiously counting down the days until classes were over and harry technically wasn't employed with hogwarts anymore was an understatement. though you hadn't spoken about it with him, you felt it was okay to maybe consider that he would want to continue things further with you once his substitution was over. you kept your guard up as you knew he could still be uncomfortable with it while you were a student in general. but a large portion of you was practically praying that wasn't the case. you physically couldn't resist him much longer.

you were staying on campus for christmas this year, mostly just to savor your last holiday here, but also to continue seeing harry if possible.

it was the last day of classes, and you learned you passed all your exams with flying colors. you showed up to dark arts class early to inform harry excitedly, and he congratulated you with the same level of excitement.

"i knew you could do it! i told you you were smart." he beams. "i am so, so proud of you, [y/n]."

you want to hug him so badly, he's helped you so much this semester, you wouldn't have cared enough to try and get these kinds of grades without his guidance. but it's too public, and the risk is too high, so you just settle on an awkward high five and laugh emptily.

as other students walk in, you both pretend the moment never happened, and you sit in your seat without looking up from the floor.

the class is simple and rather uneventful as it's mostly everyone's last class of the semester. harry actually hands out christmas cookies hagrid made for everyone, and they're mediocre in taste, but the designs are so adorable you can't resist finishing it.

harry gives you all a speech thanking the class for trusting him to teach this semester, and for being respectful of him and professor weasley's lessons. he talks about how he's always thought about being a professor, but actually ended up despising the paperwork, and just missed his old job, which caused the class to chuckle with him.

he dismissed everyone with a happy christmas, specifically towards you, of course.

your heart aches a little as you leave the classroom and head to your room. you're going to miss harry as a professor, even if it caused complications in other aspects, it was inspiring to see him be so intelligent, helpful, and supportive in class. of course you were biased, you always found him to be amazing, but something about watching him teach a young wizard how to do a spell correctly for the first time just made you admire him so deeply.

you decided to rest for the night, knowing harry would be here for at least another day to collect all his items and clean the classroom up for professor weasley. you could talk to him then, what exactly about you weren't sure just yet, but you knew you had to tie up these loose ends before they drove you mad.

the next afternoon, you're practically one of the only students roaming the halls. most everyone leaves the first day of break to go home, and by christmas there's only a handful of students left.

arriving at harry's office door, you admire it one last time. your little sanctuary away from the world.

you knock, but to your dismay, there's no answer.

you knock again, a bit louder, but still, nothing. you decide to peak in, and notice how barren the desk looks from afar.

fuck. there's no way harry's left without speaking to you first.

you quickly walk to the dark arts classroom just down the hall, hoping he's cleaning and organizing it, but find it empty and dark. your heart sinks. he's gone.

you slowly walk back to your room, deciding you'll grab your coat and visit hagrid to see if harry's with him there. you try not to let your disappointment overcome you, there's still a chance you could talk to him…

entering your room, you immediately head for your coat rack by the window. you start to slip it on when you hear your door close, knowing you left it open on purpose to quickly leave.

you turn around, and it's harry.

you gasp, immediately dropping the coat and running to him, jumping into a hug. he laughs at your reaction, but embraces you nonetheless.

"hi, love," he says softly, resting his head on top of yours. you could hardly contain yourself at the pet name. it communicated so much to you with so little effort.

you look up at him, barely able to believe what's happening. harry looks at you knowingly. this unspoken tension. it was going to be the death of you.

as harry begins leaning in, you crash your lips together with his, immediately engulfing him into a heated, wanting, needing kiss.

harry's more than happy to give in to you. it's clear he's thought about this just as much as you have. he finished all his professor duties as soon as he could so he could officially, finally, be yours.

you guide harry to your bed, pushing him onto it as he gives you an impressed look, clearly intrigued by your repressed desperation.

you crawl onto his lap, immediately pulling him back into the kiss. harry's hands are all over you, finally, after fantasizing about it every night in this very same bed for months.

the kiss is desperate, full of moaning and getting sloppier by the minute. harry's squeezing and slapping your ass so hard you whimper in his arms, your hands gripping his button up tightly.

"fuck, [y/n], need you so bad, please," harry moans into your kiss, his hands sliding up your back. you reach to take your shirt off, left in just a bra and tiny skirt, as you start untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

harry's staring at you with hunger in his eyes. "do you even understand how badly i've wanted you? you and these fucking skirts, you must think i'm stupid." he growls, pulling at the hem of your skirt. you blush and stifle a giggle, overwhelmed with how insanely hot you found this to be.

"think that's funny? you think it was funny when i had to stand in class all day and not stare at your perfect legs through your robe? anytime i gave a lecture and just looking at you turned you into a needy slut," harry grabs your hair, turning your attention to him as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt with his other hand. "was that fun for you, hm? did you enjoy teasing me all semester?"

you can't say anything. all you can do is nod. you were so turned on you could hardly think straight.

"i bet it was," he says, examining your desperate expression, his words dripping with desire.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and you help him take off his shirt. his skin was warm, soft, and his shoulders were broad. you moved your lips to his neck, leaving an obvious bite just below his collar to finally mark what was yours.

harry groans, his hands reaching behind your back to swiftly undo your bra. he helps pull it off of you, marveling at your chest. "beautiful," he tells you before attaching his lips to your skin. you hold his head against you, savoring the feeling and sight of harry leaving hickeys along the soft skin of your boobs.

his hand cups one softly as his tongue circles your nipple, watching you through his glasses as you melt into his hands. "harry…" you moan, your hand running through his soft hair.

he continues, starting to suck on your nipple softly with closed eyes, his other hand pulling up your skirt to feel your wetness through your panties.

you immediately whimper and lean into harry's touch, desperate for this for so long. "f-fuck," you stutter breathlessly.

harry smiles, taking his lips off of you to look up at your blushing face. "so wet already," he smirks.

you cover his face with your hands, embarrassed, giggling, continuing to further lean into his hand for pleasure.

he laughs and removes your hands, his eyes full of lust just looking at you in his lap.

"i need you, now," he insists, pushing you further onto his growing erection through his slacks. you let out a breathy moan feeling just how hard he is already. he's just as desperate as you've been for him.

"is that okay?" he asks carefully, watching for your reaction. you laugh a bit. "please. i've waited long enough." you joke.

you help harry take his pants and boxers off, as well as your skirt and panties, leaving you both naked in your room.

he sat back down on the bed, and invited you into his lap again. "just like this is perfect," he says, guiding your hips and admiring your body as you sit with his cock between you two, your eyes barely able to look away from it.

harry pulls you in for a kiss, his hands traveling over your body and stopping at your pussy again, his hand feeling just how wet you are. he moans into your kiss along with you and begins to slip his fingers inside of you, slowly, letting you react to him.

harry pushes further and further into you until you're practically riding his hand, your kiss barely kept together with you bouncing, desperate for more. "please," you insist, your hand gently grasping for his precum soaked cock.

harry smiles, gently pulling his fingers away before letting you guide yourself onto him. slowly at first, you enjoy the feeling of harry's cock stretching you open, whimpering as he watches you intently, his hands supporting your hips. eventually you feel yourself take him completely, your hips flush with his as you start to slowly grind your hips up and down.

harry's a mess, barely able to hold himself together just watching you adjust to his cock. your face twisting in pleasure, your soft whimpers, the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing around him, it was almost too much already.

"fuck, baby," harry's moaning, his hands gripping your hips for sanity. you can't help but giggle, you just love seeing him like this for you after dreaming about it for so long. he's so lost in pleasure already, his jaw slack and eyes dropping.

"i-i'm already, fuck [y/n], you're just so," harry can barely get the words out. hearing him moan your name so filthily motivated you to move your hips quicker, letting your tits bounce in his face as you continued to pick up speed.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's panicking, you can tell he's already trying to hold back his orgasm. you find it extremely hot just how quickly you can bring him to this point. so hot it brings you closer to your orgasm with him, putting your hands on his face to look up at you.

"you feel so fucking good, harry," you tell him, your head rolling back in pleasure. he's in awe of you, his eyes memorizing every single inch of you as you continue to ride him.

"please, please, can you, um…" he takes a second between his words to moan. "please, can you call me professor potter…" he asks, clearly embarrassed by the request.

you rub his blushing cheeks between your hands, his question only making you more turned on. you loved knowing he was just as into the teacher/student dynamic as you had been.

"your cock feels so…so fucking good inside of me, professor potter," you moan, resting your forehead against harry's as you slow your pace, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of him.

harry's eyes roll back, sinful moans escaping his lips as his head falls forward, watching you ride him slowly as he begins slightly thrusting up into you. he looks back up at your eyes, exasperated. "i'm gonna cum if you don't stop," he quietly warns you, clearly feeling a bit guilty at his eagerness.

you smile. "please, please cum for me professor. i've been such a good girl for you this semester, haven't i?" you tease him. 

harry groans pathetically. "so, so good," his eyes are closed, his face twisting with each thrust. "then cum for me, please, give it to me," you beg him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your stomach tensing from your own orgasm.

harry's eyes pop open, his gaze on you softening as his hands find your waist, gripping onto you desperately. "[y/n]..." he moans your name again, and you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. your pace becomes a bit slower as your legs start shaking.

harry moans as he starts to spill inside of you, the warm sensation fueling your orgasm as you both hold onto each other tightly, riding out your highs together.

after a few moments of slow grinding and weak kissing, you carefully stand up from your position on harry's lap. you guide him to your bathroom, where you help each other clean up, with a few more inevitable kisses and longing hugs along the way.

you get dressed into different clothes, and offer harry some as well. he declines, instead putting his clothes back on as he tells you he has to bring all his supplies back to his house.

you help him button his shirt back up and tie his tie before pushing yourself to ask the dreaded question you didn't want to know the answer to.

"so," you say softly. "what now?"

harry looks down at you lovingly, but he isn't quite smiling. "well, i'm no longer employed here," he states. you nod your head slowly, allowing him to continue.

"so, while it's not technically wrong, i'd still like to try and take this off campus, if possible," harry chuckles.

you give him a surprised look. "you want to see me again?" you ask quietly. harry can't help but laugh at you, kissing your forehead as he holds your cheek.

"you have no idea," is all he says before he leans in for another kiss, holding you close, knowing you're finally his.

#harry potter #harry potter au #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #golden trio #harry james potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter x y/n #harry james potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter headcanon #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter fluff #harry james potter oneshot #harry james potter smut #hp smut #hp fluff #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp #hp fandom #marauders fandom #smut #mine #harry potter x you #x reader #harry potter moodboard

[ipseitydelrey]

headcanons: dating spencer reid ♡

(i’m so totally normal about this man)

ship spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings mentions of schizophrenia & alzheimer’s

a/n thought this would be a good first post! interaction would be appreciated, but your readership would be enough! enjoy~

★ he regularly gives you books he has read, completed with small annotations.

★ to go with the previous headcanon, you would give him more modern books you enjoy as opposed to the classical/foreign ones he gifts.

★ expect for your first couple of dates to be more awkward (he has definitely asked derek for advice on more than one occasion).

★ he makes it a point to learn all that he can about whatever you like at the moment, even if he himself isn't into it/doesn't understand the appeal. it's mostly just so he can connect with you more and to share fun facts about your interests.

★ he's awful at cooking, but once or twice, he has definitely attempted to cook a homemade meal for you two as a romantic gesture. you both decided that what he made wasn't edible, but you appreciated the attempt and ordered takeout instead.

★ weekly bookstore visits! half of the time you would go to barnes & noble for your literary needs, but you two also enjoy supporting local bookstores (+ they tend to have rare books too).

★ when you two are cuddling, he loves it when you run your fingers through his hair and give him a head massage; it really helps with his migraines.

★ convention is in town? best believe that you two are wearing matching cosplays, especially if the characters you're dressing up as is canonically a couple.

★ spencer doesn't just ask derek; he also asks penelope and jj for advice too.

★ on the first couple of dates he generally avoided touching, but now? he can't get enough of you, how warm you are and how soft your hands are.

★ much like how he tends to go on a tangent, he loves it and listens intently whenever you infodump about a topic you're interested in.

★ antique stores! you both find the atmosphere lovely and you would get gifts for each other there.

★ his love language is praise, both giving and receiving. he wants to make sure you feel loved and wanted. even when it's something small, like getting him coffee for example, he'll go on and on about how wonderful you are, how good you are to him and how much he loves and adores you.

★ on the receiving end, he'll absolutely melt if you give him reassurance that you reciprocate his love. and if you hold him — cup his cheeks or wrap your arms around his waist — while whispering praises? as emily said, IQ of 187 slashed down to 60.

★ the first time he said "i love you" was sort of an accident. he had just come back from a case and he was so tired that he collapsed into your arms and you had to drag him to bed. you were making sure he was comfortable and in his delirious state he mumbled "love you" in the sleepiest voice imaginable.

★ movie nights! whenever it's his turn, he either picks some pretentious, foreign language, criterion collection, 3+ hour film...or he just puts on reruns of star trek or doctor who.

★ when you moved in with him, you both had to buy another bookshelf. both because of the books strewn around spencer's apartment that were unable to be shelved due to overcrowding, and to fit your books there too.

★ he's super worried about doing something wrong. this is probably his first actual serious relationship, so he's being extra cautious to not accidentally insult or hurt you. over time, he learns to relax around you but the worry is still there, just in small doses.

★ he doesn't really like PDA, but he makes up for the lack of it with tons of hugs, kisses, and close contact in private (specifically at home, but anywhere private will do).

★ whenever you two go out and you want to wear formal attire, he'll help you with putting it on! he'll zip up your dress, help tie your tie, fasten your necklace, maybe help with cuff links. he absolutely loves being able to assist you with anything, no matter how small.

★ he was definitely worried when he brought you to go meet his mom for the first time, so he made sure to pick a day where she would be in one of her good moods and also told you everything he knows about schizophrenia and alzheimer's. he was thankfully relieved when his mom liked you and vice versa.

★ a bit corny, but he loves reciting love poems to you. this can also extend to passages from books that discuss romantic love; he has an eidetic memory after all and he's going to put it to good use!

#★ sei’s headcanons #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds headcanons #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #x you #x y/n #headcanon #fanfic

[opuspace]

Being a Halsin fan is....a unique experience in that you're frequently prone towards running into all sorts of taunts and insults from being called "mentally ill" for liking him because people assume you're into his "deviant behavior" to hearing that there's only "7 romances" because he doesn't count, to hearing that he's a sex pest, constant reminders of how players kill him in a feedback or fan thread about him, him being seen as fit for only being left as "Orin bait" by a few Astarion fans (who hate him because they see him as a sex pest) when I'm meanwhile turning Astarion down only to run into Astarion canonically admitting that he sees Tav's denial of consent as a "dire mistake to be corrected":

Or, frequently running into complaints as to why he's there when Jaheira is around for the Druid role (he was around first so it's clear why they're not acknowledging that).

"He's just fanservice that didn't need to be there! Why can't we have Alfira?!"

"We could have had a werewolf instead of him?! Wasted opportunity!" (Fans datamined that and discovered that Helia was dropped long before they added Halsin so it wasn't a toss up between them that fans think)

"He's a cheater trying to get you to cheat!"

Ironically, another fan found a post that not only was this wrong, Shadowheart and Astarion approve of the player sexually harassing a married NPC:

His point and click lines have still not been fixed despite requests to address them for months now.

Requests for more depth from his days in Early Access has not happened.

Pleas to Larian to please fix the writing that has him making fans uncomfortable has only just now been addressed but the damage has been done.

I see all these moments that get other characters amusement and affection while seeing Halsin vilified for stuff that doesn't even happen. I see acknowledgement that Gale's Weave scene was a bug, Wyll's dance scene where you couldn't avoid him trying to kiss you as "not a big deal" (until they were corrected) and I agree, that's exactly what they were: unintended side effects of poorly thought out writing/coding/scripting.

And yet, Halsin's presence has to be justified every step of the way.

There is so little sympathy for this character. So little sympathy for fans of this character. It even feels like Larian wrote him off when their attempt to make him a companion backfired.

I'm not even sure why fans want more romances added when this one ended with such hostility. I'd rather they fix and expand on the current romances like Wyll's, Minthara's and, yes, Halsin's (he does count as a romance).

#bg3 fandom critical #astarion critical #larian critical #halsin

[thatonepeppi]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧gale dekarios head canons✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

I CANNOT stop thinking about this man, so I'm going to dump all of my thoughts here, enjoy :)

the format is odd, I have not written in some time, excuse me :3

☾ after the final battle

⋆ after the final battle, the two of you go back to your own room in the Elf Song Tavern, not before a very much needed shower that is. You two care for each other, chatting slowly and longingly at what your next moves are like the two of you have all the time in the world -and now you do.

⋆ Gale tiptoes around the subject of Waterdeep. He longs to be home, he's been picturing you this entire time in his home, doing everything. Making love, cooking for you, having tea in the mornings, how you would look in his bed as the sunlight and the moonlight creep in. Gale wants that life with you desperately, something simple and cozy, and with love in every action.

"Are you still there?" Tav asks, "My hair feels very clean now, especially in that particular spot."

In the midst of his reverie, a subtle "Hmm?" escaped from Gale's lips, abruptly awakened from a trance, "Oh, apologies, Dearest. A lot on my mind -- well I guess not so much anymore," He laughs quietly, rinsing off the bubbles in their hair, fingering through their strands of hair. Wherever Tav was needed, he would be sure to follow, he was certain of it. But still, he was homesick.

Tav frowns, "What's wrong, Love?" They lean into Gale, "You can talk to me, about anything."

Minutes slipped by like grains of sand in an hourglass until Gale finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tav," he began, hesitating as if unsure of his own words, "I... I miss home. Waterdeep," He looks away, "Wherever you go, know that I will follow and happily too. Whether it be another adventure, here in Baldur's Gate, your own home. For you, I would sleep on the ground again, as long as your warm presence is there with me," He looks at them, nothing but warmth and sincerity in his words and in his eyes, "I love you, wherever we go, or wherever you are."

Tav's heart ached at the confession, the weight of Gale's homesickness palpable in the steam-filled air. Without hesitation, they reached out, clasping Gale's sun kissed and freckled hands in a gentle reassurance, giving them a gentle kiss.

"I know, my love," Tav murmured, their voice soft as a caress. "We can go home whenever you're ready. I'll be right here, by your side, every step of the way."

In that moment, as Gale's eyes met theirs with a mixture of gratitude and relief, Tav realized that home wasn't just a place—it was the warmth of their shared love, cocooned in the sanctuary of the bath, and where they found solace in each other's embrace. And though Gale longed for the familiar sights and sounds of Waterdeep, Tav knew that their love would be their anchor, no matter where their adventures took them in the realms.

☾ home

⋆ Gale is giddy from the start of the morning hopping off the massive ship the two of you took to get to Waterdeep. He takes your hand in his as he guides you down his city, excitingly pointing out all the areas he promises to take you once the two of you are settled.

⋆ Stepping into Gale's tower, you are immediately embraced by a whimsical antiquity, the cozy allure of a bygone era evident in every corner. Soft candlelight bathes the space, casting dancing shadows that whisper tales of adventure. Books adorn every surface, their well-loved pages holding secrets and enchantments, while antique treasures dot the shelves, each one a nostalgic relic of older times. Through the grand balcony, the endless expanse of the ocean stretches out, its rhythmic waves a soothing melody. Ships setting sail, the grunts of the dockhands as they tie these giant ships to their posts. In this enchanting haven, amidst the warmth of history and the timeless beauty of the sea, you find a sanctuary unlike any other. Home.

⋆ After settling in, you experience a life like no other. Gale is incessant on cooking you breakfast almost every morning. He knows how to prepare your morning coffees and afternoon teas by heart. Mornings are for the two of you to lounge in bed, holding each other, listening to the crashing waves, feeling that cool—salty breeze caress your warm bodies.

⋆ Breakfast is eaten over the occasional game of lance board on the grand mahogany table. The two of you recounting your adventures, encounters and memories. Gentle caresses and soft laughter are a welcome guest at breakfast. Even at the dinner table it seems like the two of you can't keep your hands off of each other.

⋆ Tara finds her way back home not long after. Its the very early morning, and a rare day where Gale is still in bed. You walk over to the tressym pawing at the large window, demanding to be let in. You smile as you let her in, and her furry body hurriedly makes her way inside.

"About time you let me in, I've been howling for hours, Darling, I feel parched!" The winged cat says, "I was not told that the two of you made it back, what a journey. Luckily for you, I am quite the magical tresseym, a simple spell like the one I invented is no match for miles and miles of road and walking," Tara trails off, making herself at home and out of earshot, you can still hear her grumpy rambling however, "Tav Dekarios!" She yells and you hurry over to see her sitting, licking herself next to an elegant white bowl on the floor, "My dish needs water."

You fill her dish with cold water, making sure to also refill her food bowl, you smile at the thought of you taking Gales last name already, hopefully you and Tara can foster a good relationship.

"And where is Mr. Dekarios currently?," Tara says stretching.

"Still in bed, and very warm if you would like to snuggle up to him."

Tara meows excitingly, "Oh, that sounds divine, Dear. Thank you ever so kindly for keeping him warm," She says as you start to get up, "But before you go Ms/Mr/Mx Dekarios, there is something very important that you must learn. Something that will quickly earn your favor with me."

"And what would that be Ms. Tara?" You question, facing down at the tressym, still at ground level with her.

She looks at you with widened pupils, "A good scratch behind this tressyms ears would be delightful, I will show you how but only once! This is known as my 'Due' and it's been made clear to me that you are quite the capable person to be entrusted with such a delicate procedure," Tara leans her head down and closes her little eyes. She rubs her ears with her paws to show you exactly how she wants to be pet, but to you, it looks like she's just cleaning herself, "You see? Like this, Dear, gently but also with some vigor." She looks back at you, "Your turn, but you must remember the technique."

You smile at the tressym, before going to scratch her behind the ears, silently praying that you are doing something right. She purrs and leans into your hand, making a sweet little content face as it looks like she's getting lost in the scratch.

Tara abruptly stops and clears her throat, "That will have to do, thank you," She trails off into you and Gales shared room. You hear a faint, "Mr. Dekarios! I have arrived!" in a little sing-song voice, and then a groan from a very sleepy Gale.

⋆ Some of your items find their way into the house, Gale is sure to make space for you to fit you into his home. Your shirts sometimes get mixed up, "Is this my book or yours?" is a common question.

⋆ He loves seeing your personality fill his house, items depending on your class are scattered around the tower. If you are a druid, house plants are hung from the ceiling, there is a small succulent on Gale's desk (It replaces Mystra's statue.).

⋆ If you are a bard, he loves to hear your music throughout the house. Gale loves to hear your song from the balcony as he's reading. He buys you sheet music, new strings, equipment. He could listen to you for hours, and most days he does.

⋆ Gale is interested in your interests and makes sure to make time for you to listen to you about your favorite topics. Being seen and heard is very important to him.

⋆ Over time, he does lose the earring. He finds one that reminds him of you. A music note, a sword, a small plant stud, or just about anything that he would relate to you.

⋆Gale loves you more than anything and he wants to make that very clear, even if you feel like these small reminders of Mystra don't bother you, he would rather having something that would make him think of you rather than her.

--

Thank you sm for reading, friends!! its been very long since ive written something and this isn't proof read >.< hope it was okay. Love you!!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x tav #tav #gale #bg3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #love the third person and first person #its 3 am leave me alone #also I love tara SM #she's adorable #tara the tressym

[forestdeath1]

Regulus wasn't forced by his parents to join the Death Eaters

What do we know about the Black family? I'll write a post about this because there's quite a bit we know if we read the canon in depth.

But the main point for this post is that for the Blacks, the survival and prosperity of their lineage were critically important.

The survival of their surname was in a precarious state at that time because women did not keep their surname nor pass it on to their children. Only two people could continue the line – Sirius and Regulus.

Preserving their lineage was so crucial for the Blacks that they didn't officially disown Sirius after his escape, or they reinstated him after Regulus's death. Because Sirius was the last Black. The last one who could carry on their line. Even if he was a rebellious Gryffindor who liked "mudbloods," he was still a Black.

When Sirius died, even the portrait was upset, although it's not alive. It's simply a reflection of the Blacks' attitude towards the survival of their lineage.

Am I to understand,’ said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry’s left, ‘that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?’

‘Yes, Phineas,’ said Dumbledore.
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Phineas brusquely.
Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house ...

By the time Regulus was 16, Sirius had already run away from home.

Now, explain to me, all you fans of the "Regulus was forced" idea, what would be going through Orion and Walburga's heads to make them push their last hope for the continuation of their lineage into joining a combat organization where people are constantly being killed?

Considering they didn't join themselves because they disliked the methods and probably understood Tom's real goals.

Walburga was in school with Tom Riddle and was two years older than him. Orion Black was also in school with Tom, but he was two years younger. By that time, Tom Riddle aka Voldemort, hadn't yet changed his appearance to the point of being unrecognizable. They all knew who Voldemort was. Tom Riddle. An orphan boy. Likely, they knew he was the heir of Slytherin, which was important for the Blacks because, for them, it wasn't about money but about blood. True nobility and dignity are in the blood, not wealth. The Blacks aren't the Malfoys. And as Sirius said, at some point, they were inspired by Tom's ambition to change the situation in their country, although Sirius obviously knew very little about Voldemort, as he was hardly discussed in front of the children. But initially, the Blacks were inspired because he was worthy, the heir of Slytherin, right?

Probably Orion, Arcturus/Pollux realized that Tom didn't care about blood purity. He cared about his own power. By the time they understood this, Tom's power was already too strong, and he had won much support among the pure-blood society, who believed he genuinely cared about pure-blood wizards.

Why did Sirius say he was sure their parents were proud of Regulus?

Because most likely, not both parents were proud, as Sirius doesn't mention the father at all, and Walburga had an irrational desire to see her son as a hero. Sirius – the lineage's continuer, and Regulus – a brave and courageous warrior for blood purity. Because being a Death Eater was seen as brave and cool. They were revolutionaries. Chosen warriors.

Moreover, Bella was already in the organization and could influence Walburga's opinion against Orion and Arcturus's wishes. Playing on Walburga's emotional irrationality wasn't very hard, especially for Bella and Rodolphus.

Bella was in love with Voldemort. Rodolphus was devoted to Voldemort from the start, as Lestrange Sr. had been a supporter of Tom since their school days. The Rosiers fall into the same group. Surprise, surprise, Bella's mother – Druella Rosier, was likely the sister of that very Rosier who was with Tom from the start and who was Evan Rosier's father. Cygnus Black is open for interpretation, but my headcanon is that from a young age, he was a bit more aggressive than the others and didn't quite fit into the family dynamics and control (and Bella took after him in part).

Who convinced Regulus to join the organization, even knowing Orion and the Blacks were against it?

From the little we know about Regulus, it's clear he was a maximalist inclined to broad "heroic" actions, with his own understanding of honor. He had been committed to the idea of blood purity from childhood, believing it to be truly noble and important. He wanted to be a hero and admired Voldemort. Also, always being second to Sirius, he wanted to prove his worth. That he too was strong and brave and capable of significant, but correct actions. And, our beloved Bella was there. She helped him join the organization at 16.

If you want tragedy in Regulus Black's story, here it is:

Regulus Black went to his death knowing he was the last of the Blacks. He destroyed his family. His lineage. Put an end to it. Even for Sirius, running away was easier because Regulus was still there. When Regulus went to his death, Sirius had already run away from home.

There's much more interesting stuff here than "Regulus was forced." But who cares, right? Fuck canon, live fanon.

#regulus black #walburga black #orion black #the noble and most ancient house of black #anti fanon regulus #anti marauders fandom #regulus black meta

[the-sun-always-comes-back]

"He's a Son of Poseidon!" "She's a Daughter of Apollo" "They are a child of Artemis and blessed by all the gods" "He's a child of Hades"

Yeah, yeah, we get it. But do you know what I want?

A child of Dionysus! Why you ask?

Well first of all, it would be fucking hilarious. Imagine hearing all those amazing stories about getting claimed by a magical sign in the sky and being all excited just for the grumpy camp director to show up and be like "yeah, don't worry and don't make a fuss, that's one of mine" and just leaves again.

Second, he doesn't seem like a complete asshat of a father? I mean, he's a god so he is a shitty parent but, he's the only god (except maybe post hoo Apollo) who actually cares about his children to the extend that he mourn for them. Remember when his son died in the fourth book of PJO? That wasn't pretend as far as I'm concerned. Or when he asks Percy to look after his son in The last Olympian because he (even though he doesn't say it out loud) can't stand the thought of loosing another child.

So yeah, maybe he doesn't get the "Father-of-the-year" Award, but he's definetly not the worst parent.

[Also, as far as I remeber he truly loves his wife, so your parents really must be something special and therefore you too]

And lastly: Amazing powers

Dionysus is the god of wine, theater and joy as well as fertility so you probably are really good at drinks and stuff. Probably have a green thumb. His children are quite popular due their theatrical tendencies that light up the conversations or mood. But this can be quite useful too.

Turning enemies into grapes, tie them up with vines and being very convincing due to their natural acting talents.

However Dionysus is also the god of madness, ecstasy and intoxication.

Sure, children of the big three are bloody powerful and I surely don't want to make enemies out of an Ares or Athena child but Dionysus?

Imagine having an opponent that can drive you into madness (literally) with just the snap of their fingers. Imagine fighting alongside someone who can turn your team into ecstasy and therefore increasing their motivation while at the same time intoxicating the enemies to a point where they loose their mind and can't stand straight.

Sure, breaking somebody's body good and well, but breaking somebody's mind and bending it to your will ? That is true power.

A/N: Since some people mentioned it, I know, that Castor and Pollux exist. I even mentioned them in this post. This is mainly about fanfiction. However I wouldn't mind having a canon story with a dionysus child as protagonist, but I really don't care if Riordan uses Pollux or invents a new one.

#dionysus #dionysus pjo #mr d #mr d pjo #pjo #percy jackson and the greek gods #heroes of olympus #hoo #toa #trials of apollo #riordanverse #percy jackson #child of dionysus

[love-toxin]

i dunno if you care about my gushing about leon being infected but.

god the remake made it so much hotter and i don’t see anyone talk about it and i don’t know how they don’t! i personally can’t stop thinking about it and i need infected/normal leon carnally.

:) my time to revive plagas leon has come.

(cws: gn! reader, plagas!leon + a lil yandere, post-canon divergence, needles, drugging, nc groping/kissing under the influence, leon has dirty thoughts, biting, blood, reader gets tied up)

Normal Leon is flirty, playful, maybe a little bit saucy at times if the mood is right. Plagas!Leon is a complete and utter menace, and possibly the most perverse thing you've ever encountered.

At the very least, he's not a complete puppet for Saddler's machinations. He has moments of clarity here and there, but they make way for a deep, unconscionable shift in personality when his mind finally accepts that his body is no longer the same. It's difficult to deal with, you can imagine--or you could, if Leon wasn't relentlessly tracking you down and hellbent on not letting you leave the village.

Could he try to talk to you? He could, if you would listen. But every time he faces you with those piercing carmine eyes, you start backing away, and that pretty face twists in fear and disgust at what he's become. Every time you shoot at him, you try to reconcile it as putting down the monster in him and not putting down Leon. But your sweet, gentle conscience can't accept that there's no difference anymore. This is all him, good, bad, and ugly.

Oh, but you're still so cute. You're so mad at him for the way he is, you throw things at him and grab Ashley's wrist to hurry her away when he comes walking up. He was angry when you managed to slip out of his grasp despite feeling that urge to kill you rising, but when Saddler was finally taken out, Leon felt his free will return and realized he had the chance to make his own fate.

And that's why he's waited. He waited day, after day, after day for you, having had to watch you leave with Ashley and Luis in tow and replaying that scene in his mind a thousand times over. The island is gone now, but the rest of the area needs tending to. He spends his lonely days ridding the castle of pests, disposing of bodies, clearing the village away and getting rid of any remnants of Los Iluminados. They don't belong here anymore because they couldn't leave anyways, and since he can't either, he has to cull the ones who might get in the way of your arrival.

Because he knows you. He knows you're certain of his abilities, but even if there was a shadow of doubt about his survival, you won't be sleeping well wondering whether Leon is still alive. If he can be saved, or if he just needs to be put down properly. He doesn't much care where your reasoning lies, so long as you do what he's sure you will and return to the village to find closure.

It barely takes any time at all--in less than a month, you're standing at the edge of the village by a newly-repaired bridge, a local police car parked anxiously by the entrance for fear of what lies ahead. You've got your gun, a map scribbled out from memory, and his jacket over your shoulders. Adorable. You missed him.

There's really nothing to fear, but he won't let you get much further than that village. There are a few Ganados stationed there as plants to relay information to him, but aside from feeding your fury as you take them out they really don't serve much purpose. Leon can feel you here, your feet hitting the ground as you run and the breath burning your lungs as you hurry away from the mob, booking it straight for the castle gate.

How sweet of you to visit him at home. He can't help but stalk you for a bit, watching you wander about the immense palace and search for clues, flip through his notes and break down into tears when you realize he's still alive. You have so much hope, and it's all stored in that little bottle of pills and a needle filled with sedative.

It all falls away when you neglect to notice the latter missing from your belt, only to thrash and scratch wildly at his arm when he comes up from behind to restrain you. A little pinch in the neck, a choked up sigh, and you collapse so limply in his arms like a doll.

Oh, he missed you. It's so much easier to kiss you when you're unconscious, you don't run away or shove him or shout at him that he's a monster. He wants to kiss you in other places, but...not now. He can be gentle and intimate with you like that later. You barely even flinch, you don't even kick at him when he gropes your thigh and brings his mouth to it to bite down. You taste so sweet, he just wanted a bit of your blood to satisfy the craving--he won't make it a habit, that is unless it ends up turning you on when he does it in bed like he's planning to.

And he is planning. You have a future together but it doesn't include anyone else--he's been given an escape from that depressing life he never wanted, but he's not finding a new one without you, the only good thing he's got in this world. Even if he's got to tie you up so you don't attack him the moment you wake from your stupor.

"Let me go! I'll kill you!"

You don't mean that, sweet thing. You're just tired, and scared, and you missed him. That's why you came back--not a force on earth could've made him revisit the site of Raccoon City after what happened there, but you came all the way back and threw yourself into danger for him, even knowing all that you know. The rest of this ugly world isn't worthy of you.

"I'll fucking shoot your brains out for taking him away from me!"

So feisty and cute. Is he really the one that's obsessed? Because watching you cry in desperation and struggle against your bindings is pretty telling, especially since you stop the moment his cool hand touches your chin. You know what he is, and yet you still look up at him like he's the same he always was.

"L-Leon, if you're still in there, I can get you out. There's a facility in Arklay that agreed to help--you can come home!"

It's a shame you're so hopeful. You even grace him with a relieved smile when he backs off, his brow softened at the sight of you practically begging for him. But it's in that darling, naïve way that shows you have no idea you're already being dragged down with him. And you'll only see that once his hand hovers over your lap, and he gently peels back the jagged fabric you thought might've ripped on your way over a fence, or maybe in one of the many struggles against the villagers for your life.

But you understand, he thinks you do, when you finally follow his eyes and peer down at the exposed skin. The bite mark still glistens with blood and saliva from where he sucked hungrily at the wound, but webbing out beneath your skin around the site are thin, black trails that move along your flesh like veins. And they grow as the seconds pass, spreading out deeper within your body as the infection begins its process.

You look up at him so frightened, and yet so angry, that he can't help but kiss you then. You don't have unbound arms to beat at his chest, or breath in your lungs to scream or cry at him for what he's done to you. His tongue swallows all those muffled curses up, sliding wetly between your lips to taste that effervescent warmth he knows you won't lose in your transformation. You're simply too radiant to become as cold as he is, although he's sure it'll add an exciting thrill to the sensations you'll share when you let those locked desires of yours flood out of you. Who knows, you might get so enthusiastic about your newfound power that you don't let him leave the bedroom for days--Leon would certainly welcome that after all this wretched time apart.

"Just get some rest, sweetheart." He whispers barely a hair's length from your mouth, tongue flicking out to trace your bottom lip and indulge in a delightful shiver up your body. "Let Las Plagas give you strength, and I'll show you how to handle the power. And...welcome home, darling."

#no cap i kinda wanna write a series of this ehe #leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #plagas!leon kennedy x reader #yandere #yandere!leon kennedy #mild writing #resident evil #re4make #resident evil 4 #ellie writes #anons

[mtkay13]

My version of the wardrobe template! yay!! I had a LOT of fun doing this and feel like I could elaborate a bit more on each of those.

It's already linked up here, but here's once again a > link to the post.< Anyway! More about these designs below!

So first, for WKX's template! - Chapter 2: Grey robes I had already made my design of those for the full TYK lineup I made a while back. I really, really like those, and took inspiration from some of the robes SHL!WKX wears in the show for the shapes. - Chapter 69: dark robes with dark red belt I expected to like that style for him, but not that much! I had seen a tutorial on how asymetrical hanfus were worn by archers in the past and that inspired me, purely on a fashion level of course. I like how intimidating he looks with those and enjoy the touches of blue in the inner layer of the robes. - Chapter 75: dark red robes The GVM robes! which I also designed a while back when researching for the illustrations of the Mt Fengya battle scenes that I wanted to make. I reworked them just a little bit and got rid of some details that I didn't like anymore. I tremendously pleated skirts for WKX so I went at it once again. I also used shifts in hues to make it look like it could have been drenched in blood. - Extra 5: deep red robes For the reminder (since apparently some people are not aware of extra 5's existance), this extra is set 5 years post-canon. I wanted WKX to wear something that looked comfortable for traveling but also practical and fashionable. The teal jacket is of course another nod at SHL since the red and teal combo was an absolute banger. Let's say I didn't want WKX to just sport an all-red look. Furthermore, the teal really works to adorn the red hues. - My personal favourite I actually don't really know whether those are my actual personal favourites, but I've come to LOVE WKX dressed in red and white thanks to @kwehxing's designs. I think it really suits him and on top of that it avoids the question "is this Hua Cheng" LMAO--okay jokes aside, I combined most of the shapes that I really like for WKX (wider shoulders, wide sleeves, and long robes with pleated inner robes) and I find him very elegant like this. Now, for ZZS! - Chapter 1: sapphire blue scholar robes Those had already been designed before as well! They're my go to generic TC!ZZS robes, haha. I was a bit extra with the blue colour here, but oh well. I'm quite obsessed with the silver brocade cynching his waist, haha. - Chapter 2: stolen farmer robes A classic as well as far as I'm concerned--of course, inspired by his hobo fit in SHL because it was quite efficient. I'm forever fond of my scruffy hobo!Xu and his toes poking from his sandals. - Chapter 18: luxurious robes from the Gao family Those were a new design! Which I had a lot of fun coming up with. Putting ZZS in a different colour scheme was also really nice. For those who don't remember, ZZS feels quite ridiculous when he sees himself in a mirror wearing those fancy robes while being so emaciated and still sporting his hobo mask. I wanted to give this "out of place" feeling; and also work on a very "wuxia" style for the robes, since this is jianghu and they were provided by Gao Chong. - Extra 5: black robes I'm incredibly fond of this design. I worked quite a bit on it, since I wasn't sure of where I wanted to go. My main guidelines were: practical and cool. I really like ZZS having a lot of room to move so ideally not too much fabric in the way, and I think he also needs arm braces to be rid of annoying sleeves. Of course, him looking much healthier and having a dynamic ponytail really works to "complete the look", and I find that he looks really cool there haha. - My personal favourite This one has been refined over the months, but it's definitely, overall, my favourite look for him in terms of shapes and construction. I like that the robes are short, I like the more fashionable jacket. I'm especially into the "pants tucked into the boots" silhouette, as well as the little ribbons keeping them tight around the ankles. I'd say that this leg shape + short robes + a bun (or sometimes a ponytail) is THE ZZS design combo for me, haha. It looks practical and fun and adventurous, just how I like it.

To conclude the whole post, I had more fun doing this than I even expected, and needless to say that I'm very excited to see other versions of them following this template. It was a good opportunity to try and project what the characters look like throughout the book, and a fun design exercise as well. I actually don't really like doing character design usually, but for characters I'm obsessed with, it's of course a much nicer experience. Anyway, thank you for reading!

#tian ya ke #wenzhou #meta #character design #wen kexing #zhou zishu #tyk #zzs #wkx

[xitsensunmoon]

Biting the Hand That Feeds au FAQ (Vampires + donor au)

Any general content warnings for bhtf au?

Yes. A normal amount of fnaf warnings, a normal amount of vampire warnings. For someone who doesn't know I elaborate... For vampire stuff, the most obvious ones are blood, hypnosis, bites, and animalistic behaviour. Less obvious - slightly suggestive themes. For fnaf - fnaf's usual violence, dark themes, a drop of gore and murders. The lore is uh. Very dark. I will try to decrease the amount of all of the cruelty but man. People who know, know how hard it will be. But I will tag everything properly so don't worry.

Is there a fic for your au?

No. And currently, I'm not even planning on writing one.

How do I find the story?

For now, we have two comics that are directly connected and one that doesn't have a specific place in the story but is about canonical lore.

[ 1 ] - [ 2 ] - [ x ]

In future, we will have more and I probably absolutely will forget to update this post so I recommend checking the tags. Here's the tag list

Tip: don't click the tag. Tumblr hides half of the results. Type it in the blog's search instead :)

Are the comics the only canonical thing about au?

No! I answer asks and draw a lot of doodles with bhtf au all the time and 90% of them are canon. You can, yet again, find everything in the tag list linked in the previous question.

Can I draw/write fan stuff for your au?

Yes, please!! I'm always happy to see fanart and fan writings and literally everything that you do! Just tag me when you post and use a fanart or fanwriting tag for au specifically so I don't miss it!

Can you include my characters in your story?

No, unfortunately, I cannot. The story is already written and I don't have any "space" for background characters either. Maybe it will change but currently, things are like this.

I asked a question with an interaction with my characters and I never got an answer, why?

I don't accept such requests. I'm not ready to spend my time drawing other people's characters for free(if I personally don't want to, of course)

Is there any limit to how many questions I can ask?

No, not at all! You can ask all you want just please make sure your question wasn't answered before. There is a big possibility I will just simply delete it if it was answered beforehand many times. Check the ask tag for it.

What about limitations? Any boundaries?

Please no questions about tickling🧍‍♀️ I got so many of those it already makes me uncomfortable. And for some reason, a lot of people send asks that include violence towards my characters and while I don't really feel uncomfortable with this I just idk what to answer and why are you even doing this lmao

What questions I should avoid?

Well, not really avoid but I will mention it anyway.

The things I have planned to draw right now:

- Sun and Moon and y/n's first meeting

- The creation of Sun&Moon

- Why S&M are sensitive to light and darkness

- How they hunt

So no need to ask me about these. I will show it, I promise.

What about sexual themes?

I understand that I post a lot of suggestive stuff and it may appear I allow such a thing but no.

You can create content with it tho, I don't mind for the most part. Just be ready that I may not reblog it, as my Tumblr is a SFW place. It's always 50/50.

Romantic themes?

I do draw some kisses and cuddles when I feel like it and you of course can send ideas for cute interactions but in the story we're very far away from it lol.

My question gets ignored even though I followed everything that you mentioned here. Why?

Answered in main FAQ.

Can I share the ideas for your au with you?

YES!!! Yes, yes and yes! I'm very open to that, like yes! The only thing that I definitely want to mention - you should expect that I actually can take your ideas and use them. Some people are protective of their ideas so if you're like this you probably should not share them with me :)

The information that you're using for your au is wrong.

Happens sometimes yeah. I know nothing about any medical stuff for y/n so I usually improvise. After all it's an au about robotic vampires man, this information is absolutely wrong. But! You're free to drop feedback/constructive criticism in my inbox!

Will be updated later

#biting the hand that feeds au #bhtf au #my art #for pinned post

[bella-goths-wife]

I wasn't sure initially but after reading them all I must admit I've enjoyed your Yandre Vs x pet posts and love Velvette in particular. Can you do something similar but just for Velvette? Either Yandre, she owns your soul or just an obsessive girlfriend (general neutral reader).

Yandere girlfriend velvette

Warnings: obsessive behaviour but not as bad as pet series, reader is an objectively bad person but in a the devil wears Prada way, ooc velvette?

This isn’t canon to the pet series and is a completely different au! So reader is not pet and is treated significantly better

First of all, you’d have to be something special for velvette to treat you as an equal, let alone develop a romantic relationship with

And you were definitely something special

You were a fashionista demon who died in the 2000s, but your death would not stop you from building an empire

You created unique clothing pieces that blended the fun and freeness of the previous generations with a fresh Y2K style

Think monster high outfits, your outfits held darker and lighter tones blended together which incorporated different cultures from all over the world

You also had a unique ability that helped you with this, you had the ability to put your emotions into the clothing you’d handcrafted

Literally, so if you made a scarf while feeling sad, whoever wore the scarf would then feel sad for however long they wore the scarf

This made your brand unique and gave you an edge that stood out from the other companies

You started out on market stalls but eventually you gained investors and expanded into a company that even had hell’s celebrity’s wearing your clothes

Stolas had commissioned you to make Octavia’s debut dress, veroskia had asked you to create her entire wardrobe for her tour around the hells rings and even the Lilith was photographed wearing one of your dresses

You had officially built your fashion empire that you’d always dreamed about and you even owned your own tower

This unfortunately meant that you couldn’t keep up with demand and handcraft each clothing item and would have to expand the workforce and hire skilful factory workers

This meant that your ability to put your emotions into the clothing wouldn’t work, so you made a limited edition line out every year with one new clothing item coming out every month

Each outfit would have a theme that connected with the emotions, so you’d do a rouge rage or a cerulean calm

You’d sell these to the highest bidder and would quickly become your top earning products with brawls happening at the bidding wars

But your company being successful only made your bad personality traits worse as you became more demanding and perfectionist to your staff in a way that made you a bad person but in a devil wears prada way that had the newer generations of demons calling you an icon

You had an attitude very similar to velvettes, only with the skills and the maturity to carry it

Velvette hated watching you grow your empire so much that it almost rivalled hers in popularity and income

She hated that you’d practically done it all by yourself while she had relied on Vox financially and he only did that because of his interest In her abilities with social media

She hated that she actually liked your clothing and she hated that your ability made you stand out

But she hated most of all that you two had come to hell within months of each other, yet you were a respected ceo and overlord while she was seen as a joke by overlords and parts of the fashion community

She also hated how insanely pretty you were, but she didn’t come to terms with that until later

She would try and do anything to discredit you and make it so your popularity would go down when you were neck and neck

She tried ‘exposing’ you on social media for having poor working conditions and being rude to workers but she forgot this is hell and literally no one cares

She tried slandering you and your clothing brand on social media, but she forgot your modern and you know how to use social media to your advantage too

You kinda turned into a meme similar to the Wendy’s twitter memes whenever you clapped back at velvette

She tried to pull your investors by threatening them with voxtech legal action, but you’d become self sustaining and could handle the loss with having hells celebrities commissioning your personal pieces

She tried to make you look foolish in front of the other overlords, but they all respected you much more than they respected her

She even tried to copy one of your designs but you called her out and she had to do one of those influencer apology videos but it mostly just consisted of her badmouthing you and justifying her actions

Her hatred bored on obsession with how regularly she stalked your profiles and life

After around ten years of this rivalry, you grew bored with it and you were running out of ideas

So you contacted the Vs and sat down in a meeting with them where you suggested a collaboration of the fashion designers on your terms

Velvette wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but Vox insist that it would be extremely profitable and practically forcing velvette to accept

So you started a collaboration

You and velvette butted heads a lot or some stylistic choices

It was so bad that eventually you couldn’t be in a room together for a few weeks

This collaboration took months, and during this time velvette got to hate you up close as she got to know every annoying detail about you

Except that hatred changed to something different over the months she worked with you, you intrigued her in a way that no one else has ever before

It all came to a stop one night when you two had gone out to a club together for social media promo for the upcoming collab

You shared drinks and complaints about one another and one thing led to another and you two had a drunken make out session in the back of the limo

But velvette hauled ass as soon as she realised she was swapping spit with her arch nemesis

She laid in bed and thought about her actions

Could all of those years of feeling hatred and jealousy towards you just been her suppressed attraction to you?

Could all those tense moments she assumed was awkward tension actually been sexual tension?

The thought made velvette want to scream into a pillow

She pushed her feelings down and decided to just avoid you until the collab was over

She thought it would be easier to hate you rather than face her obvious attraction to you

You tried talking with her many times during the collab but she just ignored you, and this hurt you deeply

So you complied with her wishes and after the collab ended you went back to living your lives without each other

But velvette found herself missing you and being around you

Staff especially noticed that she was much harsher to them then before

She felt herself wanting to reach out to you to beg you to either kiss her or reject her because surely rejection would be easier to deal with than this

But it all changed when rumours started circulating

Velvette had been innocently scrolling through social media until she came across a drama channel that claimed to have spotted you in a romantic moment with none other than veroskia mayday

Velvette found herself consumed with absolute disgust and jealousy

She stalked yours and veroskia’s profile and begged Vox to use his hypnosis to send trolls to verkoskia’s profile

The rumours were cleared up after you made a response that claimed that you and veroskia were only friends, but velvette still felt consumed with rage

She did something completely out of character

She went to you at your place of work and cornered you in your office before confessing every little feeling she’d ever had for you

She practically begged you to be with her, but you just sighed and explained that she had hurt you with her actions and that you couldn’t see yourself in a relationship with her

“It would hurt the brands” is what you also said, and that cut velvette deeper than any knife

She had felt pathetic, and she’d never feel pathetic in any relationship

Even before she had gotten to know you, your instant rise to success left her feeling small

You held power over her, and maybe that’s why she was so obsessed and attracted to you

She’d felt surrounded by people who were less than her all her life, and falling for you felt like finally finding an equal

And she wasn’t going to let you go that easily

She’d destroy you and your company if it meant that you’d love and rely on her

Hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you want me to make this another series

Tag list:

None yet, let me know if you wanna be tagged in future works like this for this if it becomes a series :)

#hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vees #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

[iarrelm]

Swap AU Huskerdust <3

I did the sketch for this immediately after getting that ask about what I shipped in this AU. I finally got some time to finish it!!!

Here's some random swap au huskerdust thoughts:

I touched on it a little bit in the last post but because Husk works a lot he doesn't have the time or energy to pick apart Angel's mask and decide he wants to get to know the real him like in canon. So they end up staying in the 'enemies' arc of their enemies to friends to lovers slowburn a lot longer lmao

When they finally become friends it's because both of them slowly and steadily worked toward being kinder to each other.

After a long time of being mostly indifferent to each other after their rocky start, Husk notices that Angel hasn't actually been pushing his boundaries like he used to. During one of Alastor's activities, he sees that Angel actually goes out of his way to make sure he doesn't cross them.

A bit later, when he goes to the bar, instead of barging in and grabbing a bottle or making his own drink, he actually sits down at it. Angel, who had been cleaning glasses, just looks at him in surprise.

"The princess told me you've been practicing. Think you can make a decent drink yet?"

Angel grins. "You offering to be my taste tester?"

The drink Angel puts together is pretty great. A bit too sweet for Husk's taste, but it wasn't bad. He tells Angel as much, and the smile he receives in return is enough to convince him to continue to taste test anything else Angel tries making in the future.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel swap au #huskerdust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #my art #i havent colored and shaded something in so long i hope it looks ok alkdjfaokfjwe #it takes so much effort to shade stuff but i did it for them #idk what to draw next for this au someone send me more asks lmao #in the mean time ive got fanart for a huskerdust overlords au fanfic im reading coming up next