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honeybleed · 3 months

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— ★ MALLRATS // TRAFALGAR LAW

content & warnings: fem!reader, smut (car sex, breast play, vaginal fingering, riding, spit, creampie) non-canon (set in the 90s) law works at a comic book store, reader works at a clothing store, porn no plot mdni

author’s note: peep this fan art hehe

word count: 1.4k

“Yo.”

Law looked up from his comic as he sat behind the counter.

It was a sweltering summer day, and even the air con albeit dusty and aged was no use.

He’d taken off his button-up and wore a wife beater, showcasing his rich tan and inky black tats.

“I need some change. I’m running low on small bills.” You said plainly.

“S-sure.” Law stuttered as he shot up from the chair, rising to his full towering height.

He winced, hating how shaky his voice was. Rubbing the nape of his neck.

Clearing his throat, he stared right at you. Which only made it worse because you being up close with your face was making his heart race even more.

You arched an eyebrow as Law struggled with opening and fumbled with the cash register in front of him.

Coins and notes dropping haphazardly on the floor.

Law wanted the ground to swallow him up whole as you placed a hand on the counter, the other on a hip as you gave him a bemused look.

Law’s co-worker Shachi let out a snort at the scene unfolding in front of him.

He knew he’d be no better if he was faced with a bold and pretty girl like yourself but Law was rarely flustered.

“How much do you need?” He blurted out, words clashing together.

“Just a mix of twenties, tens, and fives.” You replied as you looked at your nails, this ordeal taking far longer than it should’ve been.

He handed the bills, and you purposely grazed your slender thumb over the inked letters of “DEATH” on his knuckles.

“Thanks, Traffy.” You winked.

“What was your deal back there?” You giggled as you sat in the cracked leather backseat of Law’s beat-up Camaro.

“Just not used to you popping up like that.” He murmured.

His hand snaked up your throat, gripping your jaw to tilt it back as he traced open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

“Mhm? Maybe I’ll come around more often.” You remarked, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to stifle back a moan at Law’s tongue gliding along your sensitive skin.

You both pretended to not know each other to avoid the other busybodies in the mall making you two the topic of conversation. But it didn’t stop Law’s brain from short-circuiting every time you dropped by in your skimpy clothes.

“And do what? Tease me in that little tight skirt? Last thing I need is to get a hard-on in a place that smells like Funions.” He said wryly as he pulled away from your neck.

It was no secret Law hated working at the store.

He loved comics and the other paraphernalia but the customers were usually jackasses that prioritised mint condition comics and figurines over deodorant.

“Dunno. It’s fun seeing all the guys get excited over the glance of an actual girl.” You grinned as you faced Law, nipping his chin. It was difficult to crack a smile out of him but you always managed to.

You ruffled his jet-black spikes as you smiled at him.

“Makes me wanna break their jaw when they look at you.” He said a little darkly as he shifted to place you on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips as you straddled him.

He rolled your shirt up above your boobs as an impish grin tugged at his lips.

“No bra?”

“Shut up.” You snickered as you rolled your eyes.

Your laughter turned into moans as you felt Law’s mouth latch onto your breast, his tongue swirling around the pert bud as his smoky grey eyes were fixated on yours.

The sounds of him suckling on the flesh as well as your soft moan sent a shiver down Law’s spine.

Your breathing became labored as the intensity of his gaze caused heat to pool in your gut.

Your fingers threaded in his coal-black tresses.

“…Law.” You murmured, feeling lightheaded at the way your nipples strained at the exposure to the cool air as well as the way his mouth consumed you.

Your back arched as he flicked his tongue across its peak, you gasped and let out a soft sigh.

Shutting your eyes, your hands still memorised him well. Your hands trailed along his toned biceps, then dropped to slip underneath his black mesh vest.

He shuddered as he felt your acrylics rake against his flanks, and trace along the lean muscle.

He could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your touch, and you revelled in the warmth of his skin against your fingers.

A content sigh escaped from your lips as you ground against Law, rubbing yourself against his clothed crotch.

His large hands cupped your hips to lift you slightly as he undid his pants.

He smirked as he noticed your reaction.

“Seems like you're enjoying yourself quite a bit, huh?” He muttered as he kissed the crook of your neck, using his other hand to rub small circles on your inner thigh.

Law’s length sprung free and slapped against his abs, you grinning as you fisted his cock.

“Easy.” He hissed, panting a little.

You murmured an apology as he met your lips once again.

“You ready for this?” He asked.

Law slipped his long digits into your wet heat, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he sucked your tongue gently, sounds of lips smacking taking up the backseat.

“Mmm, you're so wet. You want me inside you?” He said, voice almost a growl between kisses as your hands cupped his jaw. You nodded and whined as you felt his finger curl against you.

“Please…” You whined.

Law groaned as he heard your breathy moans and sighs, the heat in his groin intensifying.

“Oh, fuck. You know how to drive me crazy, don't you?” He smirked against your lips as your tongue tangled together, saliva dribbling down your chins.

He slipped another finger into you, thrusting harder and faster.

“That's it, baby. Cum for me.”

He rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumping his fingers into her harder and deeper, making her gasp and writhe with pleasure in his lap.

“Let go for me, babe.”

“I’m s’close Law, please..!” You gasped out as your velvet walls began to pulsate around his digits and your stomach caved in with your heavy breaths.

As your essence coated his fingers he withdrew almost immediately, causing you to whine from the loss of warmth.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He panted as he brought his fingers to your lips. “Have a taste, princess.”

You nodded eagerly and enveloped his fingers with your plump lips as you held his wrist, swirling and lapping up your juices as your eyes fixated on him.

Law couldn’t hold back the grunt at how aroused he was at the sight, feeling his cock stirring all over again.

He crushed his lips against yours again, tasting you on your tongue, his hands on your hips and helping to guide you down, groaning as he felt himself being sheathed inside your warmth.

“Ahh...shit, you feel so good. Just take it slow, okay? Don't want to hurt yourself.” You said gently, strained as the veins in his neck bulged.

“Promise…” You mumbled as you set your hands on his broad shoulders as you slowly began to roll my hips, sliding up and down his veiny cock.

Law grunted as he felt you move on top of him, his hands grasping onto your hips to guide your rhythm.

“Take your time.” He leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss, another hand moving up to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently as you bounced on top of him.

He felt his excitement hitting a boiling point.

“I’m gonna cum, shit.” He thrusted up into you a few more times before he feels himself spilling inside you, filling you up with his cum as he repeated your name.

You felt your body go limp as you slumped against him, burying your face into his neck as you breathed heavily.

Law held you close, a feeling of contentment and pleasure washing over him as your heated skin was on his.

“You okay, baby?” He asked softly as he stroked your back softly, catching his breath.

“Fuck, it’s so stuffy in here..” You whined at the car windows fogging up.

Law chuckled as he looked around, noticing the mist on the windows.

“Yeah, we might have to crack a window or something.” He leans over you to roll down the passenger window, feeling the cool night air rushing in. “Better?”

“Mhm.” You smiled as you lay on his chest, his arm tight around you.

author’s note: again w the porn no plot drabbles again i guess lmao 👨🏽‍🦯 if u enjoyed this reblogs and interactions r always appreciated

#one piece x reader #one piece x black reader #one piece smut #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalagar law smut #one piece x female reader #one piece x fem!reader #one piece drabble #one piece fanfic #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months

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CURSES & CONFESSIONS - GARRETH WEASLEY

Summary: The four times people told you Garreth was in love with you, and the one time Garreth did. Slytherin F!MC. Seventh Year.

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

Warnings: Fluff, unrequited love, shitty writing.

Word Count: 4957

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#1. Imelda Reyes

Rolling her shoulders back, MC exhaled deeply, hoping to ease some of the tension in her form. The incessant nattering of her roommate was doing little to help her efforts. Side by side, the teammates trod across the dew-dusted field, unbothered by the growing moisture on their shin pads. Morning mist clung to strands of their hair; both of them sporting green ribbons securely tying back their long locks. The Quidditch field loomed in front of them. The cheers of their fellow students beckoning them forward. Having spent the entirety of Sixth Year begging, Imelda finally convinced her competitive friend to join the Quidditch Team as their final Chaser.

Imelda noticed the steps of her friend falter as they drew nearer. “The first game is always nerve-wracking but once you mount your broom, all worries about impending injuries vanish.”

“Very reassuring, Reyes. Why not just tell her to take a Bludger to the head?” Sebastian Sallow commented, long legs easily catching up to them. “It’s a good thing it’s not your job to give motivational speeches to the team- Oh, wait… Maybe that’s why we lost the House Cup last year?”

Slinging his arm across his friend’s shoulders, he grinned down at her ashy face. “Merlin, you almost look nervous,” the Beater jeered playfully, poking her in the cheek.

MC frowned, a crease forming across her brow. Goblins? No problem. Giant trolls? Easy. Embarrassing herself in front of the majority of the school? Mortifying.

“Shut it, Sallow. We’re not going to lose this year. We have the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ on our side.” Imelda’s tone was teasing, watching her friend chafe against the title she had earned in their Fifth Year. And hated ever since.

Eyes landing on the Quidditch tent, Imelda honed in on a smattering of red lingering outside the entrance to the changing rooms. His dark eyes were trained on the muscular arm that Sebastian had draped around MC, ready to storm over and rip it off.

Loudly, Imelda declared, “Besides, we’re playing against Gryffindor today. We already have the upper hand against them.”

“Is that so? Do feel free to share with the group.” Leander’s haughty tone broke through the cacophony of excited spectators.

The trio turned to find him looking down at them, arms crossed against his chest. Garreth flanked his left side, expression at odds with the relaxed posture of his body. Gravitating towards the mop of red curls, MC discreetly shuffled towards him, close enough to see the condensation forming on his robes. The cool air clashing with the natural heat of his body.

Similarly to the Slytherin Beater, Weasley had undergone an enticing transformation over the summer. Even whilst slouched against the wooden beam behind him, he towered over her. The second-hand uniform that used to hang loosely on his frame, now strained against the broadness of his shoulder, pulling taut at the muscles of his biceps. When she lifted her gaze to his, he offered a genuine smile, green eyes twinkling. Her brow smoothed, eyes lightening as she smiled back at him.

“You may be an awful strategist, Prewett, but I know better than to give the enemy important intelligence. Why would I share my secret weapon with you?”

“I hope you’re not referring to the little witch cowering behind Sallow. If so, you’ve lost already. After all, magic is banned from Quidditch and without her extra magic, she’s not very skilled.”

Garreth clenched his fist, knowing his friend was only trying to intimidate the group of Snakes. Punching his teammate before the Game began wasn’t the best way to win the Quidditch Cup.

“She is going to kick your arse for talking about her like she’s not here.” MC glared up at Leander. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to relive the humiliation I dealt you at Crossed Wands, which I did without extra magic.”

Garreth sniggered, covering it with a cough before his Captain could scold him. Opening his mouth to retort, Madam Kogawa interrupted, yelling out that there was two minutes left until the start of the Game. Prewett dashed inside the tent, remembering he still needed to strap on his knee pads. Sebastian followed closely behind, muttering about how badly he needed to piss before climbing onto his broom.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet, Garreth hated how his large frame made his discomfort more apparent. Both women turned to look at him as he moved, unable to move subtly anymore. Having noted the trepidation on his Potions partner’s face, he wanted to offer words of encouragement. Except her Captain was looking at him as though she were plotting all the ways to throw him from his broom. The trees swayed as the wind picked up. Not the best weather for a first match.

“Don’t get blown away out there.” Garreth internally cursed himself.

Why did his mouth insist on saying the stupidest things his brain conjured up? Instead of telling her how he wished she had a good match. How some part of him wanted her to win so that he could revel in her joy.

An alluring spark flickered in her eyes as the competitive side of her was ignited. “Have a good game, asshole.”

“You too, Princess,” he called out after her retreating figure. The scent of her shampoo filled his nose as she brushed past him. He watched her go with a dopey grin on his face, unable to wipe it off before Imelda walked past him. She didn’t look at the redhead but he watched the Slytherin Captain shake her head in disgust, knowing it was aimed his way.

“Forget everything I said about keeping an eye on the Quaffle.”

“Excuse me?” MC questioned, turning to face her friend as they entered the Slytherin section of the changing rooms. “Doesn’t the defeat the purpose of my position?”

“Your new job is to tail Weasley.” Imelda had a wicked smirk on her face. One that usually accompanied words of insanity. “Weasley has been infatuated with you since you stole the Fwooper feather for him. And, as much as the babbling buffoon bothers me, once he’s in the air, he’s exceptionally talented. I need you to put a stop to that. Whenever you’re around, you’re the sole focus of his attention. I’m not even sure he’s aware of it.”

The flaps to the tent rolled back, allowing in bright bursts of sunlight. Emerald and maroon robes filed out onto the grassy pitch.

“You’re so full of shit.” MC muttered, pushing aside the way Imelda’s words made her feel.

The only response she received was a knowing smile before Imelda slowly sailed out of the tent, and into the roaring crowd. When the whistle blew, MC was further convinced of her friend’s dishonesty. Dashing after the Quaffle, she was elated when her hands were the first to wrap around the ball. Darting across the sky, she was unable to dodge the mass of red barrelling towards her left side. The two collided. She released the Quaffle, dropping it into Natsai’s awaiting hands below. Tightly grasping the handle of her broom, it took all her strength to avoid tumbling off it.

Oblivious to the Quaffle sailing past his head, Garreth’s attention remained on MC until he was confident she wasn’t plummeting to the ground. Furious eyes snapped up in his direction but he simply winked at her, flying back into the fray. He attributed the red tinge of his cheeks to the biting wind. Not the fact that his skin heated from where it had made contact with the beautiful Snake.

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#2. Natsai Onai

Sunshine illuminated the two Seventh Years lounging in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Bags and outer robes discarded by the bench, the pair of them curled up on the neatly-trimmed grass. Taking a much-needed break from studying, the pair of them soaked up the warm rays. Even though it was only two months into the school year, NEWTS were bogging them down. So, instead of discussing the terrifyingly long Potions essay they’d been set, the pair were gossiping about their fellow classmates.

Entering the Courtyard, Garreth was alerted to his friend’s presence when her familiar giggle reached his ears. His head whipped round, searching for her.

“Is it true that Sebastian has a basilisk inked onto his back?” Natsai asked, when MC’s laughter upon hearing about Leander’s disastrous date subsided. Her hands weaved a small pile of flowers together.

MC lifted her head up from the cushion she had transfigured her cloak into, squinting at her friend. “Pardon?”

“Some of the Ravenclaw girls were discussing it in the Library. I may have overhead, and decided you would be the best person to ask.”

“And you thought to ask me, and not Ominis? Why do you think I am the most knowledgeable about Sebastian without a shirt?”

A dark shadow fell over her, stealing away the warmth that had likely burnt the skin of her nose.

“Who’s seen Sebastian without his shirt on?” Garreth dumped his bag beside MC’s before collapsing onto the grass beside her. His hand picked up a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. “Can you believe the length of Sharp’s essay?”

MC smiled up at him, amused by his actions.

“I was just asking whether MC could confirm the rumours regarding Sebastian’s tattoo,” smiled Natsai, watching her housemate’s reaction closely.

“The one on his back?” Garreth’s jaw ticked, fingers dropping the hair. “Why have you seen him shirtless?!”

Without letting MC reiterate that she hadn’t seen Sebastian without a shirt, Garreth spoke again. His teeth clenched tightly together as though the words pained him. “Although, I suppose the pair of you as a couple makes perfect sense. You would compliment each other nicely.”

MC pulled herself into a sitting position, eyebrows knitting together. “What is that supposed-?”

“Oh, Garreth! We need another player for Gobstones.” Poppy shouted across the Courtyard, waving eagerly at him.

Wanting to escape the bubbling feeling in his chest, Garreth excused himself, clambering to his feet before his mouth blurted out anything else he might regret. Watching the redhead make his way towards Poppy, MC felt a nauseous feeling arise in the pit of her stomach.

“What was all of that about? Sebastian and I? Together? Merlin, it would be like dating a brother. A really annoying brother.” MC rambled. “And, could he have escaped us any faster? You would think he hadn’t seen Poppy in months instead of a couple of hours.”

Guilt coursed through her at the ugly thoughts she was possessing, not enjoying how the idea of her friends together was making her feel. Poppy was a delightful witch, and if Garreth were to date anyone, MC couldn't think of someone who could be nicer.

Natty snickered at the words tumbling from her friend’s mouth, watching her suck in a deep breath. “They were playing Chess in the Library earlier, but you had your head buried in your Herbology book.”

“Oh…” A dejected look overtook her face, watching the dark-haired witch laugh loudly at something Garreth said. “I wasn’t aware he felt that way about her. Although, I suppose it’s impossible not to like Poppy. She’s the sweetest. Now that I think about it, he is always patient with her, and they do spend a fair bit of time together. I think everyone should love Poppy. Oh, no… I’ve been trying to convince Ominis to tell her how he feels about her, but clearly that would be counterproductive if she and Garreth are courting. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that. Not when he looks so happy and-”

“My friend,” interrupted Natty. “Breathe.”

Natsai looked at the witch across from her, wondering how somebody who had duelled Rookwood and survived, could be so oblivious to someone she looked at every day.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What is going on with you and Garreth?”

“Nothing. We’re just friends.”

The fact that she didn’t ask for a further explanation told Natsai everything she needed to know. She shook her head in disbelief. “I have watched that boy almost snap his neck because he heard you laugh and wanted to see what was causing it. Even worse, I watched him smear mashed potato over his face because you walked into the Great Hall, and he was too busy watching you instead of where his fork was going.”

“I remember that,” mumbled MC to herself, before turning back to her friend. “It is sweet of you to try and boost my ego but Garreth and I don’t feel that way about each other. Poppy was next to me that day in the Great Hall. He was clearly looking at her.”

Natty enjoyed the discomfort on her friend’s face. MC clearly didn’t understand why the idea of Garreth and Poppy was so unsettling to her but Natsai certainly did. She just hoped the pair of them would figure it out soon. She had done her best to prompt her friend but it was not her place to declare the redhead’s love. That was something he needed to do himself. Ignoring the knowing smile on Natsai’s face, MC’s eyes zeroed in on the flowers in her hand. Changing the topic of conversation, she commented on the beauty of the flower crown. The Lion leaned over, placing it atop the Snake’s head.

“I feel like a faerie princess.”

“I believe you are as frightful as one sometimes.”

“Oi! I haven’t duelled anyone in two whole days.”

“A new record.” Natty deadpanned.

MC laughed, loud and clear. Fumbling his gobstones, Garreth’s head snapped up. His lips quirked into a smile at the joy on her face and the flowers in her hair. He paid no attention to the foul-smelling liquid spraying his robes.

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#3. Sebastian Sallow

Legs aching, MC wished she was curled up on the couch in the Undercroft, reading to Ominis. That was how she was supposed to be spending her frosty Sunday. Instead, she was trudging along the icy pathway to Hogsmeade, eager to get to J. Pippin’s Potions. She’d overheard Garreth complaining that he was out of Bicorn horn and his latest experiment required some. Unfortunately, he had managed to land himself in detention for the first weekend of December. Professor Sharp hadn’t been overly impressed to find his hair transfigured into snakes, having been on the receiving end of the redhead’s latest concoction. The redhead had spent all of dinner last night complaining about his plans for the day had been ruined.

Wanting to surprise him, MC decided to brave the harsh December weather to go for him. Because that was what good friends did. Nose pink and goosebumps dotting her arms, she snuggled further into her scarf and cursed when she slipped on black ice.

Large hands wrapped around her arm, pulling her upright. “Remind me how you managed to save Hogwarts when you can barely stand on your own two feet?”

“Are you stalking me, Sallow?”

“Absolutely. I bet you’re glad for it now.” Sebastian grinned, falling into step beside her.

“Only because you saved me from cold and bruised buttcheeks. I shall sorely miss the peace and quiet though.”

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest in faux offence. “You mortally wound me. Even more so upon discovering you failed to invite me on your little outing. I thought we agreed you would stop fighting Ashwinders and Poachers alone,” he scolded. His expression turned questioning when she continued past the Forbidden Forest, instead of venturing into it as he had expected.

“Fret not. I’m simply running errands today.”

“Even better. Any adventure with you is thrilling but the best ones involve Butterbeer and free samples from Honeydukes. Are we looking for anything in particular?”

“I need to stop by Pippin’s,” mumbled MC.

Whilst she enjoyed Sebastian’s company, and was pleased that he preferred outings to Hogsmeade than skulking around Catacombs these days, she’d slipped away quietly that morning in the hopes of being alone. Only because she hadn’t wanted to explain what she was doing.

“I thought you stocked up on potion supplies last week? Don’t tell me you’re out already.” Sebastian chuckled, eyes honing in on the blush staining her cheeks.

Damn him and his perception, she cursed.

Clearing her throat, her spine straightened. “I’m not actually going for myself. Garreth mentioned he was low on some supplies.”

“Where is your boyfriend? Why isn’t he accompanying you?”

Pace picking up as they neared the Wizarding village, she prayed that the sight of Honeydukes would be enough of a distraction to keep Sebastian from prying too deeply into the meaning behind MC’s deed. She, herself, wasn’t willing to look past the fact that she wanted to help out her friend. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she protested

To her dismay, Sebastian persisted, following her down the cobbled streets. “Have you told him that?” A gleeful grin lit up his face.

“What are you blabbering on about?”

“I happen to have it on good authority that he spent the entirety of Potions convincing Andrew Larson not to ask you to Hogsmeade today. That’s why he messed up his potion. For once, he wasn’t brewing his own recipe.”

MC stopped in the middle of the path. Sebastian smacked into her back with a soft ‘oomph’, unable to slow down in time. “That’s why he’s in detention? Why would he do that? I’m not complaining because at least I didn’t have to find a polite way to deter Andrew but…”

“Why would you decline Andrew’s offer? Perhaps your answer is the same reason why Garreth convinced him not to ask in the first place.”

“Or maybe you’re listening to gossip again, and they got it wrong. Who is this so-called good authority?”

Sebastian’s smirk deepened. “Ominis.”

“Oh.”

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#4. Ominis Gaunt

Splattered with mud, strands of hair slipped from her low bun, sticking to the sheen of sweat coating her face. Her entire body groaned in protest as she and Poppy sullenly made their way up the stairs before the Great Hall. Neither were feeling particularly victorious despite having saved all animals caged up in the Poacher camp. When Poppy had suggested Flooing to Irondale to dismantle a Poacher camp, the two witches had thought they would return before dinner, pleased with themselves and the good they had done. Instead, dinner was in full-swing and all the witches wanted was to reach the Hospital Wing without detection.

The three Wiggenwelds they had taken with them were long gone, and yet numerous injuries remained. Poppy had taken a nasty hex to the chest, and MC hadn’t hesitated to shove all three of the healing potions into her mouth. Unfortunately, that meant there had been none left over for when she was thrown from a platform, body slamming into the hard ground. Despite her twisted ankle and Poppy’s bleeding forehead, they had managed to get back to the Floo flame but were deposited all the way down at the Boathouse.

“Is that blood?” A horrified voice exclaimed.

Footsteps hurried over to them. Warm hands reached for her cheek, pulling her face into the light so that green eyes could inspect the cut marring her face. Beside her, Ominis was reaching for Poppy, wand waving to assess the damage.

“Don’t worry. It’s not ours. Well.. not most of it.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?!” Garreth shrieked, looping his arm around MC’s wait to help take some of the weight off her swollen ankle.

The two men accompanied their wounded witches to the Hospital Wing. Easing MC onto the stiff white sheets of an unoccupied bed, Garreth dashed into Nurse Blainey’s office, dismayed to find it empty. Tugging at his curls in frustration, he paced back and forth, fretting about his friends.

“Gar, it’s dinnertime.” MC reminded him, voice soft and comforting. “She’s likely in the Great Hall. We can wait, we’ll be fine.”

“No, you can’t,” he said firmly. “You’re injured.” Pain shone in his bright green eyes.

Demanding that Ominis keep a close eye on them, (to which the Gaunt boy promised he’d do his best, prompting MC to giggle), Garreth announced he would go hunt down their healer. Before MC could ask him to stay with her, he was dashing out of the infirmary, robes flapping behind him. She didn’t care about the pain. She had just wanted him to stay.

“I do believe he genuinely forgot how to breathe when he caught sight of you hobbling into the castle. I almost thought I was going to have to carry all three of you into here.” Ominis spoke up, hand twitching as he fought against the urge to reach for his favourite Hufflepuff.

“He did go rather pale when he looked at us,” snickered Poppy.

MC shifted, easing her body into a more comfortable position. “Yes, well, you seem to have that effect on him.” She winced, attributing it to the heat lancing down her spine. Nothing to do with the words she spoke crushing something deep in her chest.

“I don’t think it’s Poppy that makes him forget oxygen is vital to living. Regardless of how adorable she is.” Ominis drawled, taking joy in the pink flush blossoming across Poppy’s cheeks.

“I told you she was oblivious.” squeaked the Hufflepuff.

MC scowled, discontented with the running narrative that she was unobservant. Her perception had saved Poppy’s life earlier, and her body was bruised enough to prove it. It was as if her friends had teamed up to insult her consistently this year.

Fed up with everyone tip-toeing around the fact, Ominis decided he was no longer waiting for her to figure it out. “Please tell me that you are aware Garreth is in love with you, and has been for the past year.”

“If not more.” Poppy chimed in, supporting Ominis’ decision. The rest of the gang decided to let Garreth tell her himself but Poppy knew he would never do it.

“No, he’s not.”

Ominis snorted. “He’s so infatuated with you. Even a blind man could see it.”

“You are blind.”

“Exactly. And I can see it.”

“You can’t see anything,” shot back MC.

She shot her tongue out at him immaturely and whilst he couldn't see it, he had the sense to lean over and punch her in the shoulder. He shrunk back in terror when MC winced and a furious voice reverberated off the flagstones; amplified for his sensitive hearing.

“Why the fuck would you do that. She’s already injured, Ominis. I asked you to look after her whilst I was gone.” Garreth thundered, storming in.

Poor Nurse Blainey was rushing to catch up with him. A slice of carrot cake was cupped in her hand, having been grabbed just as dessert was served.

“Mr Weasley, you made it sound as if the poor thing was on death’s door.” Blainey scolded, saving the blind wizard from Garreth’s wrath.

The healer took MC’s ankle in hand, examining the swollen ligament and apologising as the Hero of Hogwarts gasped in pain. Poppy wrapped a hand around Garreth’s wrist to prevent him from trying to push the healer away.

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#5. Garreth Weasley

Mended and amused by the tension in the room, Poppy thanked Nurse Blainey for healing her before taking her leave from the Hospital Wing. MC had insisted that Poppy be seen to first, despite the Hufflepuff being mainly mended by the earlier Wiggenwelds. MC watched her and Ominis leave, hand in hand. A pitiful sigh escaped MC’s mouth as she watched them. That’s what she wanted. Someone who loved her enough to hold her hand in public, propriety be damned. The only issue was that she would only be satisfied if it was with the man beside her. The man who was also watching the new couple go, an unreadable expression on his face. Most likely agonised over watching the woman he liked walk away with another man. Ominis had finally worked up the courage to ask Poppy to accompany him to The Three Broomsticks.

“Best drink it all in one go, dear.” Nurse Blainey advised. She had mixed numerous healing positions into one foul-smelling tonic, handing it over in a wooden goblet. “You’ll have to stay here for the night whilst your fracture mends but Mr Weasley is welcome to stay with you until curfew. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m hoping I can catch the end of the Feast. I’ve been looking forward to the choir all week.”

Thanking the healer, MC immediately mentally cursed her when she swallowed the contents of her cup. The vile taste of the potion had her gagging, coughing loudly. Instantly, Garreth was there, a glass of orange juice in hand to chase the taste away. He had listened to MC recount the events of her fight - and the extent of her injuries - to Nurse Blainey in complete silence. Even now, he said nothing as the door shut behind the healer. The loud click echoed in her ears, reminding her that the pair of them were entirely alone.

“You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”

Garreth nodded but made no effort to move. An uncomfortable silence settled over them for the first time since their friendship developed. Their time together was usually filled with babbling antics and loud laughter. Now, the pair struggled to string a sentence together. MC’s hands moved towards each other, Garreth’s eyes tracked her movements. Fingers cracking her knuckles, she was desperate for something to focus on. Something aside from the hollow look in Garreth’s eyes. His hand shot out to still hers, and stayed there. His fingers enveloped hers, curling around her. As if he were grounding himself, reminding him that she was still here. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The tissues in her ankle slowly started realigning, pulling a pained gasp from her mouth. The sound dragged an anguished noise from Garreth’s chest.

“Garreth, are you okay?” She whispered, concerned by his unnerving silence.

A bitter laugh escaped his mouth. “Me? You’re the one who had to drag herself back to the castle, injured.”

“I’m fine.” She grabbed his other hand when he turned his head away in disbelief. Garreth’s eyes instantly shot to hers. “Look, I’m alive. Unharmed.”

“But you weren’t!” He snapped. “You went out, alone. In the dark with only Poppy as your backup, and the pair of you came very close to not coming back.”

Her eyes stung at the harsh tone directed towards her. She chalked it up to being overtired and emotionally drained. Not because she felt as if she were being reprimanded.

Garreth charged forward, oblivious to the look on her face. “I spent all evening looking for you, worried out of my mind because nobody knew where the pair of you were.”

“I told Sebastian-”

“Who was hidden away all day in some secret underground only you and Ominis know about!”

Infuriated that tears were still pooling in her eyes, MC snapped back. “I don’t have to tell you where I am every minute of every day. You’re not my keeper! If you’re concerned that I’m dragging Poppy into danger then you should take that up with her! Besides, she’s the one who suggested we go. She made it quite clear it didn’t matter if I came or not so I went for her safety.”

“I don’t care about Poppy!” Garreth exploded, not meaning it in the way it sounded aloud. “Why must you bring her up in every conversation we have? Godric, you make it so hard to care about you sometimes.”

MC sniffed before icily responding. “Then don’t bother. Walk away, Garreth, I’m not your problem.”

Garreth stood, and she thought he was going to listen to her, and leave. She didn’t truly want that but if she were such a burden- The pot at the end of her bed sailed across the room, smacking into the floor with a loud thud. When he turned to face her, there was no anger on his face. Only anguish. He wasn’t mad at her. He was furious with himself, for not being honest. For not being able to say the words desperately hanging to the tip of his tongue. If he had told her the truth last year, perhaps he would’ve been with her at the Poacher camp. Maybe he could have saved her from the bruises welting her back.

“You don’t understand. I want you to be my problem. I want to worry about you, and I want to drag you to the Hospital Wing when you’re injured. Although I would really prefer you remain unharmed. But because I want to hold you in my arms afterwards, knowing you’re safe. I want to comfort you when defeating Poachers doesn’t go the way you expected. I want to take you to Hogsmeade, and hold your hands around the shops. I want to see you laugh, and know why you did so. And, I want to kiss you before a Quidditch match and when you win, even if that means I’ve lost. You are the cause of all my distractions, and the only regret I have is that you fail to understand how deeply I care for you.”

“But, you and Poppy and seem so close?”

Was that really all she could say, MC chided herself.

“Because she’s been trying to convince me to tell you how I feel.”

“Oh.”

“I love you. I am so deeply in love with you that every potion I’ve invented for the past year smells like you.”

And, as his thumb brushed her cheek and he leaned in closer, MC truly believed Garreth Weasley loved her.

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

Green Snake, Red Lion

[Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female]

[warnings: swearing, fluff, physical violence]

[description: Aemond is a Chaser and captain of the Slytherin team. His biggest rival on the pitch from the Gryffindor team, turned to be his biggest fan, and he hates her with all of his heart. His hatred towards her slowly turns into something else, when she one day stands up for his sister, Helaena. This is a slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Aemond left his team's tent furiously. Slytherin lost to Gryffindor by only ten points, as none of the Seekers managed to catch the Golden Snitch before time. Even though Aemond wasn't the only Chaser, he was the captain and he couldn't stand that the opposing player that he had the biggest problem with was a petite, inconspicuous girl.

Solren was a Chaser for the Gryffindor team. She was slim and of slight build so she was fast, agile and light on the broom. It was hard to keep up with her.

She appeared and disappeared suddenly, knocking the Quaffle out of his hand. He was often brutal with her on the pitch, she had more than one strong collision with him which she paid with bruises. He hated her with all his heart.

Even though he repeatedly told his Beaters, his brother Aegon and Darec, to keep an eye on her, they couldn't keep up with her. She dodged the Bludger nimbly, flying remarkably on her broomstick.

She was able to do various stunts on it, much to the delight of the audience. Aemond looked at it with embarrassment. He thought that she was just showing off, trying to get the applause. Nevertheless, nothing annoyed him more than her behavior off the pitch.

He felt like there wasn't a person in the world who loved him more than she did. She praised his skills over, his speed on the broom and the power with which he could throw the Quaffle over the hoop from afar. She always cheered him on at all the Slytherin matches, except of course for those played against Gryffindor.

She never imposed herself on him like the girls who tried to sneak him a love potion drink, but the joy and optimism she felt when she was around him drove him crazy. Sometimes he wanted to punch her. He thought she was just stupid.

He rolled his eye impatiently, letting out a sound of frustration as he walked across the grass to the school grounds and saw Solren waving at him from afar.

She had a cotton swab up her nose, which was oozing blood, another reminder of the collision with him when she tried to take the Quaffle from him. He pursed his lips, thinking that even his elbow in her face didn't bring him victory.

"I'm going to the infirmary right now to see Madame Pomfery, because I think you broke my nose." She laughed a little, as if she was talking about something funny. He looked at her incredulously, not stopping, looking away, impatient.

"I don't know if it makes sense, because I'll probably break it again in the next match." He spoke teasingly and coldly.

She burst out laughing at his words, as if his attitude didn't scare her at all. She pursed her lips in an apparent attempt to contain herself, her eyebrows twitching in helpless amusement.

"Come on, why are you so aggressive. If I broke your nose, you wouldn't stop playing either." She said low, and he gave her a dispassionate look.

"Do you have to follow me?" He asked in frustration, wondering why, among such huge fields of free space, she had to be right next to him, talking to him. She raised an eyebrow at his words.

"I'm sorry that I'm going in the same direction." She muttered, feigning an offended tone, walking a few steps ahead of him, shooting him a defiant look. With a gauze pad stuck up her nose she looked comical to say the least, and she knew it.

"You'll get back at the Ravenclaws. I will be cheering for you." She said with a smile and moved forward quickly, ahead of him. He sighed heavily as she disappeared from his sight.

She always chatted with him after the match. She congratulated him on every success on the pitch with an excitement and joy that left him completely off balance.

He usually didn't answer at anything she said, but she didn't mind that at all. He wondered if maybe she just want to fuck him, like the other girls who had tried to get his attention, with varying degrees of success.

He rejected the thought, however, because she always approached him in public, in front of other people or in plain sight. She didn't try to drag him into the restroom or other secluded places where he satisfied his temporary physical needs with various girls. He had absolutely no idea what to do with her or how to discourage her.

She used to come to all his matches, watching him play. She even painted a banner with his name on it, green and white with tissue paper patterns, which she happily held up in the audience, embarrassing him. His teammates often laughed at her and, wanting to humiliate her, approached her openly about it, asking if she was in love with him.

She replied that she thought Aemond was the best player in the school and that he was her biggest inspiration and authority. She said it so lightly and with such joy that his buddies finally let her go, finding her behavior even cute.

He noticed that she also sometimes praised them after a match if she thought that they played well. She was the only Gryffindor that they talked to without irony in their voices.

He thought that she was an attention-seeking whore, painfully craving the applause of others. She would say all these nice things to have someone praise her too, pat her on the head, tell her how sweet and kind she was.

He was furious when he saw her talking to Helaena in the corridor. His sister was in Ravenclaw. Withdrawn, quiet, a bit mysterious, she sometimes said strange, ill-considered things. He knew that some people in her household avoided her because of this, considering her a weirdo. Aemond knew that she had a naive, tender heart, and that Solren must have easily wrapped her around her finger.

"Stay away from my sister." He'd told her once when he'd approached her after a match, all hot. She gave him a puzzled, confused look, not smiling for the first time when she saw him.

"What?" She asked, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. He moved closer to her, so that no one could hear the exchange between them.

"Stay away from my sister. She is naive, she might believe that you actually like her. But I know that you're a bigger viper than most Slytherins I know." He hissed, leaving her pale and shaken.

There had been a change in her since then that pleased him. She stopped approaching him after matches, stopped bringing that fucking banner, and finally gave him a break from her outward appearances. He thought with relief that she would finally let him go.

One day, entering the Great Hall, he found a scene that knocked him off his feet. His sister was crying softly as she knelt looking at something on the floor between the long tables, a good distance from him. Solren was leaning over her, her back to him, stroking her head. He could barely hear what they were saying.

"He killed Meles. My spider, he was so attached to me." Helaena whispered in a trembling voice, looking at her for understanding and comfort. Solren nodded.

"I know, I'm so sorry. We'll give him a funeral on the common, what do you say?" Solren asked, and Helaena smiled sleepily.

"Do you think I could sing to him?" She asked, and Solren gave her a light, warm laugh.

“We can come up with some kind of funeral march for the spiders. Meles won't be offended for sure." She said softly, Helaena seemed a little less broken than she had just a few seconds ago. The Ravenclaw beside them, apparently responsible for Meles' murder, shook his head in disbelief.

"You're both abnormal. It's just a worm, and this girl is crying like she's lost her mind. Are you sure you shouldn't be at St. Mung's?" He asked Helaena loudly, amused, leaning over her with a biting smile. Solren straightened up, frowning.

"Apologize." She said threateningly, clearly angry. The boy laughed at her words.

"Fuck you and your "magic creatures", play fun funeral for your sweet spider together." He said amused and turned to leave, but Solren grabbed his robe and pulled him so that he nearly fell.

"Apologise, you bastard!" She snarled, and they both began to grapple with each other.

"Fuck off!" He said, grabbing her arm aggressively, trying to pull her away.

Aemond was about to step in and interrupt but Cregan Stark, captain of the Gryffindor team, stopped him. He was a tall, robust dark-haired man, who lifted Solren with ease, tossing the kicking, angry girl over his shoulder.

"Calm down." He said, carrying her back to the Gryffindor table, obviously not wanting his house to lose points. Solren paid no attention to it and pointed her finger at the boy with whom she had just almost fought.

"I will fucking kill you!" She hissed and sighed loudly, lowering her head, letting Cregan put her on the floor after a moment.

He saw them talking about something for a while, Stark trying to calm her down as she gesticulated aggressively, obviously taken over by the whole situation. Her gaze met his and she stopped suddenly, frowning and she turned her face away.

Aemond walked over to his sister and helped her to get up. Helaena held the spider in her hands, or rather what was left of him after he had been crushed.

"I'm sorry." He spoke softly, not knowing how to comfort her. Helaena looked at him sleepily as if she hadn't quite heard what he said.

"We're giving him a funeral. Will you come with us?" She asked, looking at him hopefully.

He wanted to refuse but he thought that he had done nothing to stand up for her. He didn't even react when Solren struggled with that Ravenclaw. He sighed and just nodded his head.

After several minutes the three of them met behind the school grounds in a clearing, under one of the trees. Helaena thought that was the perfect place to bury her dead friend.

Solren brought a small cardboard box into which they placed the remains of his body and closed the lid. Helaena dug a small pit with her hands and placed the box in it, then shoved it all back in.

Helaena and she step back, his sister taking Solren's hand, apparently seeking comfort in her difficult time. Solren stroked her fingers, pursed her lips, real concern on her face. Helaena looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't. After a moment she turned to Solren.

"Will you sing something? I was going to do it, but for some reason I have a very tight throat." She said, sighing softly, her eyes red.

Solren looked at her, then at Aemond, not knowing what to do. She cleared her throat quietly, bewildered.

"I don't know what song would be appropriate for your friend." She said softly, uncertainly. Helena smiled.

"Sing what you think that he might like." She said, squeezing her hand tighter.

They stood there, staring at the mound of fresh earth in front of them. Solren opened her mouth after a moment.

When trust takes you over When the sleep of just falls on your head The moment you shut your eyes, I, under the cover of the night, will run away as far as I can I'll run becasue I can't take it no more I'll run before this love makes me devour you whole ‘Couse the more I want of you, the less I got of me Forgive me Oh-oh-oh-oh Sleep, my love, sleep

She sang it in such a way that it sent shivers down his spine. The song was primal, folk, magical, slow, from the depths of her chest. He was surprised at how pleasant her voice sounded. Helaena looked at her equally surprised, squeezing her hand tighter.

“It was beautiful. Thank you." She whispered.

The three of them walked back to the school grounds, Solren and Helaena still holding hands, walking ahead of him together as if they were a couple. He thought he had judged her very hastily. He looked down, discouraged and tired.

They escorted Helena to the dormitory. As she disappeared through the door, they both looked at each other in silence. He knew that the Gryffindor had a high-stakes match against the Ravenclaws tomorrow. If they won the match, they'd make it to the competition finals on points, even if they lost the next match to Hufflepuff and Slytherin.

"Good luck tomorrow." He said low, turning and walking down the stairs, leaving her with a shocked expression on her face.

The next day, his Slytherin teammates were talking about the upcoming match. He wasn't in the habit of watching them, except from the sidelines, knowing each team's tactics perfectly well.

He was sitting on the couch in their common room, reading a book, preparing for his Potions exam. Aegon walked over to him, sitting on the couch across from him.

"Will you come to the match with us? It's going to be a good show." He said low, brushing his hair casually.

Aemond wanted to answer automatically no, but hesitated. For some reason he wanted to see her fly on a broomstick from the side. Does she have any weak points. He decided that as her opponent, he should have been better acquainted with her personal way of acting on the pitch.

He agreed.

He and his friends settled in the audience. There was beautiful, sunny weather all around them. Some of the Slytherins started whistling and howling as the Gryffindors came onto the pitch. He thought it was childish and watched the whole spectacle dispassionately.

As Professor Hooch released the Golden Snitch and the match began, he was surprised to see how nimbly and quickly Solren grabbed the Quaffle.

She maneuvered confidently and lightly among the other players, not even giving them a chance to react. She immediately hit one of the hoops, making the entire Gryffindor audience roar in ecstasy and joy.

She and the other chaser flew like clockwork, exchanging positions. Several people clapped and shouted with joy as Solren dodged the Bludger, turning the broom 360 degrees without losing focus.

He thought, looking at her sideways, that he was not surprised that he had a problem with her and had to resort to violence.

She played perfectly.

He also noticed, surprised, that she sometimes used his own tricks and feints in the game. He hadn't noticed it before.

He didn't realize that she was actually modeling on him.

He felt a cold sweat on his neck at the thought that everything she had said to him was true.

She really treated him as her authority, and he humiliated her.

He pressed his lips against the unpleasant tightness in his stomach, which he didn't like at all. He didn't want to feel guilty but he knew that he had misjudged her very, very badly. He looked down, thinking of Helaena. That she was the only one standing up for her.

The only one who wasn't laughing at her.

He jumped in place as the rest of the audience when he heard screams and squeals. One of the contestants hit Solren in the head with a Bludger, she spun on her broomstick and fell from a considerable height to the ground, her body limp. He stared at it with wide eye, his mouth parted in disbelief.

"Oh fuck me! Is she alive?!" Said one of his colleagues, horrified, for some reason no one was laughing anymore.

"Sweet Merlin, he hit her right in the head! The only Gryffindor girl I liked to talk to!” Someone else said, there was a commotion around him.

The judge stopped the game by running over to the girl, checking her pulse. Several people from the hospital wing quickly ran to her and lifted her onto a stretcher. Aemond stared at the entire scene unable to move for some reason. He heard the loud pounding of his heart in his ears.

After the game, he sat with everyone in the common room, completely absorbed in his thoughts. All they discussed was the accident, exchanging guesses and information from the hospital wing.

"She still didn't wake up. Poor girl." One of the Slytherins said, sighing heavily. Her other friend laughed, waving her hand.

"Come on, one less Gryffindor is better for our team, right Aemond?" She asked him sweetly, clearly remembering their one-time toilet experience, still hoping for more. Aemond looked up at her.

"Shut the fuck up." He hissed, staring at her with a stony face, his eye dark and dangerous. The girl swallowed loudly, confused and scared, looking away.

He got up from the couch, ignoring the curious eyes of several people who had heard his outburst and left the common room, heading for the hospital wing. He thought that he would go crazy if he didn't go there.

He went inside, looking around. Apart from Solren no one was there, the setting sun pouring in through the great, gothic windows. He walked over to her bed, looking down at her, her head covered with a large bandage, her eyes closed in a deep sleep.

He stood there, staring at her, unable to say anything for a long time. His lip quivered, his heart pounding hard as he finally managed to get it out.

"Forgive me."

_____

What can I say. I love it so much I couldn't wait any longer to show you this. Song that I used in this chapter is real. It's an english translation of first verse of song by Kayah & Bregovic - Śpij kochanie, śpij. You can listen to original, polish version of this song on YouTube. Śpij kochanie, śpij means: Sleep my love, sleep.

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13

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wandasaura · 2 months

Note

hi aura i missed u!! idk i’ve been thinking about the yail au all day it’s driving me insane i think i’m a fein for it but that’s good!! ☺️

so ik it’s canon that ducky gets super hot at night (same) and sleeps with little to nothing on so what would her go to sleeping position be cuz i mean everyone’s got that super duper comfy position

i believe ducky is the type to sleep on her stomach which would drive wandanat crazy cuz the slight arch this creates omggg and shed probably have her arms under the pillow

how would wandanat react to r dressed a bit more “masc” sometimes, like boxers (both the loose comfy ones and maybe the tighter briefs and stuff) or maybe like a wife beater tank top or maybe the combo. like even tho wandanat and r have an age gap, they still know what’s up. like imagine r wearing grey sweats that sag a bit showing off boxers and a white tank top or sports bra type of thing, like wandanat knows. they know. and i know the grey sweatpants theory doesn’t technically work on women, it’s still a look. would stuff like this drive them crazy as it isn’t her usual look? like would r ever even wear this shit lmaoo. if so, is it just in the house as it’s comfy or would she go out in this? just some curious little thoughts !

duckling wouldn't wear this, but in know my place, r steals all of their clothes whenever they're done fucking her into the mattress, so she has a random assortment of clothes and styles. and when they all meet up one night she's dressed in maria's tank, carols boxers, and natasha's sweats wearing wanda's pink slippers that the sokovian didn't even realise was missing. it's not her typical style, but it's also not unusual for her to wear something more masculine when they're just hanging out, but they literally cannot keep their hands off of her knowing that she's wearing their clothes. maria's the first one to crack, and she pulls r into her lap and grabs her tits over the tank and comments on how "little girls should wear bras if they don't want their nipples pinched", and carol smirks about the boxers like, "if you wanted me to use you whenever you should've just asked. don't even have to pull your panties to the side, i can just..." and she snakes her hand into the cut out in the boxers meanwhile wanda and natasha are just ogling her waiting until they can have a turn.

#kmp: asks #a: anon #answered.#𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 ꔫ #minors dni ৎ୭

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thebigoblin · 2 months

Text

dumb & dumber

tags: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Failwolf Derek Hale, Failhuman Stiles Stilinski, is that a tag? it should be actually, Implied Sexual Content, Possessive Derek Hale, Attempt at Humor, Failwolf Betas, they're all just dumb tbh

"You know, you're kind of the worst," he says this with a pout on his face, the television in front of him blinking back his own face at him. He sorta looks cute with a pout. Huh.

Beside him, the couch dips with the weight of his boyfriend. An arm snakes up along the back of the couch, and he moves forward before that arm and his shoulders can make contact. The huff he gets at his pettiness has him scoffing right back.

"You're being petty."

"And you're an asshole. What's new?"

Another huff. A sigh. He stares forward, resolute.

"Stiles, please." Nope. He is not giving in. He deserves to be upset! "Baby," and oh no.

Stiles turns towards his left, and sees the forlorn look on Derek's face. His eyes are searching Stiles', likely trying to impart how unhappy he is, and how much he wants Stiles' forgiveness.

Stiles might have turned around to actually have a conversation, but hey, he's still got the upper hand here. When Derek reaches out to hold his hand, Stiles takes his wayward limbs towards himself and crosses his arms. Derek isn't happy, his nostrils flaring, but hey, Stiles isn't happy, either.

"Why are you so angry at me?"

Stiles instantly points a finger at his dumb boyfriend, wagging it at that dumb gorgeous face to punctuate his point, "Oh ho ho, don't you play the dumb boyfriend card with me! I wish I could tell Lydia she's right and that all men, no matter the age, suck at being a good boyfriend. But welp! I can't, can I? Because even now, after months of us having been together, I cannot tell people I have a boyfriend! Nobody in the fucking pack knows who you are to me, and you know what Erica has been planning, huh? Huh?"

Derek blinks his dumb, gorgeous eyes at him. He has been staring at these eyes for counting on four months now, but he still can't pinpoint what colors they are. Are they blue? Green? Hazel with gold flecks in them?

Fuck. He is getting distracted. He once again wags his finger at Derek's face, who, this time around, wraps his big, rough arms around it and pulls Stiles forward until Stiles stumbles right onto Derek's lap, and really, why is the universe so unfair? Why is Derek in a barely there wife-beater and grey sweats?

"You know what I am to you, Stiles."

Stiles resolutely stares at Derek's chest. His hands are gripped tight in Derek's, but Derek lets one of his hands go free to grab at his chin, forcing him to look up at the eyes that reflect the early morning sun in a deep, beautiful forest.

"Baby, I am yours."

"But not to the world. To them, you're a single, hot, in much need of a date Alpha werewolf. You're not mine in their eyes, Der."

His heart doesn't waver at the truth, but his chemosignals must change because Derek leans down to rub their noses together, dragging his down to Stiles' neck, scenting him.

Claiming him, in a way.

"If Erica is planning a date for me, she's not competent as a wolf. I might not have told them we are dating, but you smelling much more like us should be a clue."

Stiles noses his way down from Derek's nose to his neck, bites at the junction between it and shoulders just to be a little shit. Derek arches under him, and it has Derek's dick, from under the damned grey sweats, rubbing a delicious friction against Stiles' ass.

"We smell good, huh, Alpha?" He could say more, but Derek is already panting like he cannot take it any more, and hey, that is lips on his own and he can't really speak now, can he?

Derek kisses him with passion, pushes him down back on the couch so he is on top of Stiles.

"Erica needs to learn how to use her fucking nose. You smell like mine," Derek's growl has Stiles instantly wanting to take off his clothes and present to him, down on all fours and ready to blackout in bliss for hours, but.

Stiles pushes at Derek's chest so there's space between them, and asks, a bit breathless, "Why haven't we just told them?"

"You're a fucking tease. I'm going to ruin you once this conversation is over, understand?"

Stiles stares back, wide-eyed, pupils evidently dark. Licks his lips. Nods.

Derek grabs his hair and wrenches him in for a deep kiss before letting go, putting space between them.

They don't speak for a few minutes, trying to get back to some semblance of control. Once they are, Derek speaks.

"I haven't told anyone... because I forgot."

If this weren't Derek, and he wasn't Stiles, he would have been offended. Because what the fuck? But he is Stiles, and this is Derek, so.

"You figured everyone would use their super-sniffers?" Derek nods. "Except you also forgot not everyone is a werewolf, and that even those with super-sniffers are idiots. They would first figure out how to stop a bus with failing brakes from crashing by jumping in front of it rather than using their wolf strength to well, pull the bus Superman style."

"Yes, I'm aware my pack is brave but stupid. Especially because their leader is here with me."

"Hey!"

"Then why didn't you tell them?"

Stiles opens his mouth. Closes it. Scratches his head, his hair. Eyes fixed on the TV again, he mumbles, "I thought you didn't want to."

Derek takes his hand and points it at himself with a raised eyebrow. "Me? The one who has been scenting you extensively and making you wear butt-plugs? Me?"

His cheeks color with embarrassment. "Alright! We are both idiots. Got it."

"Truly made for each other." Derek again uses Stiles' hand to pull him forward, right until Stiles stis on Derek's lap. Again. Except this time Derek is already working to make Stiles' jeans dissappear. "Now, tell me about this date Erica has planned for me while you warm my cock with your pretty hole, okay, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha." Oh, coming to the Loft in a fit of anger/sadness was the best course of action today.

And Stiles is definitely going to pilfer that fancy-pants restaurant Erica has reserved for Derek's blind date with one of her college friends for a date for them.

And then he's going to be fucking annoying about calling Derek his, just like he is sure Derek is going to be insufferable about making it clear that Stiles is his in return.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sterek fics #sh.writesonmain #wrote this on monday and cleaned this up today #fun fact: did this while waiting for my turn during the recording of group presentations hehe #this week is so hectic #so glad this is the 2nd last week of sem!!!

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starwarsbian · 2 days

Text

can you feel my heart?

listened to can you feel my heart by bring me the horizon the entire time

p in v, fingering, finger sucking,,leather? pet names, established relationship, emo boy anakin, modern au

tw cw: rough sex, knife play mention, gun play mention, breeding if you squint, impact play, degrading, pussy slapping dick piercing, he calls you his bitch Sorry LOL…

a/n: i would luv to write a part two LOL this is my first time like publically posting smth i wrote be nice to me i also refuse to use capitalization just read it anyway it is also not proofread! at all

anakin pulls up right outside your house in his shitty beater car, and you expect nothing less from him. he looks quite scary to other people, you think, and he is kind of an asshole but he makes up for it.

you get in the car and watch as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth swearing under his breath over how good you look—he’s obsessed. his lip piercing catching on his own teeth he says “fuck, you look good.. always look so fucking good.”

you have no real plans for the day you just needed to see him. you blush and flash him a smile. “thanks, ani. i’m happy to see you. give me a kiss?”

he doesn’t wait a moment to pull you closer to him inside the car and press your lips together. “happy to see you too, baby..what did you want to do?”

“let’s go back to your place, yeah? i have something i want to show you…”

“what? what do you have to show me?”

you shake your head. “not yet, anakin. get me alone.”

“fine, brat.”

anakin pulls out of your driveway and winds down just the few streets that separate your houses. he throws the car into park and all but rips you out of the car. he pulls you into the house by the hand before immediately pinning you against the door as soon as it closes.

“what was that, baby? about showing me something?” he slams his lips into yours again and winds his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck. he tugs and it sends your head tilting back, exposing your throat.

he starts with kisses and that quickly turns to sucking and then that turns into biting.

he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and squeezes your left breast; pinching your nipple through your bralette.

“yeah…i do. take my shirt and skirt off, ani.”

and he does, maybe too fast for his liking. he kicks himself metaphorically for not taking more time but as his attention comes back to the present his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you wearing a lacey black bralette with matching panties and..bands of leather wrapped around your plush thighs. you purposely put them on in a way where your flesh bulges just a little between the gaps. they’re simply decorative and don’t specifically serve a purpose for you but a dirty, dirty thought goes through anakins head.

“jesus christ. jesus. fucking. christ. get to the bedroom, now,” anakin growls.

you throw yourself down onto his bed and wait for him to come press his body on top of yours but he doesn’t. instead he fucks around with his phone, making you feel ignored and pout.

“ani, i put this on for you. what are you doing?”

“fuck, baby. just wait a second. i’m going to absolutely ruin you and as much as i’d love for the neighbors to hear me fucking wreck you..i think you’d prefer if they didn’t? or do you not want me to play music?”

you’d rather him do everything he wants to you without worrying about sound. “play the music, anakin.”

he presses play and can you feel my heart starts. anakin takes his shirt off in that way that guys do where they reach behind themselves to grab the back of their shirt— yknow that way. his shoulders and arms are your obsession, honestly and the movement is delightful to watch.

he pounces on the bed and grabs you by the waist, pulling you up to meet his kiss. his very hard, messy, fast kiss. it’s seconds before his hands snake down your body, sliding his fingers under the straps on your thighs before hiking you up onto his lap. resting against his cock. anakin uses the straps to push you back and forth on top of him. the friction makes him stutter and his eyes are low with need.

“you put these on for me to grab? you thought id like to see you dressed like a slut..with special little handles for me to hold while i wreck you.”

“yes-yes ani. this is what i wanted.”

he slaps your cunt. a first for you and him but the pathetic look on your face made it clear you planned to tease him. anakin doesn’t like to be teased. he owns you and he doesn’t need to play games about it.

“i’m gonna hold them and fuck you then. pull you hard back against my cock and listen to you scream.”

his hand slides down your front pressing his fingers against your clothed clit. a moan escapes your mouth..anakin holds the left side of your face and pauses to ask, “is this okay? can this be rough? can i slap you around like a whore..”

“fuck, yes. hit me anakin. please, baby. fucking smack me. hurt me”

a huge grin spreads across his face as he pulls back his right hand and slaps you straight across the face. once..twice..three times. your eyes water and your cunt throbs…feeling your heartbeat in two places.

“you’re such a fucking slut. what kind of whore calls her boyfriend to come get her just to be smacked around and fucking used. that’s what i’m going to do. i’m going to use you.”

shivers are sent up your spine at the sound of his words. you love when he talks to you like this. anakin tears off your matching set with absolutely no regard to what you want to do with it. the song continues in the background and you let yourself moan at his eagerness and disregard.

“please, anakin. i want you to use me. that’s what i’m for.”

he slaps your cunt again and you buck your hips towards him as he grinds his thumb down a little too hard on your clit and leans down to pant in your ear.

anakin unbottons his black jeans and kicks them off while you watch, mesmerized by the outline of his hard cock in his boxers. his expression hardens even more and he smirks as you reach out, hoping he’d let you touch him.

“come here, then, darling. come touch it.”

you’ve done this with anakin before but your breathing is still shaking and your hands tremble as they pull down his boxers. he’s so hard..his tip weeping and bordering on purple..the shiny barbell through his cock still takes your breath away. you rub your thumb across the tip and hear anakin hiss.

“i just want to fuck you, don’t worry about me. lay down and spread your legs.”

you do as he says and you expect him to go in the direction of preparing you to take him but instead he kisses and bites your thighs. he sucks and takes his time working you up. your cunt is dripping right in front of him.

“you look so pretty..your cunt looks so fucking pretty, angel. god, you drive me fucking insane. i don’t know how i control myself most of the time. i think of the dirtiest things to do to you, baby and you don’t even know.”

“like what anakin? show me..let me feel it.”

anakin scoffs and laughs at you. “i don’t know, baby. i don’t want to hurt you if you don’t want to be hurt. you know i love you? right?”

“fuck, anakin. yea i know. i love you i want you to ruin me. do it now im tired of asking.”

something inside him breaks. he grabs your hips bruisingly hard and spits in your face.

“who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, slut? because i know it can’t be me. say you’re sorry. now.”

you shake your head…knowing it’s going to piss him off even more.

“no? what do you mean no? did you fucking hear me,” he growls at you before supporting the side of your face with his hand and smacking you scarily hard. he wraps his hands around your throat, only squeezing the sides. he doesn’t actually want to hurt you; not like that.

“you’re my bitch. i’m going to take you like you’re my bitch,” his voice softens “your safe word is flower. don’t hesitate to tell me if it’s too much, okay? i still want to take care of you and i swear i’m going to make you feel good.”

you blush and nod as he moves his hand up towards your face again..you flinch; fully expecting him to slap you again, but he doesn’t. he wants you to open your mouth and suck on his fingers.

anakin fucks your throat with them, rings and all. you choke on the metallic taste and stare at him with glassy eyes as you do what he expects.

“mmm..m gonna fuck you with these. roll over. darling.”

you roll onto your tummy and feel anakins hands glide up and down your thighs and ass. he teases and touches your slit..

“awe baby…she’s crying for me do you feel that? wants me so bad…,” as he spreads your lips enough to see you’re aching hole and pretty little clit. he pinches it…twisting between his fingers just a little. he stops and slaps your cunt again before splitting you open with two fingers without a warning.

you gasp and force your hips back towards the intrusion; sending anakin even further into you than he was planning. “well baby..since you insist,” he chuckles.

anakin begins to finger you at a devastating pace and angle. the feeling of you on his hand is almost as good as on his cock. he loves to feel you clench and see you whine when he purposely strokes your g-spot. he speeds up: massaging and prodding the soft spot inside you while you moan and desperately try to get him to kiss you.

he grabs the straps around your thighs and lifts you onto his lap. “grind on me, babe. feel how hard i am for you.”

“ani…i want you. i want your cock. come on stop teasing.”

“nothing is ever good enough for you huh? you’re so fucking pathetic and needy. come here.”

anakin lines himself up with your weeping hole and forces himself all the way in. he presses on your lower stomach and bites your shoulder.

“you look so beautiful. stay still for me.”

anakin holds you a few inches above his lap before he starts to thrust up into you. you drip further down his cock and he can’t help but stuff you full as soon as possible.

“i wanna fucking hurt you..i want to cut you. sweetheart…i wanna hold a knife to your pretty little throat or better yet? a gun to your head. letting you suck my cock shaking with fear ‘ani!! no! please don’t hurt me’ but really all i want is to fuck your throat while you’re so scared you’re Soaked.”

your heart races and you nod rapidly, unable to even get words out of your mouth.

anakin pushes harder into you and feels you throb around him..your clit aches for his fingertips. he tells you to turn around; his cock inside you but with your back pressed against his chest. he continues to fuck up into you and wraps his hand around your throat..hard enough to feel your pulse.

“i can feel your heart pounding. you like this? you like when your boyfriend says dirty things to you and fills you to the brim with cock? you’re so excited, huh?”

his grin can be felt against your shoulder while he reaches to your front. using his center two fingers he does small quick circles on top of your clit. “i can feel your heart here too, love.”

heat spreads across your entire body as you give in completely to whatever anakin wants from you.

this is for u bae @jjjajjaahhahahaha

#Spotify #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #emo boy anakin #modern au #star wars smut #this was self indulgent #i’m a lesbian but hc has me by the throat

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lorrainmorgan · 2 months

Text

Beaters Baes 💖

Aaaand that's how Millie met Lorrain.

👉 The cutie & energetic Millie belongs to @the-ozzie. 🫰Thank you for letting me draw her interacting with Lorra! You're amazing and she's amazing and hawijfeodjkasjlmdkm 🐍 happy snake noises 🐍

👉 Ominis is NOT happy Lorra is joining the Quidditch team+ her being a beater."Too risky" he says...

👉 I did not see coming that heart shape at the last panel... Coincidence?

👉 Pokemon reference? Yass.sss

#hogwarts legacy #slytherin #hogwarts legacy mc #Millie Claire #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanart #omrra #lorrain morgana #quidditch #ominis gaunt

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cherry-pop-elf · 3 months

Text

Pretty Rain Cloud

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can he read as Platonic As Well, because Platonic love is valid AF!

You were in a horribly sour mood. You swore you would never smile again, and never be happy. No way. Of course, you make this vow to the likes of Fred and George. What were you thinking?

Warnings: Umbridge. She’s a warning in general/Set during Order Of The Phoniex: Slight blood, tending to wounds, intense stress, I mean it’s about Umbridge. You know what’s up

Writing Commissions Open

“Never ever ever again-!” You sniffled, as Fred was currently being your support. Letting you lean his head on his shoulder, as you two sat in The Room Of Requirement’s. Everyone busy with their Defense Practices, while George was busy cleaning the newly made scar on your hand. How it ached, and still burned. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but that toad knew how to make it hurt.

“Oh don’t go saying something like that-“ George would pipe up, as he wade sure your wound was clean. Having had plenty from Umbridge, let alone from the crazy life he lived in general. “We love your smile-“ Fred was quick to echo, as you would squeeze his hand. Since the pain of the fresh scar was so sharp.

“But you heard her. She said I was ‘Smiling To Much, And Distracting The Class’ and all that-!” You hiccuped, as George was finished with wrapping your hand. Being extra cheesy with kissing it. In the hopes you could smile again. To think, she would find a way to punish anyone wand everyone. You were wondering if she was just doing this to hurt Fred and George. Yet, it seemed like no one would escape her wrath. Not even Draco.

“Oh she hates that you actually have a pretty smile, and she doesn’t.” Fred tried to reason, as he rubbed your shoulder. Letting his older brother instincts take over. Doing whatever he could to help you. All the same with George, who remained at your feet. Holding that wounded hand, and feeling the pain throbbing into his own. How the white fabric was already growing a red tint.

“When that’s all healed up, gonna slather it in our latest invention. It’s a bruise removal puddy we got working on-“ George tried to cheer you up with, as Fred would pull out the tin. Inside was a shiny goop. Was rather similar to a glittery dark grey puddy. It did have you curious, but you refused to smile. As if those twins would quit that easy.

“How about this new candy we just made-“ George offered, as he pulled out another tin. Rattling it around. You were not budging. They loved a challenge anyway. They were older siblings, to Ron and Ginny. Harry as well, if anyone got technical with it. That boy was horribly traumatized, yet they could still get him to grin ear to ear. They won’t give up on you just like that. No sir.

“What about….” Fred hummed, as he looked around. They were inventors. Men that thought outside the box. They could figure this out. Those for eyes would scan the room, and watch as everyone would practice. Mastering the spells that she refused to teach. Seeing the dummy’s go flying had sparked an idea. The duo looked to each other, and just grinned.

“Up ya go-!” They said, before suddenly having their arms under each one of yours. Lifting you up, and making your legs kick and dangle. You were basically being kidnapped now. Those darn twins, and being stupidly tall. Along with strong. Even though Umbridge basically banned Quidditch, that didn’t stop the twins from practicing their beater skills.

“Where are we going-?” You asked, just accepting your fate. Better that way. You’ve seen what happened when people tried to escape. You knew you weren’t in actual danger. If you asked them to put you down, they would. They were pranksters, not monsters. Like how they made sure not to do pranks that involved books around Ginny, ever since the Snake Incident. Moral code, that just likes to bend a little bit.

“And here-!” Plopped down you went, with a brow raised. Just in front of one of the many test dummies the room held. Where was this going? Seemed everyone was now looking, fascinated at what the twins were planning. Ron was already grabbing your arm, and pulling you a solid five steps back. Ginny having mimicked the same action with Luna. Given she was spaced out a bit.

“Just five seconds-“ “-We know what we are doing-!” They spoke, which made everyone back up an extra large step. A mixture of curiosity, yet total anxiety at the same time. Just left to wondering what the ever living hell those two were doing, with the dummies right now. Casting quick spells, and working fast. In a blink, it was made clear.

“TA DA-!” They sung, as their ingenuity was unmatched. With some color changing spells, and some quick shifting of fabric, the dummies were turned into mock up dolls of the pink toad herself. “Not as ugly as her, but it gets the job done-!” They echoed, as they knocked on the dummies head. Having poorly done lipstick on. Given they had a little sister, and were basically the dorms collective older sibling, it was on purpose.

“HAVE AT IT-!” They chanted, before quickly ducking away. As if everyone was on edge to fire. They were, but you were able to have the first swing. A proud Flipendo Maxima was called by you, and that pink dummy went flying. Right into the wall, with a loud crumple, before being a crumpled up mess on the ground. You were just giggling in glee, as you did something you wish you could have to the real one.

“To easy-“ The twins snickered to each other, with such pride. Elbows to each other, before they were returning to your side. Watching as the other students would take advantage of this as well. All needing some serious stress relief from that hag. Everyone was able to gain some smiles, and you were included.

You could hardly recall you even dared made a promise like that around them. To never smile again. Maybe, deep inside, you knew what you were doing. That deep down you did deserve to smile. To spite that woman. No matter what your head said, you knew this. Never challenge a Weasley. Let alone the twins. They’ll make you smile, one way or another.

@george-weasleys-girl

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latoyalestrange · 1 year

Text

stay

seb. sallow x f!reader

“you know that i hate this place, but if you wanna stay, i do too

we’ll let the night turn to day, but i’m down either way

cause i’m so down for you”

summary: how could you possibly help attending a party celebrating your incredible win in quidditch? sebastian isn’t one for parties, but he can’t seem to leave you…

words: 1.3k

warnings: fluff, pining, aged up seb and mc, jealousy, suggestiveness, not edited

sebastian didn’t know what it felt like for someone to be proud of him. all his uncle solomon told him was how disappointed he was in him and how foolish he was. he did know, however, what it felt like to be proud of someone else. that was the best way to describe how he felt about you. prideful.

having you on his arm made him puff out his chest and hold his head a bit higher. the brilliant, stunning new witch that single handedly saved hogwarts, and, most importantly…the only person in this world that had ever truly understood him.

so who could blame him for physically being unable to say no to you? seeing you beg…did things to him. the way you drawled out his name in a melodic voice send bumps across his skin.

“sebastiaaan…please? for me?”

god...what was a man to do?

"sure, just for a few minutes, okay?" your sounds of excitement forced the corners of his mouth to turn upward brightly at you.

"this is gonna be so fun!" for a moment, perhaps you had him convinced. seeing you this elated was making his heart flutter in his chest and he suddenly would do anything to keep you happy.

"can't believe you got him to say yes," ominis commented shortly as he watched you practically drag him towards the slytherin common room.

"we won tonight, how can we not celebrate?" you asked innocently, halting in front of the blonde-haired boy.

"you mean you won," ominis corrected her. the slytherin's couldn't deny it, you had taken well in your role as a beater, practically wiping the competition in that night's game.

"someone has to be the humble slytherin," you joked back.

"speaking of humble," garret appeared next to the trio that was still stalling outside of the party, snaking through them to enter the door. sebastian instantly tensed up. "how about a toast to the mvp of the night!" you peered over the stone railing to see a sea of students cheering for garreth's words. you scanned the crowd to see enchanted instruments in one corner, an established table for drinks.

you smiled as you gazed down at them, feeling bashful. sebastian sighed behind you.

"lets go!" you instantly started down the stairs, careful to weave in between your classmates and leaving sebastian in your dust. he watched you find your way to the middle of the room, running into poppy and amit, who were nursing drinks of their own, casually swaying to the music and socializing. a few paces to the right, a couple had claimed one of the couches, ravaging each other as if no one were around.

at first, it displeased him. then, reminding himself of why he was still there, he thought of what it would feel like to mark you like that in front of everyone. nevermind. i can't be here.

"y/n! wait!" you could hardly hear him over the music and loud drone of conversations going on around you. sebastian was less careful trying to chase after you, bumping into a few people along the way. it took him a while, but when he caught up to you, garreth had found you in the crowd again, and this time he was holding a vial of what he instantly recognized as fire whiskey. sebastian pushed forward to meet your side just as you had accepted the vial. his arm instinctively clung to your waist.

"hey, i'm leaving. i prefer sleep over drunk people--" as if a switch had gone off, your face fell into disappointment.

"already? don't you want to have a drink? maybe we can dance!" your giddiness made it impossible. you were looking forward to touching him. once again your pleas cast a spell on him, and he was unable to deny you of everything you wanted.

"yeah, i can stay a while, i guess. i-if you want me to stay, i'll stay." stay smooth, sallow. you giggled, followed by a shy hiccup. he couldn't help but chuckle along with you. he found his eyes lingering on yours for a little too long. you didn't avert your gaze or your smile, despite it.

"I would really like it if you would stay, sebastian." the corner of her lip found itself in between her teeth in an inviting bite.

"it's settled then--"

"y/n! one, two, three!" garreth and a few of his friends gestured for you to take your elixir along with them. you quickly looked to sebastian, whose expression was blank. you thought of your victory, your reputation, your personal bucket list. you succumbed to peer pressure and downed the fiery liquid in one go. it felt like your entire throat was burning as your eyes squeezed shut to dull the disgust. a few people turned into almost the entire gathering as they erupted in excitement.

sebastian shook his head, his smile unfading. floating instruments coming into his view snapped his eyes away from you as they stayed to circle the room in the air. when he looked back down at you, two other quidditch captains were ushering a chair beneath you and hoisting you in the air. they jostled you to the beat. you regained eye contact with him to shrug.

sebastian had suspected he would regret his decision in staying, but he wasn't anticipating it to come this fast. it wasn't that he was angry that you were getting recognition for you efforts, not at all. it was the false, parasitic companionship that he hated. he saw right through people like garreth, imelda, and various others. they couldn't have cared less when they were teasing you as you were first arriving. but as soon as you had gained notoriety, they came flocking to you. he wanted to protect you from being used. more importantly, though, he wanted to protect you from being taken from him. that, he absolutely could not bare.

tonight, though, he would push aside his feelings. you deserved to be celebrated to the nth degree. watching you be carried away, glanced around for his second favorite person. he spotted the slytherin boy leaning on the wall near the grand windows. sebastian made his way through the crowd to finally join him.

"she has you wrapped around her finger, sebastian," he teased, earning an annoyed scoff from his friend.

"impossible," he argued, still eyeing you from a distance. he saw as they clumsily set you down. you eventually made it to the floor in one piece and he could no longer see you in the masses.

"you'd think she'd casted imperio on you. i've never seen you so--"

"okay, alright, fine..." sebatian stammered. "i'm pretty sure we're made for each other or something but that does not mean i'm wrapped around her finger."

"if that comforts you, so be it." sebastian rolled his eyes and tried searching the common room for you again. the music coincidentally changed to a more romantic, sultry tune. his eyes, almost as if they knew, finally fell on you. you swayed to the beat alone, eyes only on him. almost as if you were luring him out to sea, he was pulled to you, quickly meeting you half-way through the people.

"dance with me." your voice almost echoed around him, ghosting his ears like an enchantment. he nodded slowly, absentmindedly, but fully aware of his decision. he had been waiting. this was exactly what he was holding out for. his palm raised to flatten against yours, fingers intertwining slowly, as if he were savoring it. sliftly, he pulled you in with his other hand by your waist, closing the gap between you. twirling around, he showed you off, ensuring everyone knew you were there with him.

sebastian changed his mind as quickly as he had made it up. it was the perfect night, and a moment worth waiting for.

#Spotify #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts oc #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #harry potter cu #sebblurb

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verslxt · 9 months

Text

"sunnnaaaa my feet hurttt" you complained looking up at your husband suna rintaro. you two have been dating since about 2nd year of high school, he preposed to you on the court (newww storryy ;) after his game against MSBY. suna glanced down at you

"well princess, you shouldn't have work heels to a team brunch, that you wanted to walk too" he smiled down at you, as you glared up at him

"asshole." you said as you pulled out your phone and saw that atsumu got engaged "atsumu got engaged" you showed suna the instagram post

"i actually hate his fiancee" suna admitted as you two reached the brunch place. you looked up at suna "why?"

suna looked down at you "shes whitewashing you, remember how you used to get your hair all done and stuff, and like you didn't always straighten your hair, you got more insicure about your skin and shit-8 please" suna told you getting cut off by the waiter asking how many people were going to be there

~that night~

you felt sunas hands snake around your waist as you were showering "awww look at that my pretty girl is looking more pretty girlie" he smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple. you smiled and washed the conditioner out of your hair "so i need to talk to you after you get out of the shower, just come downstairs". suna smiled and kissed your lips "alright pretty girl"

you got out of the shower grabbing your hair stuff, you grabbed out some lacy panties, a sports bra, an old sweatshirt from high school and some nike pros (shorts, spandex ion really give a fuck). you went down stairs after you got dressed and waited for suna.

suna got out of the shower and went downstairs to see you, with a coconut red bull in your hands and your phone in your other. he smiled at you

"hey there pretty girl" he sat down by you in some grey sweatpants "so what did you wanna talk about?"

you looked up from your phone, you also set it down. you sighed "is yuki really whitewashing me?" you looked really sad and suna noticed it

"yes, she really is, remember when you used to go get your hair done with arans wife, and you two would go get your nails done together and you used to call tank tops wife beaters and now you rarely get your hair done, you still get your nails done, but they don't look that good, they really belong on a white girl, not the prettiest mixed girl that i've ever seen, and now you rarely wear tank tops, baggy jeans, and talk with your cute little southern draw, love, she whitewashed you" suna reached over and dried some of your tears that fell "now what would you like, hugs, cuddles and a scary movie, should we both kinda like drop atsumu, wanna go over to osamus and and see the baby, and your literal best friend? choice is yours pretty girl, choice is yours"

you smiled as suna dried your tears "can we just cuddle and talk, kinda like how we did in high school?"

suna smiled "of course we can pretty girl, of course we can"

#suna rintarō #suna x you #suna x reader #suna rintaro scenarios #haikyuu suna #black reader x suna

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historia-vitae-magistras · 1 month

Note

Any wholesome headcanons about Jack?

At any point in his life, whenever he splits something with Zee, whether it's a sandwich, an orange, a chocolate bar, or anything, he always automatically gives her the larger piece if it doesn't come out perfectly 50/50. He does not even question it. In any time of shortage if he gets his hands on something, it gets put away until he sees her and he can split it.

He teaches children's swimming lessons and works as a life guard. He's the best swimmer in the family and probably made his first swim across the strait of Dover in the 1890s after he had to dig his self respect out of the bottom of Mariana's trench after his failed attempt at naval service.

My god does he love animals. There is not a creature under the sky, much less his own, he views as gross. At worst its going to be misplaced. But everything from spiders to snakes to terrifying birds he will tenderly take outside or treat like babies.

He often naps on warm rocks.

His pockets are often filled with odd things. When Jack wears cargo shorts or packs a bag by the end of the day there will be random shit in in there. Orange juice, egg beaters, a stapler, maybe a granola bar.

He's a chronic snacker. His love can be bought with calories as currency. Feed the boy and he'll love you forever.

He's very much an art aficionado, especially sculpture and architecture and often surprises people with just how much he knows about architecture especially.

#i hope those count as wholesome #i feel like my wholesome counter is a bit fucked but alas #hws australia #jack || a land of summer skies #probis pateo || the ask box

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thecuriousquest · 9 months

Text

Ink, Roses, and Lightning

Yandere Laxus x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Summary: Tattoo artist Laxus does your back. Will you end up with the design that you intended on getting?

Warnings: Yandere themes, tattoo gun, tattooing, needles, forced kissing, non-consensual touching

Checkout my Master List here.

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You walk into the tattoo parlor by yourself, nervous as can be. It’s your first tattoo after all. You have no idea what to expect. After countless weeks of searching for a simple design, you settle on three roses between your shoulder blades.

After letting the front desk know that you’re ready for your appointment, you’re taken into a room by a rather large man named Laxus. You can see a few of his tattoos underneath his black wife beater, and you compliment his ink.

“I really like that chest tattoo. It’s pretty cool.”

You’re surprised when he smirks at you. “Thanks. So, you’re looking to get some roses on your back. That right?”

You nod in a shy manner.

“I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off.”

“Oh, um…okay.” You hesitate before deciding to rip the bandaid off. With your shirt over your head, you fold it nicely and place it on an empty chair in the room.

“If you could just lay down on the table, then we can get started.”

You lie down, but then another issue arises.

“I’m not trying to flirt with you here, but why did you wear a bra like that when you’re getting something done between your shoulder blades?”

You didn’t even think about it that morning. Your bra crosses in the back and hooks in the front. Mortified, you can feel an embarrassing blush creep across your cheeks.

“I’m guessing I’ll have to take it off.”

“Yeah, that would be a good start.”

Sighing, you prop yourself up on the table and take off your bra. You snake your forearm in front of you as quickly as you can manage and throw the bra on your shirt. Lying back down on the table, you bite your lip, looking at him through batting eyelashes.

“Are we okay to start now?”

Something…all of a sudden doesn’t feel right with the way he’s looking at you. Is that carnal desire glimmering in his eyes? You try to tune these thoughts out and just get on with the session, so you put your head down on the reclined chair and try to relax.

“Yeah, just keep still. If you need a break, let me know.” Laxus lines up your stencil and begins dipping the needle in ink. “So, this is your first tattoo right? Not much to be nervous about. The pain fades pretty quickly.”

You feel the needle dig into your skin uncomfortably as he works the gun between your shoulder blades. Grunting, you nod your head.

“Yeah, this will be my first piece. Ah…shit, I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

“Just breathe. You’re doing great. Don’t cry or anything like that. I told you if you need a break, we can stop. Alright?”

It hurts a lot, but you haven’t started crying. You’re very proud of that fact. Clenching your hands seems to help with pain management.

“Laxus…how much more do you have to do?”

“Oh, we’re almost done, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? What the hell?

“I’m just putting the finishing touches on now.”

Trying to relax, you shake the thoughts of him calling you a pet name from your mind. Before you know it, the session is over, and Laxus has this grin on his face as if he’s looking over a master piece.

“Is it all done?”

“Yep. Want me to take a picture and show you?”

Nodding, you give him your phone so that he can snap a pic of your new back tat. When he shows you the screen, your smile fades into a look of pure horror.

Right underneath the stencil of the three roses you originally wanted is LAXUS in black cursive letters inside of a scarlet heart. Feeling betrayed, you sit up immediately and glare at him with shock and an open mouth.

“What the fuck did you do to my back?!”

Laxus grabs your jaw. “You’re too pretty to go around without my name on your body. People need to know who you belong to. It’s alright. No need to get so upset. I’ll take you on a proper first date in a bit.”

You move to strike him, but he’s faster. He catches your wrist in a bruising grip.

“That wasn’t very nice, my little lightning bolt. If you want to get feisty, I can be just as playful.” His lips crash down on yours, taking your breath away.

You push at his chest, but it’s like trying to move a brick wall. Laxus brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. His gaze has intensified tenfold as he looks at you with absolute hunger. You try to fight him, but he only pins both of your wrists above your head with one hand.

“I’ve got an appointment in a few, so I’ll have to let you go home for now. Don’t worry, though. I’ll find you and take you on that date I promised. Just remember, nobody gets to have you but me.”

He traces your nipple with his tongue before letting you scurry over to your clothes. Terrified by his brute strength, lust, and troublesome promise, you run out the door once your dressed, not even bothering to pay.

#yandere #triggering content #triggering themes #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #fairy tail #fairy tail laxus #laxus dreyar #ft laxus #yandere laxus dreyar

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

Green Snake, Red Lion (2)

[Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female]

[warnings: fluff, mention of injury and coma]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

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Solren didn't wake up until four days later and Aemond couldn't concentrate on anything because of that. After he had gone to see her in the infirmary after her accident he did not return there again, not wanting to be caught in the act. For some reason the thought of her, that she might never play again, made him feel even worse and more depressing than usual.

His secret source of information was Helaena, who sat by her bedside for hours after her classes, embroidering and talking to her, telling her about her day. Aemond chatted to her once a day, pretending to be casual chat, and she told him about her condition. He felt like he had a huge stone in his stomach every time she told him that she still hadn't woken up.

On the fourth day, during breakfast, one of the Gryffindor Beaters, Romulus, ran to his table and loudly said that Solren had woken up. All the Gryffindors received this information happily, a few people got up to go in a larger group to visit her in the hospital wing. He sighed softly, relieved, and went back to eating his scrambled eggs with a little more appetite.

It turned out that Madame Pomfery properly coped with the task, and the severe trauma to the skull healed. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries, and within a week Aemond saw her for the first time in the Great Hall, greeted by cheers from the Gryffindor table.

Lots of her friends stood and came over to embrace her and talk to her. Aemond noticed with surprise that several of his team members had also come over to talk to her and ask how she was doing.

He pursed his lips at the thought that he didn't have the courage or the strength to wish her well. He knew that nothing he said would erase what he had done to her.

Due to an injury, she was unable to play in the next match between Gryffindors and Slytherins, while watching from the audience. Aemond was discouraged. Without her, constantly confronting him and throwing him off balance, he won point after point.

They would have won even if their Seeker hadn't caught the Golden Snitch, but he did, and the match was over after half an hour. However, he wasn't satisfied, knowing that their team was weakened and it wasn't a complete victory for him.

He saw out of the corner of his eye, hot, as he took a sip of water from a glass bottle that Solren had come down to them, comforting her team, chatting casually with them about some nonsense. His colleagues would say something to him and he would respond with grunts, but he couldn't concentrate. He looked away as she looked at him, all tense.

He felt a pang of disappointment as he saw her turn and go to the Gryffindor tent, talking to Cregan Stark without approaching them as was her habit.

He thought that he was a desperate idiot, obviously missing her attention which had infuriated him not so long ago. He thought that he deserved it and went to change. He took a quick shower and changed into his usual school clothes. His colleagues sang and rejoiced, bare-chested, happy to win.

They tried to stop him and force him to celebrate with them, but he didn't feel like it. He wanted to go to the library, write his overdue essay for the History of Magic and have some quiet time. For some reason he had a huge migraine and felt like his head was about to burst.

When he entered the common library he immediately took the last free table. He searched the bookshelves, looking for topics related to demonology and wizards' pacts with demons. The topic of the essay was vague to him and too much about legends and superstitions instead of knowledge, but he couldn't help it.

He picked up a few books, returned with them to his table, and began flipping through them. He took a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell from his bag and began to write. He had trouble getting the words out physically, but in his head he could formulate rich, complex thoughts and sentences that he put on paper. He knew that he was one of the best students in the year and if he kept up like this he would have a chance to become a prefect.

He involuntarily looked up as he heard another person enter the room. He froze when he saw that it was Solren, standing in the middle of the room with books clutched to her chest, looking for an empty space.

She glanced at him and his nearly empty table, but turned away immediately, disheartened, thinking hard about who to join. For some reason Aemond felt his heart pounding hard at the sight of her. He had wanted to talk to her, but had no idea where to begin.

He cleared his throat loudly and pulled out the chair next to him, letting her know that she could sit down. He could feel her looking at him, unsure if she should.

After a while he heard her sit down next to him, placing her books in front of her, bending over them, reading. He saw that she was going through the potions chapters that they were already working on in common classes with the Gryffindors. He thought that she had a lot of catching up to do with her injury which she needed to make up.

He wanted to start a conversation, but he couldn't, his voice stuck in his throat. His pride kept him from saying anything. Everything he could think of sounded unnatural and forced.

He didn't want to make a desperate fool of himself and he decided that he should just let it go and doesn't think about her anymore. They sat next to each other in silence, leafing through the pages.

The students slowly began to leave the library, however, she was still sitting, looking through her potions book. He saw that she read the same chapter several times, slowly dozing off, resting her head on her elbow. He wondered what she was doing and then realized that she was afraid Snape would start questioning her tomorrow about lessons she missed.

Snape loved to torment the Gryffindors and often questioned them at the beginning of each class. He watched it with satisfaction, seeing how the boys bursting with their Gryffindor Pride on a daily basis suddenly shriveled up in themselves, unable to utter a word.

But Solren was always prepared.

In fact, Aemond had the impression that Snape was more gentle with her. She always listened carefully to his lectures and took notes, focused. She didn't laugh or fool around with the others, not wanting to annoy him. He did not give her a rebate, but he was not as cruel to her as he was to others, having more patience for her.

In the end it was just the two of them in the library, the dark rooms around them filled only by candlelight. He tore himself from writing, dipping his quill in ink and was surprised to see that she had fallen asleep, her hands on the table in front of her, her face turned towards him, her eyes closed.

He never got a chance to get a good look at her because he just didn't like her. Now, however, he had to admit with regret that she had a warm, gentle, pleasant face.

He flinched as she suddenly opened her eyes and their gazes met. They stared at each other intensely, and the longer it went on, the more he felt like he should say something, because the atmosphere was getting awkward to say the least.

He cleared his throat softly, glancing at his parchment, the fingers from his arm stretched out on the table restlessly, tracing the cover of one of his books.

"When will you return to playing matches?" He finally managed to force himself out, feigning indifference, without looking at her.

He heard her shift in her seat, but she didn't move, her cheek still pressed against her crossed arms on the table. She didn't answer for a moment.

"I don't know." She said softly, weakly.

The sound of her voice startled him and made him glance at her uneasily. Usually she spoke energetically and with verve, bursting with emotion. He thought that this kind of voice didn't suit her. He felt an unpleasant knot in his stomach at her words.

"Meaning?" He asked, looking at her intensely.

He didn't know what he needed this knowledge for. He wanted to mentally prepare himself for when the Gryffindor team would be challenge for him again. He heard her sigh softly.

"I really don't know. When I walk sometimes I get dizzy and suddenly feel weak. In that state I would just slide off the broomstick and be just a burden to the team." She said softly with a hint of regret and sadness, not looking at him but somewhere in front of her, lost in thought.

He swallowed softly, not knowing what to say. The thought that he might not play with her any more didn't pleased him. On the contrary, he felt a surprising kind of disappointment.

"They are no challenge without you." He grunted and pursed his lips, looking away quickly, embarrassed by the way it sounded.

He saw that she looked at him in surprise, he had even the impression that she blushed slightly at his words. She smiled warmly in the way she used to do before when it still annoyed him. Now the sight sent shivers down his cheeks.

"If I didn't know you, I'd take it as a compliment." She said softly, raising an eyebrow in amusement, her expression warm and happy as if she had suddenly come back to herself. He wondered how he hadn't noticed the amount of sympathy that she felt for him earlier.

He swallowed silently at her words, leaning back in his chair. There was an awkward silence between them. He got up after a while, feeling that this small conversation was beyond his social skills, taking his parchment and books in his hand.

He wanted to leave, but decided that it wasn't polite to do so without saying goodbye. He stood there, without looking at her, for some reason his heart was pounding like crazy. Solren sighed.

"You don't have to say anything. Thank you for letting me learn with you. Have a good night." She said calmly, lowering her gentle gaze back to her Potions textbook, a soft smile on her face.

He lowered his head, grunted loudly under his breath and left, feeling immensely embarrassed.

He went back to his domitory and lay down in his bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. For some reason talking to her unnerved him, but not in the usual way. He felt ashamed that even when he wanted to, he couldn't have a normal, pleasant conversation. He wondered why he had to be such a recluse.

The thought that Solren might never play a match again filled him with some kind of frustration. Every win against the Gryffindors when he fought her on the pitch brought him wild satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment. Only now, despite all his hatred for her did he admit to himself that he had always viewed her as an equal rival.

The next day, as usual, there would be a joint Potions class between Slytherins and Gryffindors. They stood in the dungeons of the castle, waiting for Professor Snape to come and open the door for them.

Aemond felt oddly energized and excited at the thought of seeing her again. His classmates would say something to him and he would grunt back at them, only half-listening as he looked down the hall.

After a while, he saw her walking with a girl from his year, a Slytherin, talking to her about something with amusement. Both seemed relaxed and content with the discussion, the rivalry between their houses was apparently no problem for them.

Now that he had shifted his perspective on her a bit, accepting the theory in his head that she wasn't lying or pretending after all, he had to appreciate the ease with which she made contact with people. Something that was traumatic for him, she seemed to have in her blood.

He had to admit that the famous "Gryffindor Pride" expressed itself differently in her than in other Gryffindors. Just like her colleagues, she was energetic, lively, proud of her house and achievements, but at the same time she appreciated the values and skills of other houses without rising above them.

He thought that his Quidditch teammates liked talking to her because they didn't feel like they had to fight her constantly for supremacy. She didn't mean to attack them, she just liked talking to them.

He flinched for some reason as their eyes met, and Solren suddenly stopped talking, as if she had lost the thread. She smiled warmly at him, and for some reason he felt a tightness in his chest that made him look away. He felt hot even though it was very cold in the dungeon itself.

After a moment, they heard Professor Snape's footsteps, his trailing, black robe flying in the air behind him as he headed aggressively towards them. Solren and the Slytherin made way for him, and after a while they were all entering the hall.

Solren took her usual seat in one of the first pews and Aemond took his usual seat with his best friend, Criston, in the back. They sat diagonally, and when he looked up a little to the left he saw the profile of her pleasant, fair face clearly.

What she feared had happened right after Snape checked for presence. His low, nasal growl echoed throughout the room as he read her name.

"Solren, I see that you've finally been released from the hospital wing. As you know, an injury during a Quidditch match does not exempt you from preparing for this class." He said indifferently, not even looking at her, shuffling the sheets of parchment lying on the table in front of him. Solren pursed her lips at his words, but no displeasure crossed her face.

"I know, Professor." She spoke softly and meekly.

Snape stood up, folding his arms in front of him, leaning his back against the back of the desk so that he was looking straight at her.

"What do we get, if we mix bat's ear, cyanide juice, pearl water, a scoop of Saint Maurice and pour oak juice over it?" He asked impassively, looking at her expectantly. Solren twisted in place, thinking hard.

"Decoction of Deep Sleep." She said suddenly as if she remembered something.

"That is?" He hummed low, deepening the subject. The girl blinked and cleared her throat.

"A decoction that, given a small amount, will put someone to sleep for several hours, and in large quantities will kill him because of the cyanide." She said after deep thought. Snape didn't give up.

"What does "small amount" mean? Please, be more specific in what you say, Miss Solren." He said impatiently. The girl seemed confused.

"I…should I put it in gallons?" She asked uncertainly, and Snape rolled his eyes, looking at her impatiently.

"No, in miles. Do you test my patience, Miss Solren?" He said low and ironically, several people laughed around. Solren pursed her lips to keep from laughing herself.

"N-no, of course not." She said warmly, lightly, lowering her lashes meekly, thinking.

Aemond saw Snape's expression soften and thought that this teacher would torture any other Gryffindor for a long time, making fun of his stupidity. In her case, Snape decided to let go, giving her a chance to correct her answer.

"One-sixth of a quarter." She said after a moment uncertainly. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I can give you one-sixth quart of this brew, do you want to see if you will die or will you think logically?" He asked in only grunts, Solren pursed her lips, her cheeks red with shame. She looked down, thinking hard.

"One sixteen! It was one sixteen." She said suddenly, slapping her hand against the textbook. Snape looked at her indifferently.

"Please open to page 458." He said suddenly, turning away from her, tapping his wand on his textbook, the pages flew quickly to the page he told them to open. Aemond saw Solren, smiling from ear to ear, pull a textbook out of her bag, clearly pleased with herself.

He looked down, flipping through the pages of his book as he saw her start to look around the room. He thought that he should stop staring at her, but he felt like he was rediscovering her as a human being. As if she was suddenly a completely different person, even though her behavior was exactly the same as before.

After class, everyone left the room in a larger group. Solren stepped back, apparently forgetting something, and he turned after her. For some reason he wanted to stop, have a word with her, let her know in some way that he would never treat her as badly as before.

Although he didn't want to admit it, the remorse kept him up at night and he was tired of it. He stopped in the middle of the corridor and told his friends to go without him because he had forgotten something too.

They nearly collided at the entrance to the hall, Solren looked up at him, surprised, her eyes bright with joy. She greeted him, wanting to go past him, but for some reason he blocked her way with his hand, preventing her from passing. She gave him a surprised, questioning look.

"Wait. I wanted to talk to you." He choked out.

Solren nodded and smiled again, taking a step back, clutching her textbook to her chest, looking at him expectantly. No words came out of his mouth. He just stared at her. Her big, bright eyes.

"You don't have to do this, you know that?" She finally said, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I don't have to do what?" He asked more coldly than he would have liked. Solren looked at him with condescension mixed with tenderness.

"Feel remorse for me." She said softly.

He felt a lump in his throat at her words. He pursed his lips, still holding his hand in front of her, placed on the doorframe, leaning slightly towards her. He felt again that overpowering embarrassment that he had felt talking to her in the library. They were both silent for a moment, staring at each other.

"I can not help it." He finally squeezed out of himself, not knowing how else to put into words what he felt.

He saw how surprise and worry crossed her face, her mouth parted slightly as if she had not expected such words at all.

His gaze involuntarily dropped to her pleasantly moist, pink, full lips. He felt a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen at the sight of them, and he had to force himself to look into her eyes again to concentrate.

Solren swallowed softly, apparently not knowing what to say despite her eloquence. She jumped in place as if she remembered something.

"I'm going back to training starting tomorrow." She said, smiling gently. "As usual, you are my inspiration to keep trying and fighting."

For some reason he felt a strong, painful tightness in his heart at her words. He thought that he didn't deserve her to look at him this way.

Perhaps he was so infuriated by her attitude towards him, because he knew that he wasn't as perfect as she thought he was. In essence, he was a broken, desperate, and tired man. He swallowed loudly.

"I'm glad." He spoke low and distant, his face stone, though his chest was heaving a little faster.

She smiled happily at his words, obviously very excited to finally be able to have any sort of normal conversation with him without his frustration. She bent down, passing nimbly under his arm, her pleasant scent of some floral shampoo filling his nose. She turned to him over her shoulder, smiling sweetly.

"See you on the pitch, my beloved rival."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

Others: @fangirlninja67 @helaenaluvr

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