#GIVE MY GIRL A FEW TOO MANY AND CONFESS HOW VIOLENTLY IN LOVE SHE IS WITH HIM STILL DESPITE HIS IDIOCITY AND BREAKING UP W/ HER

[dylanconrique]

[oddaodd]

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

·

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03

[earlgreydream]

safeword.

| loki x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. Loki is punishing his little but maybe he takes it way too far. Like he make her put a vibrator in overnight, she cums too many times and it's painful and she's overstimulated and says her safeword. When he realized how scared and exhausted she is, he feels bad and fluffy aftercare

* my ddlg content does not include age regression

cw: mentions of spanking, forced orgasms, overstimulation, mentions of alcohol, d/s, ddlg (daddy, sub)

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you wept, tears blurring your vision and staining your cheeks.

Loki’s expression was full of disappointment. He hated to have to discipline you, but left over anxiety and frustration reminded him why he was doing it. He watched as you winced from your backside brushing the mattress, red welts raised on your skin from where you’d been spanked a few minutes before.

You’d just been set on the bed after being bent over the edge of it, your legs spread to expose every inch of your tender skin to Loki’s painful blows. He didn’t let up until you were shrieking every time his hand cracked down on your ass, trembling as your skin turned a deep crimson. 

Your sobs made his chest ache, but it wasn’t near as bad as the fear that had shot through him when you’d nearly gotten alcohol poisoning. You’d gotten way too drunk at a party, one you weren’t even supposed to be at in the first place. On top of that, you’d put yourself in danger, and Loki had to pick you up, leaving a business meeting too early.

Loki was furious once the fear had ebbed off, and he sat awake all night by your bed, making sure you were okay. The morning after, he’d fed you toast and made you drink nearly a gallon of water and coffee, trying to wash it all out of your system. You were miserable, from being hungover, the threat of punishment hanging over your head, and Loki’s disappointment. 

His anger wasn’t loud, or violent, Loki never even raised his voice at you. It was silent and worried, making him eerily calm. Somehow, that made you feel a million times worse.

“I know you’re sorry, darling,” Loki’s smooth voice comforted you, despite the fact he wasn’t nearly finished with correcting your misbehavior.

“You know I don’t take pleasure from punishing you?” Loki’s gaze locked with yours.

“I know daddy, but I deserve it,” you answered tearfully.

Loki bit the inside of his lip. Your voice was meek, and you looked so frightened, even knowing you had a safeword--Valhalla-- and Loki would never hurt you beyond your consent.

Loki had already made you come multiple times, and you jumped when you heard the sound of a vibrator turn on. 

“I’m sorry, I just want to sleep,” you begged, sobs interrupting your speech.

“You’ll sleep with it in.”

You continued to sob, but you opened your legs obediently. Your ass already burned like fire from Loki’s hand, and you didn’t want to give him a reason to flip you over and lay back into you with his belt. 

You choked, gripping the sheets as he slid it inside of you, prolonging your suffering. He hushed you quietly, telling you that you’d be done when you woke up in the morning. His tone was stern, and you swallowed your cries, wincing as you tried to get comfortable, finally deciding it was impossible with the unyielding buzzing inside of your throbbing core.

Your body tensed as you orgasmed again, unable to stop with the constant stimulation. You ached, and a pained whimper escaping your lips. Your head rested on Loki’s chest, and you winced as his touch ghosted down your spine, any stimulation unwelcome. You snuggled tighter into Loki, not wanting him to think you were afraid of him.

Your body finally gave out from exhaustion, sleep winning over your discomfort. You woke up less than a couple hours later, pain dragging you back to consciousness. You’d been forced to orgasm far too many times to the point it was painful, a sharp ache throbbing through your abdomen. You were terribly exhausted, and the intensity of the punishment frightened you. 

“Daddy, please wake up!” you whined desperately, your hand gripping his as tremors caused you to shake.

Loki woke up, immediately pulled out of sleep at the sound of your fear. 

“What is it, baby?” He sat up, turning on the lamp.

“It’s too much, please, I’ve had enough. Valhalla,” you wept, and Loki’s heart sank to his stomach. He pulled the vibrator out of you, shutting it off and tossing it aside. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, I should’ve been more careful. You’re okay, darling. I’m done, it’s over,” Loki felt terrible, pulling you into his arms, being careful of your tender skin. 

Loki held you until you were no longer shaking and your sobs had ceased, leaving you limp against his chest. You leaned into his arms, trying to snuggle deeper into him. You were still out of it, deep in subspace and clinging to the safety it brought you.

“I’m going to clean you up, okay? We’re going to take a bath.” 

“Darling, I need to hear that pretty voice,” Loki encouraged softly, kissing your forehead. 

“Okay, daddy,” you whispered.

“Loki,” he corrected, kissing your temple. 

Your face scrunched up, clinging to your subspace. He sighed softly and lifted you out of bed, carrying you to the bathtub and setting you down. You squirmed away as the hot water lapped your skin, stinging a bit. 

“Y-you said I was done,” you stammered, startled. 

“You are, I’m sorry, I know you’re sensitive. I’ll be quick,” he explained, turning down the water temperature. He pushed down on your shoulder, kissing your temple and letting the water rise. 

He knelt beside of you, washing your hair and body, promising you would get to sleep after your bath. Loki was incredibly gentle, whispering how much he loved you and how proud he was of you. 

He squeezed the excess water out of your hair and pulled the train. He helped you stand, and you held his hands as you stepped onto the soft bath mat. Loki dried you off, his large hands massaging lotion into your skin. 

He helped you dress in silk pajamas that matched your eyes, the fabric soft on your skin. You were coming out of your haze, coaxed back to yourself as Loki went through your aftercare, protecting you when you felt fragile. 

“Are you still upset with me?” you asked, finally breaking your silence.

“No, Y/N, of course not. I stopped being upset with you when you woke up yesterday morning. I was just worried. I love you so much, more than all the stars in the universe. I would be devastated if anything happened to you,” he promised, cradling your face before tenderly kissing your lips. 

“I didn’t realize how much I had. It was an accident, but I know I shouldn’t have gone alone.” 

“It’s alright, you’re safe now. That’s all that matters. And I love you, my beautiful, sleepy girl.”

“I love you too, Loki,” you wrapped your arms around his neck. He hugged you, kissing your head. 

“Can I get you to drink some tea? Your voice is a little gravely,” he asked, and you nodded, holding onto his arm as you walked to the living room. 

The bath and being taken out of bed had woken you up a bit, and tea sounded amazing. Loki handed you the box, and you sifted through the teabags until you found lemon tea. You placed it in Loki’s hand before wrapping your arms around his waist, your head resting against his back.

He mixed honey into the tea and circled around in your arms, hugging you tightly.

“Do you hate me?” Loki murmured against the top of your head.

“No, never.”

“It was not my intention to hurt you,” he confessed when he saw you limp slightly on your way to the couch, wincing as you sat down.

“I know. It’s okay,” you said, settling against his chest while he turned on an old sitcom. You held the warm cup, drinking it as Loki’s hand slipped under your shirt, gently resting on your abdomen. His fingers rubbed your skin, his arm draped around you.

You fell asleep, relaxing against Loki. You slept through the night this time, much more comfortable. Loki fell asleep listening to the sound of your breathing, not letting himself relax until you were deep into your sleep.

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

[thetravelerwrites]

Errol (Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Break-ups, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Secretly In Love, Angst, Sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Dom/Sub, Ovipositor, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Babies, Eggs, Egg Laying Words: 7887

A commission for @anjhope1​​! After catching her fiance cheating, the reader breaks up with him and goes home miserable. The ex-fiance's brother, Errol, arrives on his brother's order to get his things from her apartment, but Errol is more interested in taking care of the reader and making sure she's okay. It leads to some confusing feelings and a confession. Please reblog leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

You’d had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn’t until you got the message on social media from a girl he’d dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.

Your fiance was cheating on you.

Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.

The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” That was definitely Eric’s voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he’d be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.

You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. “Room service.”

“Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come,” Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.

“No, wait--”

“Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?” A female voice said from inside.

You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, “You can have the bastard.” And walked away.

“Wait, please, this isn’t what you think,” Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.

“Babe, who’s this?” The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.

“I’m his fiance,” You retorted. “Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“What the fuck, Eric?!” She shouted at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Rachel, it’s not…” He stuttered. “It isn’t…”

Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.

“Babe--” He started, turning back toward you.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,’ you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“I don’t give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?”

He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. “I… It… I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I’m rich, then I’m rich. If I say I’m successful, then I’m successful, and they don’t know better. They don’t know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don’t know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she’s popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don’t know what a fucking loser I am.”

“And that’s my fucking fault?!” You screamed at him. “You know what you could have done instead of ruining a five year relationship? Gotten fucking therapy! Or, better yet, talked to me about it! I have been nothing but supportive of you. I have encouraged you to leave your job and find a better one. I told you I would support you until you found something that made you happy. You could have gone back to school or done and apprenticeship or vocational work, whatever, and I’d have been there! You could do whatever you wanted, and I would have helped you, and you know that!”

“Right, because you so fucking perfect, huh?” He yelled back. “It’s not enough that you rub your perfect job in my face every day and go around spending whatever you want because you don’t have to worry about money, but you also have to be perfectly supportive and perfectly giving and perfectly loving, too, right? How am I supposed to feel good about myself when you’re always better than me at everything?”

“So, it’s my fault you’re cheating on me because I’m a good girlfriend? Is that what you’re saying to me? I’m too fucking nice, so you had to put your dick in random women to feel better about yourself?” You raised your hands as if surrendering and shook your head in disbelief. “You know what? Fucking forget me. Forget our relationship, forget getting married, forget you ever knew me, forget my fucking face, don’t ever come to my house, don’t ever message me again, delete my number from your phone. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t exist to you, because you sure as shit don’t exist to me anymore.” You turned to leave.

“What about my stuff?” He protested.

“Send your brother to come get your shit,” You said without turning. “If you set foot on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. I’m not fucking around. I’m so fucking glad you never moved in when I offered. ”

“So that’s it?” He said as you waited for the elevator to come back up. “You’re not even willing to work this out? It’s just over?”

“Get fucked, Eric,” You said, stepping into the elevator. “Oh wait, you already did. Do yourself a favor and sell that ring to pay for a therapist.” And the door closed on him.

As soon as the elevator started to move, you hit the floor and sobbed. Why? Why was he like this? You thought everything was perfect up until a few months ago, and you hadn’t know he felt like this. He always seemed happy. How were you supposed to know otherwise if he never said anything?

How you got back home, you didn’t know, because you didn’t remember it. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and didn’t even bother with a glass. For about an hour, you just sat there disheveled on your couch, crying and drinking.

Sometime later, there was a sheepish knock on your door. You hoped to God that it wasn’t Eric, but when you opened the door, Errol was there. Errol, Eric, and their sister Enya, were all from the same clutch of eggs, so he looked a lot like his brother in that they all had white, black, gold scales, golden eyes, cream colored skin, and blond hair. Errol was a bit larger that Eric, and where Eric wore his hair short, Errol kept his long and braided back. You always thought that it made him look elegant, despite his size. He was still wearing his work clothes, as if he’d just come from his construction job.

You and Errol hadn’t spent much time together alone, since Eric was a little jealous of other men. He’d always been very nice to you, though, and liked you just as well as the rest of his family. He’d even given you advice a few times in the past when you and Eric were fighting.

“Can I come in?” He asked, wincing.

“Did you know?” You asked him, your throat raw and hoarse from crying.

“No, I didn’t know,” He said solemnly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Errol,” You replied harshly.

“I swear I didn’t know. I would have told you, I promise. My brother can be an asshole, but I never thought he would do something like this.” Errol grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You retorted, your voice shaking as the tears returned. “If you’ve come to get his stuff, just get it and leave.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about his stuff, I’m here for you,” Errol said. He held up a couple of plastic bags. “I brought take out and ice cream.”

“I’m not hungry,” You said vaguely, but you moved aside to let him in.

“I got alcohol, too,” He said as he slithered inside. “I could make you a Bailey’s float.”

You sighed and sniffled. “Okay.”

You sat at your table as he bustled around making the drink, laying your tear-flushed face on the cool surface of the wood.

“What did I do wrong?” You asked weepily with your cheek pressed against the table.

“Nothing,” Errol said as he lay the glass in front of you, moving a chair so that he could coil up next to the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did he do it?” You asked, sitting up and taking a watery bite of the ice cream. “Why wasn’t I enough? He said ‘girls,’ which means there’s probably more than the two I know about. How long has he been doing this? Our whole relationship?”

“When he called me to come over here and get his stuff for him, I asked. I’m not sure if he was telling me the truth, but he said it’s only been the last year.” Errol snorted derisively. “Only.”

“How many girls?” You asked.

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He kept trying to get me to side with him, but…” Errol rolled his eyes. “I’m not buying anything he says right now.”

“Did he do this to his other girlfriends?”

“Well, you were his first serious girlfriend,” Errol said. “Before you, he only dated casually, so it was never a problem. When he said he really loved you, I thought he meant it.”

“Yeah.” Your lip quivered and you stabbed the spoon into your float. “Me too.”

Errol reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, which you sank into and let loose again, soaking his shirt in tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Errol whispered into your hair.

At some point, Errol put you to bed. You were exhausted and drunk and just wanted to sleep, so he lay you down and left you to it.

When the morning came, you felt like your head had been run over with a truck. You decided to get some coffee going before taking a shower, but to your surprise, Errol was still there. He was in the kitchen on the phone, his hair out of it’s usual braid and tumbling down his shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Errol said. You immediately realized he was talking to his brother. “No, I’m not picking up your shit. I don’t care if she burns it all.” He was silent for a moment, and you could hear Eric speaking. “No… No, you’re full of shit. Do you know what a good thing you had? Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you just shit on? …fuck no, I’m not going to talk her into taking you back, are you insane?! Get over yourself… No… No, it’s not happening, you can go fuck yourself right now… Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”

Errol hung up and turned, startled to realize you were standing there. “Oh, hey,” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” You replied honestly. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, you were in bad shape last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I slept on the couch, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” You said. “I was just going to make coffee.”

“Oh, I already made some,” He said, going to the coffee pot and pouring you a mugful. “I figured you could use it. I’ve got breakfast coming too, something greasy to absorb all that alcohol.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” You said, sipping the coffee. It was really good, but not your normal brand, though it tasted very familiar. Actually, now that you thought about it, you always drank the gross coffee Eric liked. This was a nice change. “I’m going to take a shower and wash last night off of me. Are you okay here?”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” He said, turning to pull down plates and prepare for breakfast.

You were about to turn to the bathroom but stopped. “Errol.”

He looked back up at you. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for… thanks.”

He smiled at you. “It’s no problem at all.”

You took your shower with your head pressed against the tile. Why couldn’t you just forget? Why couldn’t you put all of it out of your mind and stop thinking about it? What would it take to make the pain stop?

The water was cold by the time you got out, and when you went back into the kitchen, the food had arrived and Errol had everything set out on the table. He looked up anxiously when you came in.

“You okay?” He said, concerned. “You were in there for a worryingly long time. I was thinking about going in there if you hadn’t come out in five minutes.”

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but you know.”

“Yeah,” He said sympathetically. “Try to eat. All you had last night were two bites of ice cream and a lot of alcohol.”

You picked up your fork and speared a sausage. “I must look horrible.”

“Nope, not possible,” He said, tucking into his own plate of food. “A person can look tired and cute at the same time, you know.”

You snorted, prodding your puffy face gently. “You’re too nice. Maybe I should have dated you instead.”

He laughed. “You know, it’s actually kinda funny, I was going to ask you out back in college before you started dating Eric.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he kind of sniped you, if I’m being honest.”

“I never knew that,” You said. “Did he know you wanted to ask me out?”

“Oh, yeah, I told him,” He said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I told him there was a girl at my college who always went to this one coffee shop near campus, and I told him I was going buy you your favorite coffee and cookies as an icebreaker.”

Your head rocked back. “That’s exactly what he did when he asked me out.”

Errol tsked sardonically. “Yeah. I know.”

You scoffed. “Wow, what an absolute asshole.”

Errol shrugged and smiled. “Ancient history now. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” You said as he filled your cup. “This is really good, what is it?”

“Orange and almond mocha.”

You cocked your head. “Wait… isn’t that the blend I drank at the coffee shop? It used to be my favorite.”

“I know,” He said. “I ordered some. I thought it might be a nice pick-me-up. The shit that Eric drinks is revolting.”

“That’s definitely true,” You said, looking at Errol closely. “You remembered what my favorite coffee blend was from five years ago?”

Errol looked up at you. His face seemed carefully blank.

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s no big deal.” He wiped his mouth and sat back. “I should get going, I have work in a few hours. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to take some personal days.”

Errol nodded.”That’s a good idea. I’ll call later to check on you, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”

“Okay,” You said, feeling a little off-balance.

Errol smiled and let himself out, and you were left standing there, staring after him as an overwhelming sense of realization hit you like a freight train.

…did I date the wrong brother all this time?

Later in the day, Eric called. You almost weren’t going to pick up, but you decided to see what he had to say for himself now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“What do you want?” You said brusquely.

“Why did my brother spend the night at your house last night?” Eric said immediately.

“...excuse me?” You replied, incredulous.

“You heard me. What the fuck was he doing there?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“What do you mean, it’s not my business? He’s my brother and you’re my fiance!”

“Ex-fiance,” You corrected him. “First of all, you are the one who told him to come over in the first place. Secondly, I was not obviously doing well last night and he stayed to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or die in my sleep of alcohol poisoning. And third, and I cannot stress this enough, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you know he’s in love with you.”

Your head snapped back in agitation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, you really don’t know? Ms. Perfect doesn’t know that my asshole brother has had a crush on you for years?”

“You’re full of shit, Eric,” You retorted. “Don’t drag Errol into this.”

“Did you just decide to fuck my brother to get back at me, is that it?”

“Fuck you, Eric!” You hung up the phone and hit the floor, a wave of anguish washing you again. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to make everything worse?

The phone rang again, and it was Eric. You decided to block him and be done with it. You got a notification from Facebook, and then Twitter, and then Instagram, all from Eric. Every new notification made your anxiety rise higher and higher until you were balled up on the floor, sobbing again. In desperation, she dialed Errol’s number.

“Hello?”

“Please help,” She begged, weeping. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps messaging me and calling me. I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Errol said. He sounded angry.

“Can you come over? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’m going to turn off my phone.”

“That’s a good idea,” He said. “If I need to, I can message you on your gaming console.”

“Okay,” You said. “Bye.”

He hung up with you and you turned your phone off, sitting on the floor of your kitchen in the blissful silence, unable to get up.

Was that true? Could it be possible that Errol had been in love with you the whole time you’d been dating Eric? He said he’d wanted to ask you out. He remembered tiny details, like what your favorite coffee had been. He made you your favorite dessert when you were miserable without even having to ask what it was. He stayed overnight to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt yourself. He bought breakfast and defended you. He didn’t have to do any of that. He was just your fiance’s brother. Ex-fiance.

He arrived shortly after you called him. As soon as he entered the house, before he had a chance to say anything, you reached up, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. For a second or two, there was no reaction, but then he leaned into the kiss, deepening it, savoring it, before abruptly putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“...why did you do that?” He asked you, his face grim.

“Eric told me,” You said. “He said you’ve been in love with me the entire time I was dating him. Is that true?”

Errol looked down and away. “Look--”

“You told Eric on the phone that you’d have given anything to have what he had. You meant me, right?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Errol, look at me!” You shouted.

It seemed to take a lot of will, but Errol’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours. They were pleading with you.

“Do you love me?”

His face scrunched as if he were in pain and he swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t…

“Don’t…lie to me,” You said in a tense whisper, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do you?”

Tears began to gather in his own eyes. His response was barely audible.

“…yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since I first saw you in the coffee shop.”

You tried to press forward to kiss him again, but he held you firm, sniffing. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“But I don’t want to be used to get revenge on my brother,” He whispered back, his voice strangled and uneven. “It’s not good for you and it’s not fair to me. You know that.”

Your face crumpled. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, unable to look at him anymore. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want him in my head.”

Finally, Errol pulled you into a hug.

“I know,” He said. His body was tense, as if he were restraining himself. “We can revisit this later. Much later.”

“When?” You asked piteously.

“Not now. Not soon. You need time to heal and I… need to think.”

“I’m sorry, Errol,” You cried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never saw it.”

He laughed slightly. “It’s not your fault. I got really good at hiding it. And Eric always kept you at arms length from me. I think he was afraid I’d steal you away or something.”

He let you go and you stepped away, looking at the ground in shame.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you,” You said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He put his hand under his chin and made you look up at him, his thumb stroking your cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m relieved the secret is out now. Tiptoeing around you and Eric was exhausting. The engagement was my worst nightmare, because it meant I’d have to just suffer in silence forever.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s over for both our sakes, then,” You said, attempting to smile.

He smiled too, but it was very soft. Gentle. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together much from now on, at least for a while,” He said, letting go. “But… we can text. We can call. If you need anything, I’m always here for you. That’s always been true.”

You nodded. “I know.” You sighed and took another step back. “I’m going to miss you.”

His smile widened sadly. “I’m not far, but… I know what you mean.”

With the both of you in tears, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. Thirty seconds after he left, however, you got a text.

>Are you okay?

You smiled through your tears, feeling glad and grateful that he was still communicating with you. >No. But I think I will be.

>Good.

>Are you okay? You asked in return.

>Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. This was a lot at once.

>Yeah, no kidding. I think I may see a therapist to help me out.

>That’s a really good idea. Maybe I should too.

>I think everyone should at least once.

>Yeah. Do you need anything?

>No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything, Errol.

>It’s my pleasure.

Some time passed. You and Errol talked and texted every single day. Neither of you brought up dating each other and carefully avoided affectionate language. He wanted you to heal and you wanted to give him a fair chance without the cloud of his brother hanging over you.

Talking to him was effortless, like talking to yourself. You each had your own tastes and dislikes, but you both loved a lot of the same things and had similar desires. You both loved your jobs, enjoyed the same music, gushed over books you’d read, and liked playing board games. One of your favorite things to do was watch movies remotely over Zoom. It was almost like being on a date, even if you couldn’t be together.

As hard as you tried not to, you compared everything Errol did to Eric. Even still, it was obvious that Errol had always been better suited to you than Eric ever was. It was abundantly clear that you had indeed been dating the wrong brother the entire time.

On what was supposed to be your anniversary with Eric, Errol sent you a link to play a horror game with him. Errol hated anything horror, so instead of spending the day crying and drinking and cursing Eric for being alive, you got to laugh the whole day at how loud Errol screamed when he was startled. It ended up being a wonderful day.

You did see a therapist, as did Errol, and the two of you would talk about your sessions with each other, sharing the advice the counselors had given you. He also sent you gifts through delivery, like the coffee you loved and your favorite treats. Whenever you’d had a bad day or had to deal with Eric due to post-breakup business, a treat would arrive the next day, and it always put a smile on your face.

You were worried that all the time apart might change how Errol felt, but he never wavered. You woke up every day to a text saying good morning, and went to bed after talking to him for at least an hour about your day. After a month, you realized that a day or two would go by when you wouldn’t think of Eric at all. You hadn’t thought that would be possible when you first broke up with Eric, and he did still haunt your thoughts most of the time, but the respite from the emotional distress of thinking of him, even for a short time, was wonderful.

Three months after the breakup and his confession, you, Errol, and your therapists all decided that you were ready to date again. That same day, Errol showed up on your doorstep with flowers. The sight of him was like breathing fresh air after being underwater.

“Hi,” He said, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” You replied, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.

“So…” He said, not letting go. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”

“Yes,” You said, cuddling him closer.

He pulled back and kissed you for a very long time, tasting your lips and teasing his tongue just inside your mouth. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and just looked at your face, touching your cheeks with his fingertips. Eventually he stepped back.

“Let’s go.”

Dating him was amazing. He knew everything there was to know about you, so he took you to places you loved, to all your favorite restaurants, to concerts he knew you’d enjoy. It was like you’d been dating for years already, even though it was just a few weeks. You made out like teenagers, hot and heavy, but he was careful about being intimate too quickly, though, still fearful about being a rebound. You respected that.

You were already talking about the future, though. You both wanted to get married eventually and to be parents before you turned thirty. Before breaking up, you had been talking about having kids with Eric, which was something he had expressed interest in during the start of your relationship, but recently he had been making excuses, like he didn’t have enough in savings or he didn’t feel ready. You guessed you knew why now.

You were worried that his family would be angry with you for ending your relationship with Eric and dating Errol, but they seemed completely understanding. It was likely they were also aware that Errol had been in love with you forever, and the fact that Eric cheated on you wasn’t something they were proud of. You were still warmly invited to all the family gatherings with Errol, and while having Eric there was a little awkward, his seething anger at seeing you happy with Errol was the best revenge you could have asked for.

“They let everyone in the office have the day off. Do you want to hang out today?” You asked Errol one night after about a month and a half of dating.

“Ordinarily I’d love to, but I’m feeling kinda weird today. Squishy. I think I’m going to have my period soon.”

He wasn’t being hyperbolic; nagas with male sex organs both created the eggs and fertilized them, but they didn’t have a womb or cavity in their bodies where the eggs could incubate, which is why they needed people with uteruses to propagate the species. It took a month for the eggs to develop inside them, but after that, they could implant them into another person’s body at any time they chose. However, after a year, the eggs died naturally and were expelled from their bodies, therefore, male nagas experienced periods once a year. Eric usually went to a specialized facility where the eggs would be humanely disposed of.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it rather soon for that.”

“I went into heat last week. The eggs usually die quickly after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You said. “Why did you go into heat? That typically only happens when nagas in a sexual relationship with someone, right?”

“That, and if you’re experiencing extreme sexual needs that aren’t being met.”

“Oh. Ohhh…” You hissed in a breath. “Is it because of me?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” He reassured you. “It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

You were silent for a moment of deep contemplation. He seemed to sense you were thinking about something.

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Do you think the eggs are still viable?”

It was his turn to be silent. “Um… maybe. Probably. I think it’ll be another week before I need to go in to evacuate them. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking…” You said slowly. “We both said we wanted kids. And I know we’re just starting out, and this is super sudden, and it probably doesn’t even make sense to do this now, and we haven’t even had sex yet, but… oh, god, I’m rambling…” You sighed heavily. “If you’d like, we can wait until next year when we’ve been together for longer, but… it just seems like this is a good opportunity. It… feels right, you know what I mean? If that’s what you want.”

He took another moment of silence to think really hard about what you were saying. “Are you sure about this, honey?” He asked you finally.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” You said resolutely. “I love you, and I’m in a good place, both emotionally and financially. I’m ready to be a mom. I have been for years.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Is this something you want? I mean… I totally understand if it isn’t. If you want to wait, that’s fine with me. I just… I want to do this.”

His voice turned sultry. “You really want my eggs?”

You grinned and bit your lip. You’d learned through hints in conversations you had with him that he had a little bit of a breeding and pregnancy kink.

“Yeah. But we should act fast if we want them to take.”

“I’ll be right over,” He said, and the phone clicked.

You immediately went into the bathroom to get ready, feeling nervous. There was a weight of expectation on you, not just because you were talking about getting pregnant, but also because of how long Errol had wanted to be with you. You were scared that you wouldn’t live up to his expectation.

He arrived shortly after, looking excited and nervous. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him. He was shaking.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He said, touching your face reverently. “I’ve just… I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

You smiled softly at him. “Come on.” You took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed.

Once in the room, he pulled you in and kissed you again, deeper this time, more probing, his body pressed flush against yours.

“I’m not sure how to… begin…” He said. “I don’t know what you like and don’t like yet.”

“We can learn as we go,” You said. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Well, what do you like? Do you have any kinks I should know about?”

You laughed. “I have a few, I guess.”

“Tell me about one,” He said.

Instead of telling, you knelt down and sat on your knees with your butt resting on your feet, perched forward on your hands, and looked up at him through your lashes.

“What would you like me to do for you?” You asked, biting your lip.

His eyebrows rose and a startled smile spread across his face. “Oh,” He said. Slowly, he took off his long shirt, exposing his torso and the slit on his lower abdomen, usually closed and imperceptible from his scales, but now swollen and puckered slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair where you were crouched on the floor and came close, so that his slit was near your face.

“Touch it for me, sweetie,” He said.

Gently, you circled one finger around the slit, feeling it pulse under your touch. He exhaled sharply and his head fell back, his braid swinging. With your forefinger and middle finger, you stroked it up and down, watching it open slowly. You leaned forward and kissed it, and he spasmed, groaning.

Gradually, two dicks emerged from his slit, a long, thin one with a spear-like head, and a shorter, thick one with a bulbous head. You knew each had a different purpose. Normally, the thin one would be retracted so that nagas could just enjoy sex, but the thin one was an ovipositor. It’s what implanted the eggs. You knew not to touch it, since it secreted a numbing agent that made implanting the eggs easier.

“Now?” You asked.

“Not yet,” He said. “You’re not ready yet. Stand up.”

You obeyed, and he began to undress you. You started to help, but he said, “No, no, let me do it.”

You put your arms back down and let him peel your clothes off. And then he just looked at you.

“Stand still,” He said. “Stay quiet.”

You nodded, obeying.

“Good girl,” He whispered. “That’s my good girl.”

He started with your shoulders, letting his fingers run over your skin, down your arms, up your sides, caressing your breasts, down your belly, and reached one hand between your legs. You gasped.

“Shh,” He said. “Stay silent.”

It was a hard order to follow, as he touched your pearl and massaged it slowly, running a finger inside your slit as he did. Your breathing was uneven and you had to bite a finger, but you managed to be quiet.

“You can make all the noise you want soon,” He promised seductively. “I just want to test how good you can be for me.”

You nodded again, your body shivering at his touch.

He brought his face very close to yours, so that your lips were mere millimeters apart, but stopped short of actually kissing you. You could feel his cool breath on your neck and chest, and it made your heart race.

“You’re getting there,” He said, pushing a finger inside your entrance. You inhaled, but bit down on your cheek to stay silent.

“Good girl,” He said, pulling his finger out. "Lay face down on the bed and lift your ass up. Spread your legs open.”

You nodded again and followed his orders, doing exactly what he asked of you. He slithered up behind you and went back to touching between your legs with one hand, the other sliding up and down your spine. You felt him sink down and kiss your thighs.

“You can moan for me, darling,” He said.

You were happy to obey, and whimpered against your pillow as he licked a long stripe from behind, kneading your buttocks as he did. He moaned as he sucked on you, your legs shaking. He pressed his thumb into you as he sucked, and you thought you were going to cum. He stopped just before that happened, leaving you feeling desperate.

“Good,” He said. “You’re perfect.” He crawled over you from the back so that his face was next to yours and he kissed you. “Are you still sure about this? We can just have sex, I don’t have to breed you.”

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry about what I want right now, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” You simpered. “I want it. Give them to me. Please. I want them.”

He bit his lip, looked at you like you were something he wanted to eat, and grinned. “Good girl.” He went out of view then, and you felt his hands on your hips.

“Be still,” He said. “Let me in.”

You nodded, and felt the slim tube enter your body. The anesthetic began working immediately, so you only had a vague sensation of it pushing all the way in, penetrating your womb, and fixing itself there.

“Are you hurting, love?” He asked as he lay over you, putting his arm under your head so that you could lay on it and resting his body on top of you. Your hips were still in the air and your stomach wasn’t touching the bed.

“No, I’m okay,” You replied.

“Good,” He said, sounding a bit strained, his body tensing. His stuttering breath blew through your hair. “It’s starting.”

He grunted, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. His breathing was sharp and punctuated as the egg moved down through the ovipositor and into you. You could feel a small swell in your stomach, but it wasn’t painful. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and relaxed and shuddered, gasping.

“Did it hurt?” You asked.

“Not exactly,” He replied a little breathlessly. “It feels good, but it’s also a bit of work to push it out. Sorry this isn’t as sexy as you might have hoped.”

“Who said it wasn’t?” You replied, nuzzling him. “It’s like a special kind of foreplay. Besides, I’m really enjoying all the sounds that are coming out of you.”

“I can feel that,” He said, laughing. “You keep squeezing me.” He tensed again and started grunting, hugging you tightly.

“You’re doing great,” You told him.

“This is… harder than I thought it would be,” He said stiltedly. You could feel the sweat from his brow dripping on your skin.

“You can do it,” You said, kissing his arm as it gripped you and biting his thumb. “How many do you think there are?”

“I think three,” He said. He exhaled forcefully, and you felt another swell slip into you as he panted.

“One more, honey,” You said. “Deep breaths.”

He snickered, and then groaned. “Okay…” He said. He gripped you hard as the last one came and passed through. You were beginning to feel a full sensation in your belly and felt glad this was the last one.

Once it was out, the ovipositor retracted and he flopped onto the bed, gasping like a fish.

“Whoa,” He said. “Laying them in a person is way different than disposing of them.”

“How so?” You asked, moving to lie on your side so that you could touch him. He was clammy and cold.

“That felt great,” He said, looking over at you and smiling. “Like, it hurt a bit, but it felt like a small orgasm every time.”

“Probably a biological incentive to procreate,” You said, kissing his chest and neck.

He snorted. “Probably.” He looked at you with his eyes half lidded. “It’s going to be a few minutes until you get the feeling back down there. Why don’t you spend some time and play with me?”

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“Do you want me to punish you?” He asked.

“Maybe I’ll like it,” You said with a smirk.

He took you by the chin and made you look down at the second, larger cock, which was still erect and bobbing. “Touch me.”

You went down and sat astride his tail so that he could watch you take his cock in your hand, and begin to slowly pump it up and down.

“Hmm, that’s good,” He said with a satisfied sigh. “Let me know when your feeling comes back. We don’t want to waste time.”

“I will,” You said, stroking him. Your stomach felt tight, so you rubbed it as you touched him, drawing his eye. He watched you hungrily.

“I can’t believe you did that,” He said, smiling at you.

“We’re only half-way there,” You told him. “Don’t get too excited.”

He bucked his tail and nearly knocked you over onto the bed, making you shriek and laugh.

After a few minutes of teasing and touching and good-natured laughter, the feeling began to return. You started rocking on his tail to be sure, and realized that you were extremely sensitive.

“It’s back?” He asked

You nodded, pleasuring yourself against his body.

“Good. Lay down.”

You obeyed, and he moved to lay on top of you, his tail between your legs and his slit lining up with yours, kissing you deeply and rolling your nipples in his fingers. He pushed himself inside you as he kissed you, careful not to go too deep, as the ovipositor had made you a little sore. You rolled your body against his in time with his thrusts. You were so sensitive that you could already feel the crest of ecstasy beginning to wash over you.

“I love you so much,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m so happy.”

“I love you,” You replied, your hands in his hair as he moved inside you with purpose, precision. “I’m close. I’m so close.”

He stopped immediately, and you groaned shrilly, the sensation of denial sending a shiver up your back.

“Not yet,” He said, biting your lower lip. “Not until I say. Be a good girl.”

You nodded, panting and trembling, but your body was betraying you, writhing desperately against him, trying to regain the friction.

“Be still,” He said. “I’m not going to move again until you be still.”

You squealed in need, but you did your best to make your body stop clutching at him. It took a minute, but you managed to settle down.

“Good,” He said, slowly moving inside you again. “Good girl.”

“Cum inside me,” You begged. “Please.”

“I will,” He said, kissing you. “When I want to. Be patient and I’ll reward you.”

Your body was wound so tightly that you thought you were going to explode, practically vibrating underneath him. The sight of it made him grin.

“You’re so beautiful,” He said, licking your earlobe, still keeping the maddeningly slow pace. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes!” You groaned. “Yes, please. Errol, please.”

He thrust sharply, but not hard, and you nearly came undone. You cried out, about to snap like a string.

“Are you always going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered sinfully.

“Yes!”

“Do you promise me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Say ‘I promise.’”

“I promise, I promise, please!”

His thrusts became targeted again. “Beg me some more.”

“Errol, please! Please let me cum, please!” You cried. Every muscle, every nerve in your body was screaming for release.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” He said, though his movements were extremely efficient now. He was very good at drawing this out.

“I can’t take it, please!” You begged.

“One more time, say you love me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

From there, he wasted no time, slamming himself into you with speed. In no time at all, you were a screaming, shaking mess underneath him, thanking him over and over. The tension in his body and the sudden shout and moaning from him told you that he had reached his peak too.

“Not yet,” He gasped, rearing up. “I’m not done yet.”

He had leaned up so that he could look down at you and put his hand on your stomach, feeling the new hardness there. He kept going, pistoning against your body, snapping his hips against you, and rode the wave for a second time, all focus and concentration.

The both of you came one final time before he collapsed on the bed beside you, sucking in air as hard as you were. For a few minutes, all you could do was breathe.

After some time, he left the bed and went into the bathroom, and you heard the water in the tub running. You were barely conscious when he came back and lifted you out of the bed, taking you into the bathroom, and lay you down in the warm water of the bath. You were so tired and boneless that you could hardly raise your head, so he carefully, lovingly washed your body, paying special attention to your belly.

“Are you alive?” He asked after some time of sitting next to the tub, watching you drift in and out.

“I think so,” You replied, opening your eyes to smile sleepily at him. “Do you think they took?”

“We won’t know for a while. You should take it easy until then.” He smoothed the hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. “You’re going to have my babies,” He said, laughing a little.

“I hope so,” You said, taking his hand and kissing the palm.

“Eric is going to be pissed,” Errol said, snickering.

You snorted. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about him once today. This isn’t about him.”

Errol kissed you. “You’re right. It isn’t. It’s about us.” He lay his hand on your stomach and smiled gently. “All of us.”

Only one of the eggs took, but that was okay. Errol’s parents were overjoyed to learn they’d be getting a grandchild. Both you and Errol decided Eric could learn it on Facebook, like all the other strangers and acquaintances in your lives.

You took maternity leave so that you could pass your gestational time in relative peace. Errol fussed over you, making sure you ate properly and went with you to all your appointments. You made the decision to lay the egg at home instead of the hospital, and Errol’s sister acted as the midwife. It was the toughest work you’d ever done, and Errol was the best cheerleader you could have asked for.

Errol took paternity leave, like you had done, since he couldn’t leave the egg, anyway. He incubated the egg for the rest of the gestation period, curled up around it day and night. Errol’s son, Ewan, was born six months after being conceived, and within another year, you and Errol were married.

You often wondered if things had been different, if you had dated Errol from the beginning instead of Eric, if you’d be as overjoyed as you were at the moment. But then you figured that wondering about what ifs was a waste of time. You had a happy family to look after now, after all, and another clutch on the way. There was no time to worry about the past. The future was right in front of you.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[wondernimbus]

veritaserum — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

request: Hi I want to request a Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw reader please! a spell gone wrong makes Malfoy can say nothing but the truth throughout the day. Scared but too embarrassed to approach a teacher, he decided to go to y/n instead because she’s the top student of their charms class to help undo the spell but what he didn’t consider is how he would later straight out confess his attraction towards her, going on and on about her hair, her eyes, etc and they just share a heart-to-heart moment

a/n: i did Not proofread this so i apologize in advance if there r any typos!! also i made a v minor change to the req but other than that bon appetit

Someone spiked Draco's morning pumpkin juice.

It would have been really helpful if he'd noticed it before he laughed at Snape's face and called him a greasy git, after which his eyes grew comically wide and and he tried to hurriedly apologize (more out of fear for his parents than Snape)—only for his mouth to tell Snape to "go wash your hair for bloody once".

Veritaserum. Someone put blithering Veritaserum in his drink, and now he can't open his mouth without spitting out several of his deepest, darkest secrets.

"Two points from Slytherin for your uncharacteristic and very offensive behavior, mister Malfoy," Snape had sneered. "I will only tolerate this foolery once. The next time you dare to speak to me like that, I will not hesitate to treat you the same way I would treat any other student."

Draco would have tried to defend himself, but he isn't stupid enough to let another truthful insult slip out by accident, so he'd kept his mouth shut and nodded.

If one were to go into detail, they would tell you about how Draco had tried to ask Madame Pomfrey to help undo the potion's effects only to severely insult the poor old lady's hair, and how he'd also tried to ask McGonagall only to admit the fact that he'd cheated on her transfiguration test two years ago. He has insulted every single person he has tried to talk to so far during the day. He's called Crabbe an illiterate oaf, told a random Gryffindor couple passing by that they look absolutely dreadful together (something that he doesn't really regret blurting out, but he could have lived without letting them know), and admitted to Professor Flitwick that he'd paid someone to do most of his essays.

But if one were to put it simply, they would go like this: Draco is in a dilemma, and he needs help, fast.

Except he has severely offended every single person he has tried to ask for help, and will no doubt do the same for anyone he plans on asking. Draco is desperate. He is halfway through the school day and the effects of the truth serum have yet to wear off. At this rate, he's going to lose all of his friends, as well as lose his teachers' favor.

Draco can't ask a teacher in fear that all of his good grades will slip from his grasp at a single (honest) insult. He can't stick it out for the rest of the day, either, because when he spends too long a time not talking to anyone, it seems that the truth potion grows impatient and starts making him blurt out a bunch of his innermost secrets.

He has already shouted "I peed my pants when I was eight" in the Great Hall; there is no time to waste.

Potions class comes around right after breakfast and brings with it the inevitable need to face Snape again. Uncharacteristically enough, Draco doesn't swagger into the dreary dungeon classroom. Instead, he keeps his head down as he perches himself on his usual seat right—which is, of course, right in front of Snape's desk.

When the last of the students have filed in and Snape closes the dungeon door shut to begin the lesson, he makes sure to fix Draco with a long stare; one that Draco only holds for several seconds before he sniffs and casts his eyes away to look at his desk instead. You'd think that a Potions master would be able to tell when someone was under the influence of a truth potion—but then again Snape might also have known, but was too offended by Draco's jab about his hair.

He looks up sometime along the lesson and catches sight of the light reflecting off of Snape's greasy hair; well, Draco had been telling the truth.

For today's lesson, they're tasked to brew some sort of calming draught. Draco can't entrust Goyle—his partner—to even as much as get the name of the potion right, so Draco shoots the poor boy a familiar scowl and proceeds to do everything on his own. But Draco is no Potions expert, so instead of the faint lilac hue the liquid inside their cauldron is supposed to have turned into, it becomes a violently bubbling pink substance.

"Four slices of the bat spleen, mister Malfoy, not five," Snape drawls, peering down at Draco's cauldron through his hooked nose. "And you have been too heavy-handed on the lavender. Shame. I expected better."

Draco suppresses a sneer. Snape usually never points out his mistakes—that sort of treatment is reserved for other houses. Snape, it seems, took his insult to heart, the greasy-haired bloke.

Feeling severely irked, Draco slumps down in his seat, folds his arms over his chest, and stops trying entirely. He may be acting like a sulky five-year-old but so be it because Draco is not in the mood. He has humiliated his own self far too many times in one day (and been humiliated by Snape approximately ten seconds ago)—he wants this day over, fast, and with any luck, the Veritaserum out of his system by the end of it.

But he can't see how, so Draco does the only thing that he can do to help himself: he keeps his mouth shut.

The annoyance on his face shows as he surveys the dungeon room with a sour glare. Stupid Potter and Weasley are laughing over something at their shared table; why isn't Snape telling them off? Bloody slimeball. How dare he even speak to Draco like that? It's not like Draco lied. He has never seen anyone in such dire need of shampoo as Snape.

Draco shoots the back of his head a nasty glare from where he's standing all the way on the other side of the room, looming over a table of two Ravenclaws. One of them looks bored and the other seemingly immersed in potion-making; her movements are quick and precise as she pours one ingredient after the other into their cauldron with the same kind of effort Draco would put into making his afternoon tea—like what she's doing is an absolute piece of cake.

"Sit up, mister Corner," says Snape curtly, voice echoing throughout the dungeon and ceasing all chatter as he fixes the bored-looking Ravenclaw with a stony gaze. Draco recognizes him now—Michael Corner, some annoying half-blood he shares a few classes with. As for the girl beside him.. Draco tries to angle his head to see her properly, but her head is bowed over her cauldron and her hair blocks her face from view. "If you think you'll be getting the same outstanding grade as miss [Y/L/N] without even as much as lifting your pinky finger, then I assure you, you are terribly mistaken. I do not tolerate free riders."

[Y/N]. Draco knows her. Some Ravenclaw he has several classes with but has never spoken to—the one with the pretty eyes, Draco vaguely recalls himself thinking at one point, back when he'd first laid eyes on her. And truth be told her eyes are pretty; a lovely shade of [Y/E/C] that Draco has only seen up close once or twice.

But that is hardly the topic of concern, because if Draco turns his head just the right way and sits up a little straighter, he can see that the liquid inside of her cauldron has turned a glossy shade of faint lilac, which, according to the instructions written on the board, is what is exactly supposed to happen. [Y/N] finishes faster than anyone else, even Hermione Granger, and Draco sees Snape give her an appraising nod before moving on to criticize some other innocent student.

So it seems Snape isn't the only Potions expert in the room.

He perks up a little in his seat and fixes the Ravenclaw girl—[Y/N]—with a discreet stare out of the corner of his eye. [Y/N] sits down properly in her seat so that Draco gets a good view of her face (not a bad-looking one, an annoying little voice says inside his head). She hasn't even broken out in a sweat—it seems that potion-making isn't as difficult for her as it is for other people. Draco pictures the truth serum in his veins quivering in fear (although physically impossible) because he is pretty certain he's found the answer to his dilemma.

The rest of the class passes by annoyingly slow—or at least for Draco—because it seems like ages until Snape finally dismisses them for lunchtime. Draco just about jumps right out of his seat and strides straight towards [Y/N], who is currently in the process of stuffing her books inside her bag.

Draco clears his throat.

She turns around, and he's suddenly reminded of why he'd dubbed her as "the one with the pretty eyes", because she truly does live up to the name. Her eyes are strikingly [Y/E/C]; even the whites of her eyes look like they're tinted with gold. He finds himself incapable of speech for a brief moment, but then she raises her eyebrows and offers him a grimace of a smile, and Draco is back to himself again.

He opens his mouth to say "brew me something that'll stop me from blurting out the truth every bloody second" but instead what comes out is: "I've never spoken to you before but that's mostly because I have an irrational fear that I haven't quite admitted to myself yet which is that I'm scared of talking to pretty girls in fear that they'll reject me and my pride will be in tatters."

There's a split-second in which Draco stands there, his own words not having sunken into him yet, and then his face slacks.

[Y/N] stares at him, evidently baffled. And then she opens her mouth, eyebrows furrowed in apparent bewilderment, and says, "Um," she swallows, forcing out an awkward laugh as she takes a step back. "Wow. Okay. Thank you..?"

If Draco had been thinking straight—if he hadn't been so flustered and if he wasn't rushing to take back his words—he would have probably paused, realized that talking would have made the situation worse, and left. But Draco is flustered and he isn't thinking straight, so instead he opens his mouth to take his words back only for the following words to leave his mouth in a rapid burst: "Your eyes are a really lovely shade of [Y/E/C] and you have a beautiful smile and I've never heard you laugh before but I bet my inheritance that it's one of the loveliest sounds to ever exist."

[Y/N] looks flabbergasted more than ever. She doesn’t even look flustered—just utterly confused. For a few seconds, all she does is stare at him, frowning.

And then, looking as though she wants to thank him but not entirely sure it would be appropriate, her gaze darts away from his momentarily before she purses her lips. Excruciatingly slowly, she repeats, “Your.. inheritance.”

Draco grits his teeth.

Apparently there are several truths that the Veritaserum in his system thinks appropriate to reveal to [Y/N]—truths that even he hadn't been fully aware of. He opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again. At that moment he catches sight of the quill and parchment in her hands that [Y/N] had been in the process of stuffing into her bag; hurriedly, he grabs it from her (much to a surprised [Y/N]) and begins to write down the following words (seriously, why hadn't he thought of this before?): accidentally drank truth potion, brew me a remedy.

He practically shoves the parchment into her hands. Still looking wildly confused, she takes it from him with the cautiousness of someone being handed a firecracker. Her eyes dance across the words on the paper for no more than two seconds before she looks back up at him; realization slowly floods her face and her eyebrows rise even higher as she mouths, mostly to herself, "Truth potion."

Draco nods, eyes darting around the classroom. most of the class has already left. Snape is at his desk, fixing the two of them with a frosty stare. When Draco meets his gaze, Snape flicks his eyebrows up at him and asks, in that same drawling voice Draco despises today, "I was under the impression that lunch time meant all students had to be at the Great Hall."

Draco's brain doesn't operate well when he's annoyed—that's something he's realized today. Against his better judgment, he opens his mouth to sneer a retort without even pausing to think about the fact that he might blurt out some other offensive truth, but [Y/N] cuts him off and says, "I'm sorry, professor, but Malfoy's asked me to help him with homework and I thought it'd be nice to help him." She stuffs the piece of parchment into her robe and side-steps Draco so that he's not blocking her from Snape's view. "Would it be okay if we stayed here for lunchtime?"

Snape's lip curls in apparent amusement. Staring at Draco, he drawls, "That’s quite convenient. I had been thinking of assigning mister Malfoy a tutor; it seems he's been having trouble holding his tongue—alas," his mouth twists into a sneer, "I meant potion-making. Forgive me."

And then he heads to the dungeon door, leaving Draco behind to stare at his greasy head on his way out.

[Y/N] purses her lips, cheek twitching with the threat of a smirk. "I’m guessing you've offended him somehow? Veritaserum and all?"

Draco opens his mouth again—really, remembering to keep it shut is easier said than done—and instead of the reply he'd been intending on saying, what slips past his lips is: "Has anyone told you you're one of the prettiest—"

"Okay!" [Y/N] 's eyes widen and she rushes to clamp her hand over Draco’s mouth, looking actually flustered now. "Okay—stop. Just.." Slowly, she pries her hand away from his lips, movements cautious, and Draco stares at her, body completely rigid as he registers the fact that they're a mere few inches away from each other and she'd just put her hand over his bloody lips. And this is the first time they've ever spoken to each other.

"I’ll brew you the remedy," she says, grimacing. There seems to be a hint of a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks, but that could just be because the dungeon lighting is poor. She turns on her heel and makes her way to the ingredients cabinet all the way on the other side of the room, calling over her shoulder to Draco, "Just sit tight there—and keep it zipped before you say anything you don't mean."

The last part she says in a quieter tone, but Draco catches her words anyway and he finds himself thinking that maybe he did mean them.

Because [Y/N] is pretty—prettier than most. She’s not breathtakingly beautiful, but there's something about her that seems to have always drawn Draco, though he might not have ever thought much of it. Maybe it's why he always finds himself staring at her whenever they come across each other in the hallway. Maybe it's why he'd thought of asking her to the Yule Ball last year, but chickened out at the last moment.

He leans on the desk, arms folded across his chest whilst watching [Y/N] rummage through the ingredients cupboard. A moment later she turns around bearing an armful of different potion vials.

Draco means to ask her if she needs help carrying them (because yes, he may regularly be a prick but he has common courtesy). Instead, the Veritaserum still inside his bloodstream urges him to say, "I wish I’d asked you to the Yule Ball last year instead of Pansy."

He freezes.

At that moment, Draco swears to himself that he will inflict pain onto whoever poured Veritaserum into his pumpkin juice. He will have his revenge—no matter what it takes—and although he hasn't quite figured out how exactly he'll be doing it, all Draco knows is that he will.

He can't bring himself to look at [Y/N] any longer, so he plays it off by picking up a book on the desk he's leaning on and rifling through it. It only takes him a moment to realize that it's [Y/N]'s; her name is written across the bottom of the cover. Almost every page Draco flips through has tiny scribbles written in-between the lines—countless of notes, it seems, but so many of them that the actual text is almost indiscernible. Draco almost snorts. [Y/N] seems to be the quintessential Ravenclaw, if he has ever seen one.

She sets down the potions onto the desk, Draco still flipping through the pages. "I’d ask you how you accidentally drank Veritaserum," she says casually, "But I don't want you fawning over me even more than you already have."

Draco glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She’s in the process of uncorking two of the vials, both of which she pours into the now steaming cauldron. Whatever, he thinks to himself, rolling his eyes in an effort to convince himself that he's not embarrassed (even though he totally is: he's bloody blushing).

But then again, whatever. He’s totally not flustered. Totally.

Draco reaches the final few pages of [Y/N]'s Potions textbook without having even registered most of the ones he'd flipped through. The last two pages, like every other book, are completely blank save for the—

Draco's eyebrows furrow. There are drawings of all sorts on the back pages of her textbook, from cauldrons and brass scales to places in the castle that Draco recognizes.

But what has him most intrigued is the faces, all drawn so vividly and with so much detail they look as though they had been brought to life on paper. Draco sees Snape’s deprecating sneer and Michael Corner’s familiar face of boredom, sees Hermione Granger with her brows knitted together at the middle as she leans over her cauldron, Ron and Harry with their heads bowed over a piece of parchment—and then he sees himself, arms crossed over his chest as he fixes something with a stony gaze. But the more Draco’s eyes explore the pages, the more of himself he sees. There’s him slicing what looks like a dragon heart, scowling at someone that looks like Goyle, and another one of him smirking—

And then the book is snatched from his grasp by none other than [Y/N] who looks wildly panicky. "You—I—" she blubbers, gaping at him for a moment before whipping around, turning her back on him as she stuffs the book into her backpack. "How much did you see?"

Slowly, a grin breaks out on Draco’s face. "Enough," he says—and apparently it's the truth, because it's what he actually meant to say. A little surprised, he tries his luck again and means to say so you draw? But instead what leaves his lips is something so excruciatingly blunt and embarrassing part of him wants to dive under the table and hide there for the rest of his life: "I’m assuming because you've drawn me more than anyone else that you find me attractive so I’m going to go ahead and thank you for that, but unfortunately you're a half-blood so I might have to get my parents' permission before I think of asking you out."

A moment of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the antidote bubbling. Draco has to physically suppress himself from diving straight into the cauldron and never coming back out.

[Y/N] scoffs a little, uselessly fanning her face with her hand like doing so will somehow rid her of the blush on her cheeks. Draco grits his teeth and fixes his gaze on the stone floor, refusing to meet her gaze.

She clears her throat in an attempt to quell the sudden burst of suffocating awkwardness now resting between the two of them. Not quite looking at him, she peers into her cauldron and mutters, "I just like to draw all sorts of things. People, as you've seen," she adds, pressing her lips together abashedly. Draco watches her out out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching. "And I don't find you attractive. You just have.. a nice face. For drawing, I mean. It comes out nice on paper."

Draco’s eyebrows flick up of their own accord. He has a nice face. Are those butterflies he feels in his stomach, or is it just the Veritaserum?

It takes no more than a minute or two of silent awkwardness before the antidote is finally finished brewing and [Y/N] pours it into a small vial, which she hands to Draco.

Draco eyes it skeptically, holding the vial up to the light and swirling it around a little. It definitely doesn't look pleasant; a stark contrast to the clear hue of Veritaserum, the antidote is a murky brown in color and vaguely reminds Draco of mud and manure.

You expect me to drink this? Draco means to ask, but instead says, "You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen."

And just like that, Draco, exasperated and embarrassed out of his mind, uncorks the vial and takes a large swig.

The feeling of the liquid sloshing down his throat is an unpleasant one; he coughs a little, face scrunching up with disgust as he swallows down the last of the antidote. But not long after the vial is emptied, a tingly feeling spreads from his fingertips to his entire body and has him feeling weightless for a few moments before it fades and Draco feels normal again.

He sets the vial down on the table, rubbing his throat. When he looks up, he sees [Y/N] already cleaning up, throwing away the empty glass vials and emptying the cauldron with a single flick of her wand.  She’s taking all of her things and shoving them into her bag, and Draco watches as she slings it over her shoulder and makes for the door—

“You’re leaving?” says Draco without really thinking about it. “Already?”

She stops in her tracks and turns around, already a few feet away from him. Eyebrows raised, lips twitching up at the side just the slightest bit, she shrugs. “Well, yes,” she purses her lips. “Was there something else you wanted me to brew?”

Draco’s hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. “No,” he says hastily. But he hadn’t been expecting her to leave so soon—not after his, ah, countless confessions.

What had he been expecting, though?

“Well, I’ll be going now,” [Y/N] says slowly, a little awkwardly, gesturing to the door. Draco watches her as she takes a backwards step away from him—but he knows a chance when he sees one, so he blurts out, “D’you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Her eyebrows rise even higher as a genuine look of surprise floods her features. Draco doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s onto, but whether or not he regrets it is entirely up to [Y/N]’s answer.

She lets out a breathless laugh, looking dubious. “You’re being serious?”

Draco stares at her for a little while—Merlin, she really does have pretty eyes—and then he shrugs a casual shoulder, nodding.

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but there's still that hint of a faint smile resting on her lips. Draco finds himself wishing he’d see her do it more often—in front of him, and not halfway across the classroom. She feigns a look of contemplation, tilting her head at him, now full-on smiling in a manner Draco thinks might be playful. (Alright, those are definitely butterflies in his stomach.) "And what d'you have to offer?" she asks him, eyebrows raised.

It’s Draco’s turn to narrow his eyes at her, unable to suppress the tiny smile that slides across his face. He pauses to think about his answer first, all the while holding her impish gaze, before finally shrugging and saying, "My company. And not everyone gets to enjoy that," he adds as an afterthought, and it's true—Draco is very picky with who he graces with his presence.

But then [Y/N] replies, "Well, not everyone gets to enjoy mine, either," and her tone is almost challenging. Draco, for some reason, finds himself on tenterhooks. Something about her is drawing him in; he can't quite decide whether it's her coyness or her eyes. Likely both.

Severely amused, he leans on the desk and inclines his head a little towards her. "So would you do me the honor of blessing me with your company this weekend?”

There’s a beat of silence—this time not at all awkward—as they stare at each other, a sort of tension between them that Draco finds himself enjoying. And it's a blessing that she breaks it because if it had stretched on for any longer Draco would have lost himself in her eyes completely; “Alright. Sure. No harm to it,” says [Y/N] with a light laugh, nodding.

Draco’s lips break out into a grin and he nods, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Maybe you can tell me more about your drawings. Well,” he pauses, brows raised teasingly. "Drawings of me, to be specific."

She lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes, but she's laughing. "Okay—and maybe you can tell me about how much you love my eyes."

Draco’s face falls. [Y/N] grins, beginning to walk towards the dungeon doors. "I’ll see you around," she sings, and her back is turned but Draco can hear the smile in her voice. Just before she disappears into the corridor, she pauses at the doorway and looks back at Draco, and her eyes are positively sparkling. "Try not to get lost in my eyes too much. Wouldn’t want you tripping over yourself."

With one last playful grin, she leaves the Potions classroom.

And while, just a few minutes ago, Draco had been prepared to get revenge on whoever put Veritaserum in his pumpkin juice, now he feels like thanking them.

[vive-la-revolution]

my favorite bits from the laurens/hamilton letters

• “Adieu, my dear boy” — Laurens to Hamilton, December 5, 1778

• “By actions rather than words, to convince you that I love you.” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “But for both your country’s sake and for my own I wish the enemy may be gone from Georgia before you arrive and that you may be obliged to return and share the fortunes of your old friends” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “She speaks of a daughter of yours” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “It will be necessary for you to give an account of the lover—his size, make, quality of mind and body, achievements, expectations, fortune, &c” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “Do I want a wife? No—I have plagues enough” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “I have gratified my feelings, by lengthening out the only kind of intercourse now in my power with my friend” — Hamilton to Laurens, April 1779

• “Affectionately Yrs.” — Hamilton to Laurens, May 22, 1779

• “I mention this matter to you, my D[ea]r, because your good father whom I venerate in this instance on the wrong side. I know he acts from system and follows his own judgement, but I know also he sets a proper value to yours, aided by the affection of a father. This is a delicate subject. I say no more.” — Hamilton to Laurens, May 22, 1779

• “Ternant will relate to you how many violent struggles I have had between duty and inclination—how much my heart was with you, while I appeared to be most actively employed here” — Laurens to Hamilton, July 14, 1779

• “Clinton’s movement and your march in consequence, made me wish to be with you” — Laurens to Hamilton, July 14, 1779

• “I shall execrate my Stars—& be out of humour with the world.” — Laurens to Hamilton, July 14, 1779

• “I have acknowledged but one letter from you, since you left us... I have written you five or six letters since you left from Philadelphia, and I should’ve written more had you made proper return.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 11, 1779

• “But like a jealous lover, when I thought you had slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued. I had almost resolved to lavish no more of them upon you and to reject you as an inconsistent and an ungrateful ____. But now you have disarmed my resentment and by a single mark of attention made up the quarrel.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 11, 1779

• “Present my Respects and Love to our excellent General and the family; may you enjoy all the pleasure moral and physical which you promise yourself in these winter quarters; and be as happy as you deserve.” — Laurens to Hamilton, December 12, 1779

• “My Love as usual.” — Laurens to Hamilton, December 18, 1779

• “Believe me my D[ea]r Laurens I am not insensible of the first mark of your affection in recommending me to your friends for a certain commission. However your partiality may have led you to overrate my qualifications that very partiality must you endear to me” — Hamilton to Laurens, January 8, 1780

• “If I have talents and integrity, (as you say I have) these are justly deemed very spurious titles in these enlightened days” — Hamilton to Laurens, January 8, 1780

• “I have strongly sollicited leave to go to the Southward.” — Hamilton to Laurens, January 8, 1780

• “In short Laurens I am disgusted with every thing in this world but yourself and very few more honest fellows and I have no other wish than as soon as possible to make a brilliant exit. ‘Tis a weakness; but I can feel I am not fit for this terrestreal Country.” — Hamilton to Laurens, January 8, 1780

• “Adieu my Dear; I am sure you will exert yourself to save your country; but do not unnecessarily risk one of its most valuable sons. Take as much care of yourself as you ought to for the public sake and for the sake of/Yr. affectionate/A. Hamilton” — Hamilton to Laurens, March 30, 1780

• “We all love you sincerely; but I have more of the infirmities of human nature, than the others, and suspect my self of wing byassed in my partiality for you.” — Hamilton to Laurens, June 30, 1780

• “Have you not heard I am on the point of becoming a benedict? I confess my sins. I am guilty. Next fall completed my doom.” — Hamilton to Laurens, June 30, 1780

• “Is it true you are confined to Pensylvania? Cannot you pay us a visit? If you can, hasten to give us a pleasure which we shall relish with the sensibility of the sincerest friendship.” — Hamilton to Laurens, June 30, 1780

• “Indeed my Laurens, I often realize your situation.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 12, 1780

• “I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you and Meade.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 12, 1780

• “My ravings are for your own bosom.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 12, 1780

• “For your own sake, for my sake, for the public sake, I shall pray for the success of the attempt you mention; that you may have it in your power to act with us. But if you should be disappointed, bear it like a man; and have recourse, neither to the dagger, nor to the poisoned bowl, nor to the rope.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 16, 1780

• “In spite of Schuyler’s black eyes, I have still a part for the public and another for you; so your impatience to have me married is misplaced; a strange cure by the way, as if after matrimony I was to be less devoted than I am now.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 16, 1780

• “I wish you were at liberty to transgress the bounds of Pensylvania. I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation. My Mistress is a good girl, and already loves you because I have told her you are a clever fellow and my friend; but mind, she loves you a l’americaine not a la françoise.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 16, 1780

• “Adieu, be happy, and let friendship between us be more than a name” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 16, 1780

• “The stars fight against us my friend.” — Hamilton to Laurens, September 16, 1780

• “ There was something singularly interesting in the character and fortunes of André. To an excellent understanding well improved by education and travel, he united a peculiar elegance of mind and manners, and the advantage of a pleasing person. ’Tis said he possessed a pretty taste for the fine arts, and had himself attained some proficiency in poetry, music and painting. His knowlege appeared without ostentation, and embellished by a diffidence, that rarely accompanies so many talents and accomplishments, which left you to suppose more than appeared. His sentiments were elevated and inspired esteem. they had a softness that conciliated affection. His elocution was handsome; his address easy, polite and insinuating.” — Hamilton to Laurens, October 11, 1780 (but he’s too pretty to hang!)

• “Assure yourself that it is impossible more ardently wish for your health safety pleasure and success than I do. God send you speedily back to us.” — Hamilton to Laurens, February 4, 1781

• “I had, in fact, resumed the black project, as you were informed, and urged the matter very strenuously, both to our privy council and legislative body; but I was out-voted, having only reason on my side” — Laurens to Hamilton, July 1782

• “Adieu, my dear friend; while circumstances place so great a distance between us, I entreat your not to withdraw the consolation of your letters. You know the unalterable sentiments of your affectionate Laurens.” — Laurens to Hamilton, July 1782

• “It requires all the virtue and all the abilities of the Country. Quit your sword my friend, put on the toga, come to Congress. We know each others sentiments, our views are the same: we have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy.” — Hamilton to Laurens, August 15, 1782

• “Yrs for ever” — Hamilton to Laurens, August 15, 1782

[mitsukui]

cherry explosion | b.w.

Pairing: Bill Weasley x female reader.

Summary:  unexpectedly, Bill finds a way to give you the best New Year’s Eve you have ever had.

Word Count: 1,7k.

Warnings: smut! Oral sex (female receiving). Mentions of alcohol, drinking, and one-night stands ending badly.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: sending all of my love to those who are spending their New Year’s Eve by themselves! Dear @maddi-sun18​, thank you so much for the request, and I hope this can bring you some comfort. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤

Masterlist!

Sometimes, it was so easy to read men. Their actions were so predictable, and they never failed to act exactly the same as the ones who had been there previously.

You wondered if there was some sort of training for young gentlemen on how to pick up girls at hotel bars. There seemed to be four steps for a man to follow in order to get lucky: one – exchange looks with the chosen pretty girl; two – lure the prey by offering her a fizzy and fruity drink; three – make small conversation, and say she is different from any other girl in the room; and, finally, four – get into her panties.

All of that was bullshit, and you would never fall for it.

And, perhaps, that was why you panicked a bit when a painfully attractive man approached you in a different way.

“Hey.” He shot you a small, yet, charming smile. “Do you mind if I sit here? If I listen to Patricia Rakepick talking about her adventures in Japan for one more bit, I might die.”

Both of you were taking part in an international conference on Curse-Breaking. The event had gathered wizards and witches from all around the globe, which caused Gringotts to rent a few areas on a muggle hotel in London for it. Although it was a knotty task for so many people to act as if they had no magical powers rushing through their veins, every participant seemed to be doing well on their own.

His presence there was perfectly reasonable, once he was a Curse-Breaker himself. Yours, however, was a bit questionable. You, as a columnist for the Daily Prophet, had been asked to cover the event, and could not be any less excited about it.

It was New Year’s Eve. All you wanted to do was go home to your family and friends.

While many people were not shy on showing their personal preference for Christmas, you were crazy about New Year’s Eve. The upcoming novel 365 days for you to live as if they were your last, the fancy dresses you always insisted on wearing, the taste of fizzy and fruity drinks lingering in your mouth until January 1st – all of that meant something to you, as brainless as it sounded.

Your peevish ways were soon destroyed by his sudden presence and polite attitudes. After you agreed with his company, it did not take long until you were laughing about the event and the people attending it.

As a matter of fact, Curse-Breakers were rather odd and monotonous people. The man with fiery, long hair seemed to be a clear exception to them, with his exotic fang earring, and his dragonhide boots. He also was to be the only good-looking one in that crowded bar, in that stupidly sophisticated hotel.

He was surprising you second by second. Breaking every single trait of loathing you had piled up for men, due to failed relationships and other women’s reports, he was showing himself as a funny and respectful man.

Between a few drinks, you had talked about his insanely big family, your repetitive daily life, his experiences in Egypt, and how you accidently had Apparated in Colombia once, being left without any knowledge of Spanish.

There was something sweet and intoxicating about him; about the way he asked to hold your hand while you were talking, and about the way he confessed and apologized for being unable to stop staring at your lips and wondering what they felt like.

“They probably taste like cherries now.” You leaned in and whispered, the dizzy sensation caused by your Cherry Bomb drink starting to tingle your insides. In a bold movement, you took your cocktail glass towards him. With your other hand, you touched his chin, and pushed it down a bit, forcing his mouth to part open. Your gaze transformed itself into a flirty one, and you told him to sip your drink so he could get a better grasp on what you tasted like.

It did not take long for you to crash your lips against his after that. You felt comfortable doing exactly what you were doing. You felt like you were in command of your own feelings. There was no stupid game of prey and hunter. There was no lie being told so one would get lucky.

At that moment, there were only two adults, being nice to each other and understanding their desires fully.

Unlike so many other men, he had respected you and, in the midst of slightly drunken kisses and touches, he kept on trying to be certain you were okay and you really wanted that.

Bill was briefly tipsy as well, his tongue tasting like the scotch he had earlier. The mixture between your cherry-like taste and his own made you feel like you were in heaven, although his kisses were growing to be hungry and more desperate.

Half an hour later, your hair spread across the pillow he was temporarily using for sleeping purposes. Your dress had been lifted up until your stomach, and your underwear was now nowhere to be found.

His soft hands roamed around your inner thighs as his tongue lapped your juices. Surprisingly, he was terrific at that, and you suspected you would crave more once he was done.

As he gave short licks to your clit and his tongue ran around your folds, two of his fingers were inserted in you. You arched your back, and reached out for his hair. You allowed your own fingers to tug delicately on his locks, his name leaving your lips religiously. He kept on pumping in and out of you, the pressure on your soft spot increasing each time.

The burning knot in your loins became tighter, and he adored how you clenched your walls around him so strongly. You were a mumbling, breathy mess, but he was entirely mesmerized by the sight, and the intimacy you were sharing.

Almost as if destiny was playing a prank on you, when you hit your first orgasm, fireworks started exploding outside the window of his hotel room. You squeezed your eyes shut, and cried out in the greatest pleasure you had ever felt in your entire life.

Slurping and sinful noises were produced as you came back from your high, still moaning. Your entire body trembled violently, but his big hands soothed your delicious torture.

He looked at you and chuckled quietly, your fluids still hanging on his lips, making them even more kissable than before. You were stunning in his eyes, and he feared not being able to let you go after the morning would come.

“Happy New Year, darling.”

January 1st came as softly and quietly as it possibly could. You dozed off in his arms after you spent a bit watching the fireworks show, and talking as well. The fact he was a grown man, but still could hold a decent conversation for so long, without any visible struggles was amusing.

You woke up to the next morning weak daylight peeking through the curtains and tickling your cheeks. Something inside your chest felt amazing. Flashes of the previous night appeared in your mind, and you could not hold a smile back. Funny enough, the taste of your Cherry Bomb drink still lingered faintly on your tongue.

However, all of your peace of mind vanished in the very instant you realized you had woken up by yourself. Waves of embarrassment and regret crashed in your heart, and you felt ridiculous for falling for all of the sweet nothings that had escaped his lips.

“Yes, that would be all. Yes. Room 716. Thank you very much.”

His enchanting voice shattered your own trance into a million pieces, and his bare footsteps announced he was returning to the same spot where you were at. You pulled the white sheets up and covered your naked torso, still unsure of how you would have to deal with the rising tension of the situation.

He soon captured the image of you being up and a glorious grin painted his lips. “Good morning.” His lower body was covered by a pair of dark jeans, which seemed to embrace his existence perfectly well, despite being different from the visual image he displayed last night. How was it possible for someone to look that good early in the morning? Or was it really early? What time was it? What did happen after the fireworks? With a timid voice, you wished him a good morning, too, but remained silent afterwards. It was difficult for you to ponder your next actions.

“So, the room service guys will be here shortly. I took the freedom to order us some breakfast.” His eyes gleamed with a pure kindness as the words slipped out of his lips. “I hope you fancy some orange juice in the morning.” He was offering you nothing but soft spoken words, and thoughtful actions

What was that?!

“B-Breakfast?” You repeated the key word of the whole conversation in surprise. No one had ever prepared, or even ordered, you breakfast after a night of sex and lust.

“Yeah.” Bill was quick to notice your tone of surprise and, somehow, it was funny to him. A girl like you, whom had shown him nothing but a great personality so far, should be used to being pampered like that. “Did you think for one second that I’d just eat you out like that, and leave you hanging the next morning?”

Honestly? Yes. You did think of that. You feared you would be tricked once more. One more disappointment to be added to your personal archive. One more reason to continue living your life despising men.

His arms were crossed against his chest and he shook his head, a dismissive, short laugh echoing through the room. “I would be mental if I ever did that. In a few hours, you managed to wow me.”

He made his way to the bed, and his body sank down on the mattress, being placed right next to yours. Truth being told, without the alcohol, you felt quite shy being that close to such a handsome man. “And, if you allow me to, I want to continue seeing you. I want to get to know more of you.”

A snuggly heat erupted in you, and it was a novel sensation for you. Perhaps, not all men had those devilish ways in them.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I really feel like kissing you right now. But, given your astonished behaviors, I’m not sure if you’d enjoy that. What do you tell me?”

Perhaps, this new year would not be so terrible.

[enhyupn]

the perfect date! chapter one

masterlist | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i literally had to dig this out of my drafts so i don’t even know myself what i’ve written PLSSS

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush

falling in love at the age of twelve wasn’t what you were expecting while learning basic algebra. being heartbroken at the age of thirteen while reciting shakespeare was also not as expected. the cause of both of these unforgettable moments? park jongseong, or otherwise known as jay to almost everyone around you. your first love was something that stuck with you, even in the present. he was your seat mate in three of your classes and the person you would ask for the homework right before it’s due date. it was a one sided crush, it was quite obvious to you. he was popular, sporty and incredibly talkative, you were one out of maybe twenty people that had a huge bulging crush on him. 

at age fourteen you vowed to forget about him, the previous year he had moved to america to improve his english abilities which had put you in a miserable mood for almost all of your middle school life. who else was supposed to give you the math homework? how were you supposed to feel excited to go to school when jay wasn’t going to be there? your barely-a-teen mindset made you think you were never going to get over him.

flashing forward to freshmen year of high school, new school, new class and a clean slate to basically pretend you were a completely different person. no more being dependent on other people! no more trying to do anything to get friends! no more—

“hi, my name’s jake” oh boy.

and that’s how jake sim entered your life. it was his australian accent peaking through his words as he flashed you an energetic smile that pulled you in. you could of fallen for him at that instance, well you could of fallen for him throughout your years of friendship but the returning thought of your first love entirely stopped that process. jake sim was like a breath of fresh air, he was everywhere you went and had your back for everything.

you were his best friend and you thought of him like one too, you two were practically glued to one another. of course you had side comments, gossip that the two of you were dating or one of you two had an one sided crush (the latter part of that sentence we aren’t going to get that much into) but it didn’t make you two feel awkward or anything like that. with jake you almost forgot about jay (algebra and shakespeare being the things that stimulates the memory of him). although it wasn’t like jake was a rebound, you think yourself you’ve felt happier when you were around jake. i mean jake’s definitely popular, rivalling jay’s popularity in middle school even. if you asked anyone in your school who they’ve had a crush on, jake sim is number one on that list. he had some type of air around him, always being incredibly positive, he quite literally radiated the colour yellow. maybe you had a type when it came to people you associated with.

the close second on that list was maybe the complete opposite to jake in terms of their public image to the school. park sunghoon was the class president in your class. academically gifted, popular with the female population in your school, a talented figure skater, a stereotypical cold and distant beauty, there were a lot of layers to sunghoon. you personally had never really talked to him, the only time being when he had dropped papers on the ground in the hallways, maybe a few months ago. you helped him pick them up before carrying them with him to the teacher’s staff room. even then, you two had barely shared any words during that whole incident besides a “thank you”.

still, you could say you respected sunghoon. i mean who could have the energy to do his whole schedule besides him? you definitely could not. plus the way he was one of the most popular bachelors added to his busy schedule. the most recent valentine’s day was the proof as well as it was record breaking in your terms of your classes history with the day. having jake and sunghoon meant there were a lot of people trying to confess their feelings entering your classroom. last year, jake was stopped twenty three times the whole day, beating out sunghoon’s twenty sudden confessions. this year, there a sudden decline in jake’s confessions, a whopping three people only expressing their feelings desperately to him as he politely declined. sunghoon’s number rose by about ten people, expected but still a little shocking.

it wasn’t like the two of them cared about it, the only thing they did care about though was being polite when rejecting people. you couldn’t really sympathise with jake or sunghoon whenever they had to prepare yet another rejection, the only confession you’ve received being from yoon hyunsuk that was quite awkward considering he was a family friend and you saw him almost every week after you had rejected him.

anyways, returning to present time where you were doing your regular daily routine for a weekday. it always went waking up way too early, under eating breakfast in hopes to get the bus on time, meeting jake on the bus, walking to class with him and trying to not fall asleep in the middle of math class. it started off completely normal, maybe a little too normal.

“did you hear?” jake whispered in your ear. the two of you were supposed to individually practice questions but the chattery side of jake honestly got the best of him at moments like these.

“what is it?” you reply back quietly.

“a transfer student is coming in after lunch ends, one from america” now that really got your attention. you turn to him with your eyes wide in surprise, curiosity taking over you completely as you ignore the difficult question in front of you.

“did you see them?” jake couldn’t help but feel the sudden heat rush to his face as your sparkling eyes met his. “how do you even know this?”.

“ryujin told me plus, i saw a bit of him at the principal’s office” you looked behind him, trying to get a glimpse of the mentioned girl. the concentrated look on her face as she tried to solve the maths problem was evidence to you that she hadn’t heard her name being mentioned by jake. “said something about bleached hair that was definitely going to get the teachers mad”.

“now you got me excited” your small smile only sending butterflies to his stomach. you turn your head back down to face the still blank piece of paper, deciding that it was about time you started on that question.

“y’know he kinda looked familiar” the questioning tone in jake’s voice caught your attention, turning back to him in confusion.

“what do you mean?” a pout formed on your face. more confusion took over your face when you realised jake looked away from you quite fast, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

“i— i don’t know” he silently cursed himself for letting himself fall deeper into his one sided crush from only small moments. his sudden black mind caused him to forget what he was meant to say to you, only leaving you puzzled by his words.

jake sitting opposite to you as you ate your unsettlingly warm sandwich, was really the only thing really going on during lunch that say. although weirdly enough, park sunghoon’s glances and staring was a new addition to your lunch time. even without directly looking at him, you could feel his eyes as they dug into the back of your head.

“you know you can relax, sunghoon’s not gonna bite you” jake commented on your stiffness. you bit your lip anxiously when you realised how loud he was being, not wanting sunghoon to know he was currently the topic of conversation between the two of you.

“if you speak any louder he might hear you” you angrily whispered to his face as you rolled your eyes. the boy chuckled before placing a small ball of rice into his mouth.

“he won’t idiot” jake tells you with maybe little too much confidence. you noticed that sunghoon had looked away from you abruptly, his cheeks visibly reddening as he faced his desk. “oh”.

“why are you like this?” you expressed you concerns. jake shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where you were coming from. “i should be excited for the new student, not trying to tame you from embarrassing our class president!”, your voice lowering at the last few words.

“i think he wants to tell you something”

“i think i want you to shut up” you muttered and you took another bite from your sandwich, wincing at the warm tomato and soggy lettuce that came into contact with your mouth.

jake was about to fire back but was only stopped by your phone violently vibrating on the table. your eyes widen in embarrassment as you frantically tried to get to it. you turn your phone to look at the screen, a notification telling you someone was calling you. jake tried to take a peek at your phone, only abandoning the plan when he saw you glare at him.

“hey yeojin” a small smile forming on your lips when reciting your middle school friend’s name. im yeojin was your best friend up until high school when her parents made her go to an all girls boarding school instead of your co-ed high school. she hated it so much when it was initially brought up by them but from the looks of it now, she’s actually enjoying herself. yeojin was the only person, excluding jake, that ever knew about your crush on jay. jake found out when the two of you were looking through old middle school pictures, you pointed at jay in a class photo and that’s the story on how jake knows about jay’s existence. “what’s up?”.

“i’m not supposed to be on my phone” her voice was frantic. you knew from her many, many letters that her school was strict when it came to personal phones. she was only allowed it everyday for thirty minutes during lunch on the weekdays, three hours on the weekends. “but, i have some exciting news for you”.

“what is it?” jake could see your eyes glisten in curiosity. he chuckled to himself as he placed his chin in his palm, his full attention being placed onto you.

“guess”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this right now” you squinted in annoyance at her playfully attitude.

“i was kidding” yeojin’s contagious laugh caught up to you, making it look like you forgot about her joke on you. “but you know how you’re old instagram account got deleted because of—”

“don’t say it” you interrupted through gritted teeth. jake laughed loudly at your reaction, catching the attention of sunghoon yet again.

“anyways, and you basically lost all of our middle school classes handles?”

“yes, i remember it all a little too well” embarrassment laced through your words as you remembered the never-to-be-mentioned-again memory.

“anyways so jay...” your eyes lit up at the mention of his name, an unsettling feeling in jake’s stomach appearing due to your expression. “he’s back!”.

“he’s back?” you stood up from your seat in surprise. your class looked at you in concern before you apologised as you embarrassing lowered yourself down to your seat. “you’re not kidding me right?”.

“why would i lie?” you could feel yeojin’s eyes rolling through the phone. “oh shit, patrol’s back. gotta go, i’ll send a letter soon—”

jake watched as you ended the call staying seated with your eyes widened, unable to process what had happen. you couldn’t pinpoint any of the emotions you were feeling, were you happy? anxious? scared? you had no clue. you bite your lip, hoping the action can help your blank mind.

“so—”

“is this 3-A?” a loud voice entering the class interrupted jake, causing the boy to sigh out of frustration.

you turned your head in the direction. you felt yourself shake in more shock when you realised who the person at the entrance was, and from the way they looked back at you, he realised who you were to. you abruptly looked away, facing the window on your left with your face burning up as you held up a hand to cover your face.

jake’s puzzled expression took over his face before putting the pieces together. his heart was beating at such a fast rate that he felt breathless, he didn’t think he was at all ready to see his crush’s first love entering their own classroom.

he watched as sunghoon did his usual mannerly class president thing, standing up from his seat all professional and kind before making his way to jay with an open hand for him to shake.

“hello, you’re earlier than expected” sunghoon smiled, unsure if it was genuine or not due to the fact the boy in front of him didn’t even acknowledge his presence. he dropped his hand before letting out a quiet irritated sigh, trying to figure out what he had his eyes on.

even with sunghoon’s growing annoyed expression, jay’s eyes were still trained on you. it was like you were frozen, no muscle in your body allowed you to move as you blankly stared outside the window. the only thing moving was your eyes shutting completely as you felt footsteps coming your way, instantly knowing who it belonged to.

“y/n” a cheery voice made it’s way to jay’s words.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow at the two of you, not entirely following this whole situation. how did he know you? why did you seem so embarrassed? bashful even? and why was jake staring at jay like he just killed his family?

“j-jay hey, y-you’re back” you finally turned your head, however still unable to look at him in the eyes. jay chuckled at the way you tripped over your words, memories of the two of you from middle school playing in his head. he glanced down beside you, the empty seat almost begging him to sit there.

you almost feel yourself jump into your seat when you noticed jay was pulling back the chair beside you as he prepared himself to sit down. at this point jake’s face was visibly red, glaring at jay for reasons that cannot be exactly explained and sunghoon’s feet had even brought him all the way to your desk meaning he had a full view of this whole mess. you four had the whole classes attention, even with some whispering to each other about you. 

“it’s been a while” jay smiled through his words as he sat down, his position facing you as you struggled to make eye contact. you could feel yourself sweating from the unbearable heat coming from your cheeks, your head still blank unable to think properly.

“you two know each other?” sunghoon asked curiously as he placed his hand on his hip. you don’t know why but you cursed sunghoon silently in your head for asking that question, the thought of jay telling him you were only his friend pained you.

“yeah, middle school classmates” jay finally acknowledged the boy’s presence. sunghoon nodded in reply as he scanned your expression, unable to understand how you were feeling. “i had— i can’t say it it’s too embarrassing actually” jay rubbed his neck embarrassingly before turning away in embarrassment, only for his eyes to meet jakes.

“no, carry on” jake’s few words came out as a little passive aggressive but didn’t particularly offend jay in any way. it was quite obvious to everyone but you that jake was being a little jealous, possessive maybe from the way he glared at jay and sunghoon, who frankly didn’t really do anything up until this point.

“oh okay...” jay didn’t know why he felt nervous. maybe it was cause jake couldn’t keep his glare off of him or he was about to regret his next few words. “i had the biggest crush on y/n”.

now that got your attention. with wide eyes your eyes made contact with his at last, his cheeks were tinted pink and he had a bashful smile spread across his lips. you could even see jake in the corner of your eyes closing his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock. while sunghoon, who was right behind jay, looked like he wasn’t completely over the shocking revelation.

“i—” you felt speechless. this was the first time you’ve heard anything about this, you didn’t even think you were ever going to hear those words. you once again tried to open your mouth in an attempt to reply but was just met with nothing.

“they didn’t like me back though” jay continued. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyebrows raised with confusion taking over your face.

“but i—”

“y/n can we talk....” jake’s voice interrupting your soon to be confession as he stared at you with a serious expression. you turned to him, once again not fully processing this whole situation. “...outside the classroom?”.

you glanced back to jay who looked visibly irritated, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. sunghoon just stood behind him, staring at jake with what looked to be some sort of fear. letting out a sigh, you stood up from your seat as you looked jake in the eyes.

“let’s go outside jake” you were slightly thankful for his sudden request due to you not wanting to be stuck in that suffocating environment. you watched as he stood up from his seat, his expression changing into quite an anxious one.

the curiosity didn’t leave you as you followed jake out of the classroom, you even heard your classmates whisper to each other as you passed them. you didn’t even want to look back to see the face of jay, you had ended your long awaited reunion short just to go talk to your best friend by the staircase. jake glanced around the area to make sure nobody was there to listen to what he had to say.

“thanks for getting me out of there—”

“i like you” those three words almost made you faint on the spot.

was it time to wake up now?

[awesomerextyphoon]

Don’t Tell Me

This is for @cockslut-padalecki​’s Not My Ninth Challenge. My prompt was Stucky x Reader with Royal Au and No Doubt’s Don’t Speak for the lyrics.

Summary: You loved them with all your heart, but now you must wed another.

Pairing: Stucky x Black Female Reader, Brock Rumlow x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Warning: Angst, Implied Smut, Threesome, Mild Depictions of Violence, and Forced Marriage

A/N: This might be my saddest fic yet. I hope this isn’t too much of a downer for you, @cockslut-padalecki​. Happy Birthday and Congratulations on 9K followers!

Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

Back to Masterlist

“Rise and shine, Your Highness! Today’s the big day!” Sabine, your closest handmaiden, announced.

You covered your head with your pillow in irritation, “I don’t want to!”

Sabine sighed, “You have to get up or the guards will come and force you out of bed.”

With an annoyed huff, you got up and stretched, “Let’s get this over with, Sabine.”

You had been dreading this day for weeks. Today was the day you were to wed Brock Rumlow, ruler of the Triskelion Empire. You didn’t want to marry him. He was boorish, cruel, and violent.

But most of all, you didn’t want to marry Brock because your heart belonged to Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes.

  It started when you were six years old. You were sent to Brooklynd to be King Joseph’s ward as part of a peace initiative (you later found out it was because of a failed coup and your mother wanted you safe).

King Joseph, Queen Sarah, and the court loved you. Only Prince Steven and his best friend, James Barnes Duke of Shelby, gave you the cold shoulder.

It sucked because they were the only ones near your age. You tried to win them over with baked goods from your homeland, trinkets and toys Queen Sarah said that Steven would love, and some of your favorite books. Nothing worked until you had enough and confronted them.

Steven was about to enter the stables with James when you caught them. You just wanted to ask why they were avoiding you, but as your mother warned you got violent and socked James with a left hook. It got to the point that the guards had to split up the three of you.

Queen Sarah had an unusual and embarrassing punishment: the three of you had to sit in a circle and hold hands for one hour under the stern eye of the governess and the queen herself. The air was thick with tension until the governess farted. You tried your hardest not to laugh, but you help yourself. Soon Steven and James joined in the merriment.

You were best friends ever since.

 “What do you want for your bath, Your Highness?”

“May I have the Rose, Hibiscus, Black Pepper, Lemongrass oils for the bath, and the Amla/Coconut Oil mixture for my hair, please. Thank you, Ngozi.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Once the oils were applied to the bath, you sunk in sighing from the nearly scalding water; its warmth giving you a peace of mind that has been denied to you for weeks.

You wondered how it got to this, then you frowned at the bitter memories symbolized by the single piece of jewelry under your pillow.

  The three of you became thick as thieves. Always helping each other in defending one another whether it be fighting off Steve’s bullies with Bucky or telling the snobby rich girls to stuff it whenever they said you weren’t feminine enough.

Joke’s on them because you passed all of your etiquette classes with flying colors.

Though something happened when you turned thirteen; you started seeing your best friends in a new light. You noticed how Bucky’s shoulders were broadening, Steven’s full bottom lip, the dazzling blues in their eyes, or how their laughs.

Sabine, your closest handmaiden, and friend, confirmed it; you were falling in love with them.

You were scared at first; you didn’t want to ruin your friendship with them. So you started avoiding them by spending time with Duchess Natalia and Marchioness Monica as they were the only female peers you could stand.

You would sneak glances at them when you thought they weren’t looking, but they were.

It went on like that for a year until Bucky had enough and confessed to liking you. You were relieved that he returned your affections, but was taken aback when Steven grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Turns out they’ve been a secret item for six months.

They both loved you and wanted to make it work.

And it did, for a time. You spent a great deal of time together. Though they were a few close calls since your mother instructed Queen Sarah not to let you court anyone and Steven and Bucky couldn’t go public just yet.

It didn’t matter; you just wanted to be near them. The three of you would sneak kisses by moonlight, write secret love letters, all the fun, and mushy stuff. Your relationship reached a new level when Steve and Bucky presented you with a vibranium and dragon’s gold alloy promise ring with ruby rose and emerald leaves. The three of you vowed to be together forever.

It was pure bliss; you didn’t want it to end.

  “Life had other plans, huh?” you muttered to yourself as your handmaidens were making the final body preparations before you got into your gown.

  Your mother, Queen Ketandu, had written to you and Queen Sarah requesting that you return to Abia in order to complete your studies and take on royal duties. You cried in Bucky’s arms for hours before he had to return to his quarters the morning before your departure.

It wasn’t long before puberty hit you like an airship going at full speed (late bloomer). You became famed for your beauty with scores of suitors, but you rejected them all. Only Bucky and Steve would have your hand.

One of the suitors, Brock Rumlow of Triskelion took it especially hard. He vowed he would have your hand, but your cousin, Samuel Wilson, said to pay him no mind.

You were only able to communicate with Steve and Bucky via phone or letters. It took you four years to return to Brooklynd, but it was not a joyous occasion. King Joseph had passed and Steven was to be crowned king within the fortnight.

Both of them had changed so much, especially Steve; he was nearly unrecognizable. He towered over nearly everyone (only Bucky, Thor, Loki, and M’Baku were taller), broad shoulders, rich tawny pink skin, and a face that could make nearly all the women (and some men) swoon.

He looked like the kings of old, even more so than his father.

Bucky wasn’t slacking either with the way many of the courtiers were ogling him; admiring him for his rugged, yet prim presence.

They were Rulers of Paradise and you were to be their queen.

The three of you finally made love that night. It was your first time, so they decided to be gentle and showered you with kisses and affection. Steve and Bucky worshipped your body as if it was the last thing they would enjoy before the afterlife.

It was as though you were dreaming.

  “Here’s your wedding gown, Your Highness.” Zara, another handmaiden, exclaimed.

“Thank you, Zara.” You tried your best to not let the tears fall. This day was never supposed to happen.

Why did your dream have to die like this?!

  The first crack in your fantasy came with the news of your older brother’s assassination and the outbreak of a civil war. Your sister-in-law begged you to come home.

Your airship was to leave first thing in the morning.

You raced to inform your lovers of your departure. One of the servants said that they saw Steve in his mother’s rose garden. Thinking it was Steve being shy and needing some rest, you ventured into the garden only for fantasy and your heart shatter completely.

In the rose garden under the central archway was Steve on one knee proposing to Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter with Bucky looking on with a smile and the full moon behind them.

Everything froze at that moment.

Why?! Why did they do this?! Were your feelings a joke to them? Did they ever love you?

Unable to hold back your despair, you shrieked at the ideal romantic scene before you.

Steve tried to explain the situation and Bucky almost caught you, but you ran away before you could hear them.

You left for Abia that night.

  “Now ladies,” Lady Bente, the wedding planner bellowed, “remember, this is Emperor Rumlow’s big day. There’s no room for failure.” She didn’t need to say what would happen if you tried anything ‘funny’.

“I know. How can I forget the threats?” grumbled as Sabine put the final touches on your wedding outfit: an off-the-shoulder A-Line Tulle Wedding Dress, a Hand-crafted white gold Baroque tiara inlaid with pale sapphires, diamonds, and pearls, and matching earring and necklace.

Looking in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The dress accentuated your curves and the jewels made your face glow. You were a vision.

Too bad it was for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy everything you hold dear.

  Barely six months after you returned from Brooklynd, Abia conquered by the Triskelion Empire. Their ambassador informed the council that the empire will let Abia continue as a client state if you married their emperor, Brock Rumlow.

If not, Triskelion would raze Abia to the ground and take her citizens as slaves.

The council implored you as Triskelion forces had Sam captive and Abia’s army was running out of supplies.

With a heavy and broken heart, you accepted Rumlow’s terms.

The wedding was to be in a month.

  You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, “Too bad Rumlow isn’t getting a virgin.”

“Goodbye, Your Highness.” Sabine whispered, “Now, don’t you start crying after all the work I put into ya!”

“I know it’s just not fair. I have to lose you, too?” Rumlow made it clear that you were to leave your old world behind, including your closest friend and confidant.

Sabine pulled you in for a hug, “I know it’s not. It’s been a pleasure and delight being your handmaiden and friend.”

“Alright, everyone! Line up! The wedding is about to begin!” Lady Bente ordered.

You gave your friend one last glance before the doors shut behind you, “Goodbye Sabine.”

  The cathedral was spectacular.

Bouquets of roses and elven tulips adorned the pillars. The banners of Abian and Triskelion colors were delicately placed creating an ethereal atmosphere.

Rumlow really outdid himself.

Dignitaries from far and wide were in attendance. You saw your mother, uncle, Sam, and your sister holding her ten-month-old son.

Rumlow took your hand with a triumphant smirk. You could say that he was handsome if you didn’t want to claw his eyes out.

“You look ravishing, darling.”

“I hate you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Dearly beloved and exalted rulers, we are gathered here today to join the Triskelion Emperor and the Second Princess of Abia in holy matrimony.”

You closed your eyes in resignation. No one was coming. Maybe Brock wouldn’t be so bad.

“If anyone has any reason as to why these two should not be married.”

Then you remembered how he threatened your mother and uncle when after Abia surrendered. His twisted smirk was enough to make your blood boil.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The cathedral was silent for a few minutes until the doors were blown off their hinges and several guards were flung to the opposite wall behind the altar.

Everyone turned to find smoke and debris. An inhuman roar filled the venue terrifying the guests.

Two figures emerged from the smoke and your eyes widened in shock.

“We do.”

[oikadori]

A/N: No one asked for this but I really wanted to write some angsty fic...so this is the outcome of listening to Callum Scott and Conan Gray for three full days asfkasjk sorry this is the longest thing I’ve written Hope you like it!

Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Summary: He was your best friend and she was perfect, but still you fell for him

Genre: angst, unrequited love 

Warnings: self-doubt, insecurity, swearings 

Now playing: Dancing On My Own, Heather 

WC~2,6K

You should already be used to hear it, but every time Atsumu let out a booming laugh you couldn’t help staring at him with dreamy eyes.

“Oi, Y/N!  Are you even listening to me?” his hazel eyes open, looking at you playfully.

“Yes, I’m hearing you, and no, it wasn’t as funny as you think” he frowns, pushing you from your chair almost making you fall if it wasn’t for his quick grip on your forearm, “You asshole!”

“Why so harsh on me today, sweetheart?”

Yo feel your stomach twist at the nickname, making Atsumu smile at the way your cheeks get a dark red.

“Because you were a total dick with those poor girls” he sighs, tired, stretching his arms behind his head, “You could’ve been nicer, you know?”

Biting your lip, you remember the teary eyes of those girls as they ran away sobbing after they had told him their love confession. Would you have the same luck if- No, no way you had a crush on him.

“They have a crush just on my looks, it’s annoying”, he spits, “Why do you care so much anyways?”

“I…-” he looks at you with curiosity as you carefully think your words, “-I guess I would feel horrible if I were them and confessed”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on someone Y/N”

“Of course not, all of you ,men, are idiots”, he place his hand on his chest with a wounded look, making your eyes roll, a smile tickling your lips, “Now, hurry with your homework, you’re stealing my lunch time”

He reaches for his bag, taking out his lunch box to hand you the extra Onigiri he had. You smile fondly even if it is not the first time he brings you food during your study sessions.

He was your best friend, yet his gestures never failed to dazzle you.... Maybe you do have a crush on him.

 ///

You enter the gym with a tired look, a yawn slips pass your lips before sitting on the bleachers, you plug your earbuds and take out an unfinished assignment from your bag. The second years wave at you, Atsumu sticking his tongue out, you wave back before locking eyes with him and returning the gesture, making the setter grin.

The next time you lift your eyes from your work, you open them wide before taking off your earbuds to listen to the scene in front of you.

A girl wearing the team’s jacket enter the gym alongside the captain, making it feel as if the time stop. The team look at them in surprise as she bows.

“I’m eager to be your new manager! I used to play but-” she points at her wrist with a shy smile,” I got pretty bad injured so I hope I can be helpful here”, you advert Atsumu’s gaze, making your heart flinch a little.

“I’m Miya Atsumu, setter, I haven’t see ya around before” the girl looks at him with an eager look, leaning closer, a happy smile on her face as Atsumu stands still, the smirk on his face fades as she erases the gap between them. ‘The hell is she doing?’

“Oh, I know you! The star setter, guess what they say about you is truth-”, you wait for the usual compliments girls told him all the time, your lips curve up a little remembering Atsumu’s usual reaction at them, “-your serves are truly monstrous, your technique is impeccable”

His eyes glimmer with curiosity and you notice the light blush on his cheeks as he gives her his best smile. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve seen him flirting with girls, hooking up with one before getting another, but this…this was different.

You stand up before properly thinking what you are doing. You haven’t felt jealous before and you didn’t have the right for it, but an overwhelming despair sets the pace of your feet as they move towards them.

“I used to be a setter myself but-“

“Hey, Tsumu, see you after practice to finish our chemistry homework?” you peek your head between them, making the girl take a few steps back, a surprise look on her face. Atsumu looks at your innocent smile and blinks.

“Y/N, I told you not to call me that in practice-” he whispers to you, hiding it with a few coughs, “Uhmm, sure” the couch calls them and he waves at you before jogging off with the new manager to line up with the rest.

Your eyes linger on them a few more seconds, he laughs with her, making you furrow your eyebrows together, noticing just now, how beautiful she was.

///

“You still look like crap”

“Shut up, Samu!

You stand between the twins near the main door of the cafeteria, watching Atsumu run his hand through his hair multiple times as he stares at his reflection on one of the windows ‘All that… for her?’

A voice that comes from behind you, makes Atsumu look over your shoulder with a nervousness you haven’t seen before.

“Tsum Tsum!”

He gasps at the sight of her, the short dress she is wearing frames her figure perfectly, and you can’t help to look at your own clothes wondering if you couldn’t have dressed more casually.

You remain silent as she reaches for his hair and ruffles it friendly, the display in front of you feels surreal, suddenly your limbs are numb and your eyes can’t seem to drift away from Atsumu’s happy smile as he grabs her wrist to kiss her hand.

“You look stunning”

“What a gentleman – Oh, hey ‘Samu and-“

“Y/N” the words come sharper than you intended, the girl just let out an innocent giggle

“I’m so sorry! I don’t get to see you a lot in school, you’re in the advanced classes, right?”

“Y/N is a genius, they wouldn’t allow me to play if it wasn’t for her”, Atsumu says pointing at you with pride while his other hand rests on the small of her back guiding her to your table. A lump forms on your throat, making it impossible for you to reply, you  manage to pull an empty smile.

On the table you are silent as ever, nodding at all the conversations the second years try to include you in. Your mind is already far away, wondering all the possibilities that could happen if you were brave enough to confess right there, right now, but the sight in front of you snaps you to reality again.

Atsumu lips gets stained by some red sauce and before you can point it out, she licks her thumb before pressing it on his lips. His cheeks turn bright red and his jaw slightly slacks open.

“How is that you aren’t already dating? It’s been almost three months since you are all over each other” Suna casually says

Three months indeed, and she entered more and more in their small circle. But how could you stop it when she was just…so lovely?

 Atsumu stayed until much later in practice but still you chatted together. Late night texts, becoming in late night calls to check up on each other.

‘I want to ask her out. Fuck, I want her so badly, but what if she rejects me, Y/N!’

‘Tsumu, you’re Japan’s top high school setter. Believe me, she won’t reject you’

Now you want to hit your head against the nearest wall, remembering your stupid words.

“Would you say yes if I ask you out?” 

“I would say yes to more than that” the table falls dead silent at her words as if they waited for the next scene of a movie.

 Suddenly Atsumu press his lips against hers with ferocity, she pulls the collar of his shirt, deepening the already heated kiss. You almost choke on your water, earning a concern look from Kita, you find yourself standing up violently before rushing to the restroom.

You close the door behind you before looking at yourself in the mirror, ‘I could have never competed with her’. You bite your lip, and shut your eyes tightly, your hands grasping both sides of the sink, you let your head fall forwards, eyes fixed on the white of the porcelain as they water.

“Y/N, are you okay?” you stiffen at the soft female voice coming from the other side of the door, “Do you need help?”, you let out an humorless laugh. ‘A sweetheart with everyone, huh?’

“I-I don’t feel good, it’ll better if I head home. Please tell the others, I had an emergency or something” your throat feels extremely dry all of sudden and your voice comes out shaky.

“Oh! I can take you home-“

“I’ll rather go alone! I don’t know if I’m sick and I’d hate to…infect you. Thank you, tho”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“Okay…text me when you get home!”

When you hear the footsteps fading away, you wait a few more minutes to walk out the restroom, just to find Atsumu talking cheerfully, his eyes filled with adoration for her. He didn’t even look at your direction as you left the cafeteria, and in that very moment you realized he would never look at you that way.

 ///

“Where is Y/N, I haven’t seen her in years?”

“I think she is tutoring some first years”

“Oh” Atsumu finds himself looking at your usual spot on the bleachers, he barely got to see or talk to you in the recent weeks. 

You’ve been missing his calls on purpose. Since that dinner, you had to put all your energy to smile at him when he waved at you in the corridors as he held her hand. It had been almost a month of hearing him talking about how gracious she was and weeks of looking how they made out on the couch in the end of the library or against one of the gym’s walls.

You thought that if you put distance with him, you’ll manage to get over that soreness that felt heavy on your chest each time she made him laugh. But no matter how many extra classes you took or how many first years you tutored, your mind always came back to Inarizaki’s setter.

The sky was dark by the time you finished tutoring the last first year, he bowed at you and you gave him a brief smile before locking the classroom. You handled the keys to your teacher and walked out of the building.

The cold wind hit your face, making you shiver, you search for your jacket in your bag, finding only a scarf. Atsumu gave it to you. You haven’t used it in a while now, but the cold was too much to bear with for your thin uniform. You place the material carefully around your neck, caressing the fabric begore sighing, watching your breath fading into the air and start walking.

“Oi” his voice makes you turn instantly, and you catch him jogging to you, “It’s fucking cold out here!- Uh, you still have it?” he points at your neck with a cheeky grin.

Atsumu looks extremely handsome like this, a little pink on his nose and cheeks and the few lights highlight the hazel of his eyes. It makes you gulp before replying.

“Of course, I do. It was my first two-digit birthday!”, he laughs remembering the chaos you both made by that age, you smile a little before looking at him with concern, “What are you still doing here? Something happened?”

“No! I-I just wanted to walk home with you, like we used to” he looks at the ground and sighs, “I know you’re busy, but I missed ya” the words make your heart warm even when you can’t stop shivering, “You are freezing” he takes his volleyball jacket and place it over your shoulders

“No, I’m fine, really. You should-”

“Stubborn as always. What am I supposed to do with your freeze corpse?”, you huff, putting the jacket on as he starts walking.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“She already left, don’t worry she knows you’re my best friend, she won’t act bitchy at you” you just nod and start walking alongside the setter, not caring about the sting that ypu just felt in your heart.

The walk is long and awkward, Atsumu finally getting hit by the way your friendship had changed. Your brief answers and forced smiles make him more and more annoyed, becoming more silent with each minute.

You didn’t have the energy to keep up with his drollery, each time you looked at him you just felt the urge to be held by him and tell him the painful truth: You didn’t have a crush on him. No.  You loved him.

“What is wrong with you?” he says, suddenly stopping.

“Excuse me- “

“If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say it! Jesus!”, his exasperated tone makes your eyes narrow, “-But don’t have me fooling around, worrying about you for almost a month” your mouth twitches downwards as you realize your indifference had hit a spot on his pride. 

For a solid minute you don’t hear anything, you just stare at him with a flood of thoughts rushing through your head until you manage to pull one of them out into a dry whisper.

“We shouldn’t be friends anymore- “his clenched fists loosen, and he watches your lips carefully, “I can’t do it anymore – thought I could but…is too much”,

The crack of your voice makes you stop for second, giving you time to gain a little bit more of air before feeling again as if you were drowning.

“I can’t be friends with you anymore, because I want you!… The worst part is that she is so FUCKING perfect!” your arms move in the air letting out all the feelings you had bottled up.

“I thought I could brush away the feeling, but I realize – I  love you, Atsumu” his mouth opens slightly not able to produce a sound as your arms fall to your sides, a tear streaming down your cheek.

You take his jacket off, the cold air embracing your body, but you can’t care less. He motions to you, but you lift your hand, stopping him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have changed anything?” his silence tells you all you needed, making your heart clench, “That – That’s what I though…It’s okay, really. I wouldn’t choose me either” your breath becomes irregular and you bite your lip, capturing a sob, “This is my fault, falling in love with you…If being friends makes you happy, I-I will do my best to be your friend, then”

Atsumu was usually selfish with the things he wanted and proud about the things he made but seeing you there, shivering with red eyes and swollen lips, made his heart ache.

And he couldn’t be less proud about the things he was about to say.

“You were right before. We shouldn’t be friends anymore. I do not want to deal with you being in love with me and my girlfriend”, you hiccup, fixing your sore eyes on his, “You made things so fucking complicated, it’s better to end this now”, he hiss, gritting his teeth, waiting for you to storm out.

 But when he feels your cold lips on his cheek, he bites his bottom lip harshly.

“Sorry, I never meant-”, ‘To fall for you’, it takes all his will power to not envelope you in his arms, so he only turns his face away, hearing your sobs. He loved you but not the way you did. “-to mess us up”

You walk away quickly, tears running down your cheeks as you press your hand firmly against your lips, drowning the uncontrollable sobs. Atsumu stands there watching you disappear into the coldness of the night, shutting his eyes tightly, understanding, he had lost his best friend.

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

Thanks for reading ♡♡♡

↳ ∴ Master List ∴

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

Falling (in love)...

For the cute @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321​ 😘

Hope you’ll enjoy the story!

When the last student left the classroom, (Y/N) (L/N) let out a sigh of relief. She was glad that the day was over. It was exciting to teach dozens of students how to prepare medicines from first to seventh grade, but it was also exhausting.

However, teaching at Hogwarts was a privilege that many wizards would love to have, and she was one of the lucky few.

The young woman put her things away and walked out of her classroom and into her chambers.

Unlike most of her colleagues, she didn't spend much time in the staff room and preferred to work quietly in her room. Moreover, she had a great view of the school grounds and the Quidditch pitch. 

Speaking of which, she spotted a group of students playing on the pitch, broomsticks flying in all directions.

Seeing them having fun brought back fond memories for (Y/N). Before she became a teacher, she was a professional Quidditch player. She had won many competitions with her team, the Northumberland Falcons, for several years. 

When a Bludger nearly knocked her off her broomstick in a final, she decided to quit before anything dramatic happened.

It was painful for her to give up her favourite sport, but she knew it was the right thing to do. 

Since then, she enjoyed watching Quidditch matches and cheered on the Hogwarts students in all different tournaments.

But tonight, as she watched the students having a great time, nostalgia for her playing days had started to catch up with her. 

She was dying to get on a broom and chase a Golden Snitch, just like in the old days. And after all, why not?

An hour later, (Y/N) was on the field, dressed in her player's outfit, holding her broom, a CleanSweep Eleven, and ready to have fun.

"OK, (Y/N): time to see if you still had the flame!"

She opened the trunk and took out a Quaffle, the principal ball of the game.

Once ready, she took to the air and enjoyed throwing the ball high into the air before catching it in midair. 

The young woman was delighted to see that she had not lost her playing reflexes.

"Like good old days..."

What she didn't know was that someone was watching her with admiration.

Remus Lupin was surprised to see someone flying solo on the Quidditch pitch, but when he realised it was (Y/N), he was not surprised either.

He knew the young woman's passion for this sport. Whenever (Y/N) mentioned it, her eyes sparkled with joy, and her face lit up, making her even more beautiful in Remus' eyes.

He had a real crush on her from the first day she joined the Hogwarts teaching staff. And luckily, they got along very well. 

But the werewolf was too shy to declare his love for her, which amused Sirius greatly as he teased him about it:

"Ah, my poor wolf! You know how to howl at the moon, but when it comes to girls, you run like a rabbit!"

Remus was always like that: a great shy one. So, until he could find the courage to confess his feelings, he was content to admire (Y/N) from afar, as the wolf would admire the moon.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was having fun as a child, twirling in the air on her broom. 

But caught up in her euphoria, she did not notice that a Bludger waved violently in the chest, trying, by all means, to get out of its restraint.

And like a champagne cork, the Bludger leapt into the air, ready to smash into anything in its path.

Terrified, Remus put his hands like a megaphone and shouted:

"(Y/N), watch out! A Bludger has escaped!"

Upon hearing this, (Y/N) broke out in a cold sweat: a Bludger! That was all she needed!

As she flew over the field, the young woman looked around, dreading the presence of that damned knocking ball.

And as if to confirm her fears, a projectile grazed her head at full speed, making her lose her balance momentarily.

In a panic, she lost control of her broom and started to fly in all directions, brushing the stands several times.

And what had to happen happened: (Y/N) lost her balance and fell off her broom in midair.

The young woman closed her eyes, dreading the impact of her back on the ground. It was all over for her: she would never fly again in her life.

But just as (Y/N) expected to feel her spine break on the ground, she felt two strong arms catch her instead.

She opened her eyes and saw Remus' worried face.

"My God, (Y/N)! Are you all right?"

"Uh... yes!" the young woman murmured, blushing slightly.

But no sooner had the witch realised she was safe than the Bludger came charging back and charged straight at them.

Remus barely ducked, letting the Bludger slam into a wall, getting stuck in the process.

"Well, that was close!" muttered (Y/N), still in shock at what had just happened.

She turned to Remus:

"Thanks for catching me!"

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"No, I'm fine..."

It was at this point that Lupin thought it wise to apply Sirius' advice.

The werewolf replied with a seductive tone:

"I meant... Didn't you hurt yourself when you fell from the sky, angel?"

(Y/N) did not believe it: since when did Remus say such lame pick-up lines? She suspected a certain Animagus was behind it.

Putting on a deadpan expression, she replied:

"Tell me: you didn't just call me Satan, did you?"

Remus was shocked: it wasn't supposed to be like this! Why wasn't it working?

Seeing the confused look on his saviour's face, the witch burst out laughing:

"You should see your face! It's hilarious!"

"Very funny indeed!" grumbled Remus.

He was beginning to regret listening to Sirius.

Suddenly he felt (Y/N)'s hand gently tap his cheek.

"Don't worry: I was joking. I thank you for coming to my rescue."

"It's the least I could do. I'd be upset if anything bad happened to you!"

"But it's not your fault! It's not your fault that bloody Bludger got out of his trunk!"

Feeling that he was starting to blush, Remus replied:

"That's not what I meant. I... I care about you, (Y/N). So, even though my attempt was disastrous, I wanted you to know that I love it when you talk about Quidditch with passion. I love to hear your laughter echoing through the halls of the school. I love to smell your perfume wafting through your classroom... Anyway: I love everything about you."

At these words, the witch began to blush.

"And since when have you been thinking about all this?"

"Since the first day, I met you. From the first time we talked, I knew that no woman would be a match for you. But I've often thought that I wouldn't be a match for you."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm afraid of my nature, (Y/N). I don't want the beast in me to hurt you, or worse."

(Y/N) stroked his cheek.

"Remus, you're not the monster you think you are. To me, you are the most sincere, kind, and extraordinary man I have ever had. And if there are any who are too stupid not to see that, then they don't get it!"

She added:

"And then I fell into your arms... But what is certain is that I fell under your spell!"

At that very moment, Remus could swear it was the most marvellous thing he had ever heard in his life.

He stammered:

"Do you mean it?"

"Of course, my little wolf. You don't think I'm going to lie to my saviour?"

Pleased, Remus placed a chaste kiss on the young woman's forehead before leading her towards Hogwarts castle.

"Come on, let's get you home: I think you've earned a bit of a rest after these adventures!"

"And you won't let me walk?"

"Why? I think you fit perfectly in my arms!"

Sure, it was quite a fall... but falling in love was worth a broom rodeo, right?

Neither Remus nor (Y/N) will tell you otherwise...

Thanks for reading: I hope you enjoyed this story!

Don’t hesitate to leave comments, like or reblog!

Can’t wait to see your requests!

See u soon and take care! 😍🥰😘💖

[autumnsart22]

Kidnapped: Feitan x fem reader💀

Little angsty fic for my torture gremlin 🤪 

Tags: Brief description of torture, mentions of sex and violence, almost rape scene (not with Fei)

You didn’t think you had ever hated anyone more than Feitan Portor. He was cruel, arrogant, and selfish, taking every opportunity to humiliate you and get on your nerves. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what to do to piss you off, and there had been more than one occasion when your arguing had gotten you two in very tight spots during missions. 

It didn’t always used to be that way. When you had first joined the Phantom Troupe, you had actually been pretty good friends with him, closer than most of the other Troupe members. But over time he had become cold and cruel, turning his back on you and becoming your tormentor instead. 

Which was why you were pissed off at Chrollo for pairing you up with Feitan for the next mission, but the Troupe leader insisted that you worked well together when you weren’t constantly arguing...which was rare. And unfortunately, this was going to be a big heist. 

Tonight you would be infiltrating the underground auction in Yorknew city to steal all the goods up for auction. It was a large job, especially facing off against all the mafia bosses, and you had to look the part in order to blend in. You were done up in a pretty red dress, your hair swept up to reveal crystal earrings and your lightly done makeup. Honestly, you were kind of feeling yourself, which was unusual because you didn’t usually care about how you looked. 

Feitan walked silently beside you as you made your way from the Troupe’s hideout in the direction of where you would be entering the auction. He was dressed up as well, wearing a black tuxedo and missing the usual bandana over his face, which you knew made him uncomfortable being so exposed. You might have tried to be nice if he’d not given you a once over when he saw you, a sneer pulling up his face as he scoffed. So instead of politely ignoring him, you grinned coldly and said, “You look like shit.” 

“You look like whore.” 

Your hands curled into fists, but you managed to not punch him. You did look slightly whory, but that was the point. You wanted to tempt all the big business men into spilling their riches into your waiting palms, even if it meant flashing a bit of bare leg and cleavage. The little gremlin didn’t have to point it out though. 

It was easy getting inside the auction, and soon you and Feitan were mingling with the guests as you waited for the event to begin. Feitan scanned the room with narrowed eyes, searching for our main target among the many rich mafia bosses throughout the area: Teika Rubin. 

As the son of one of the largest syndicate bosses in Yorknew city, Teika was set to inherit almost 20 million Jenny once he took over the business. He was at the auction in place of his father, and he currently held a diamond worth at least 5 million Jenny--more if you sold it right--in order to sell to a private buyer. It was your job to get him alone so that you could steal it. 

“He there,” Feitan murmured, his hair brushing your ear as he gestured towards the back of the room. He was right; at the center of an excessive number of bodyguards was Teika himself. 

He was young, maybe around twenty four, but you could tell by his eyes that his age didn’t mean inexperienced. You honestly had expected a pampered rich boy, but this was different. Cruel, smug, and powerful. And, if the way his eyes scanned the room with careful observation skills was any tell, smart. Not a good combination. Your mission may have been a bit harder than you expected, but there was no way you were going to tell Feitan that. 

“I’ll get him alone, but make sure you follow us.” 

You didn’t wait for a response as you slid away into the crowd. 

It ended up going exactly as you wanted. You spilled a drink on yourself and one of his guards, and like the charming person he was, Teika offered you a change of clothes. It only took a few sultry looks and suggestive words before he had you pinned up against the wall of one of the private rooms, shoving your dress up as he checked the clock. 

“I think I have enough time,” he said, smiling slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well for this.” 

What had Feitan called you? A whore? You pushed that thought violently from your head as Teika started to kiss down your neck. 

You shuddered, clenching your teeth as he slid his hands along your thighs, your dress riding up almost to your hips. You were willing to do whatever it took to succeed in this mission and not let the rest of the Troupe down, but it was hard to force down your disgust and fear. 

Even if you wanted to escape, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and your Nen wasn’t exactly a combat tool. You were able to see the near future of yourself and people you loved if they were in life threatening danger, but although the power had gotten you out of many tight spots, it had holes. For example, if your opponent was just aiming to injure rather than kill, then you were completely in the dark. 

Plus, Teika was powerful. You didn’t know what his Nen power was exactly, but Chrollo had confirmed that he could be considered around the same level as a Phantom Troupe member in terms of combat ability. 

Please, Feitan, hurry.

The syndicate heir held your throat tightly as he went to tug your dress from your shoulders, and a small whimper of panic escaped your throat. 

And then Teika was being thrown across the room, slamming into the wall as you slid to the floor, gasping for air. Feitan stood over you, his eyes blank as he surveyed your rumbled hair and the way your dress had ridden up. 

“Let’s go,” he snapped, and you straightened your shoulders, snatching the knife he tossed you out of the air. 

Teika was quick to give up the jewel in his possession when he realized that all of his guards were dead, but he didn’t seem very upset about it. In fact, the manic look in his eye was almost gleeful as he watched you exit the room with Feitan. 

“Phantom Troupe,” you heard him mutter as the door clicked shut, and you set about locking him in there. 

“Why don’t we just kill him?” You asked, but Feitan didn’t even look at you. 

“Take too long,” he finally grunted. 

It was true. You could already hear the sound of gunshots coming from the main auction hall where Shizuku and Franklin were taking care of the rest of the mafia bosses, and soon the entire place would be swarmed with law enforcement and other mafia members. A fight between Feitan and Teika would be so destructive and long that it would cause more harm than good. 

“Thanks for coming in time,” you said as you walked side by side towards the back of the building where you were going to meet the other Troupe members.

Feitan snorted. “Seemed like fun.” 

Your mouth fell open, and you gaped at him. “I was just doing my part.”

“All you good for anyway,” he muttered, and you froze. 

“What?” 

Feitan crossed his arms, turning to you. “You useless.” 

“Y-you-” You were struggling to speak. You were used to petty insults, but this was different. He was dead serious. So you said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re just jealous.” 

Instantly, Feitan’s eyes flashed and turned lethal. “Jealous? Of what? You nothing but a burden to the Troupe with your arrogance and annoying personality. You weak, and the only thing you can do is…” His eyes trailed significantly down your short dress. 

You thought such things on the daily, but hearing them from him in particular made it worse. Tears filled your eyes unprompted, but you weren’t going to cry. Instead, you straightened your shoulders and turned your back on him, walking away without another word. You weren’t sure you could forgive him this time. 

------

3 hours later: 

“Where Y/n?” Phinks glared at Feitan as he met him outside of the auction hall, but Feitan only shrugged. “Is she ok?” He pushed, and the short Troupe member flipped him off. 

“She left.” He finally said. 

Feitan hadn’t been able to get your hurt expression out of his head, the tears shimmering in your eyes. He had never seen you cry before, or at least not because of him. He had gone too far. 

He had just been so enraged, seeing you pushed up against the wall by someone who wasn’t him. And then you had let out the sexiest sound he had ever heard, as if you were enjoying yourself, and he had lost it. He hadn’t meant to take it out on you--he never did. But that’s always what seemed to happen. 

“What did you do?” Phinks said in annoyance. Phinks and Shalnark had been trying to get Feitan to confess to liking you for years, and had eventually resorted to getting him blackout drunk. Shalnark had pretended to boast about seducing you, and Feitan had gone nuts. That was all the confirmation they needed. 

Since then, they had both tried to get him to confess to you, or at least not act like he hated you. But the issue was, Feitan wasn’t going to be weak over some girl. He wouldn’t allow you to take priority over the other good things in life, like torture, murder, and stealing. Caring about someone meant putting yourself at risk for them, and Feitan wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice, not even for you. 

But damn, that dress. He had had to talk himself out of dragging you back inside and forcing you to change, so that no other person except for him would ever get to see you in it. Perhaps his feelings were purely physical; that would be perfectly normal. But it didn’t explain why he wanted to be with you all the time, or why he enjoyed how red your face got when you were pissed at him, or why he loved watching you get all animated while telling a story, even as he pretended not to listen. 

But this time he could tell that he had gone too far, and you weren’t going to forgive him easily. Shit. He hated the idea of apologizing, but he hated the idea of you ignoring him even more. Maybe this one time he would put his pride aside…

Feitan began to walk a little faster as they approached the Troupe’s hideout, but he froze as they entered the abandoned building. 

There was blood everywhere. It covered the floors and was splattered along the walls, as if a major fight had gone down. In the center of the gore was a black screen. 

Machi emerged from behind some of the rubble, her eyes dark as she approached. “I just got back, but it looks like this was the work of one of the syndicates. I don’t know how they found our hideout though, or why they’d come when it was empty.”

“Where’s Y/n.” Feitan’s voice was soft, fury dripping from every word. Maybe she hadn’t come back to the hideout. Maybe she would be walking through the doors soon with Chrollo, and Feitan could apologize. 

As if in response to his question, the black screen flickered, and footage of a grey, concrete room appeared. In front of the camera was a familiar young man, and Feitan’s mind went blank. 

“I’m assuming that you’ve returned to your base by now,” Teika Rubin grinned, adjusting the camera. “I hope so, because this is live footage and you’ll miss the show!” 

The rest of the Troupe members had gathered around the screen at the center of the room, silently assessing as Teika stepped back...to reveal you.

You were tied to a chair and blindfolded, but you wrenched violently on the bonds holding you. “You disgusting shithead,” you snarled, and Teika backhanded you across the face. 

Feitan couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. 

Teika continued lightly, “As you can see, I have your lovely member here with me, and we’re going to be spending some quality time together. If you want her back, you will return my money.” 

“How did they get her?” Nobunaga growled, fists clenching. 

“They must have some sort of tracking Nen user. Or--”

“Does it matter?” Feitan interrupted. “We go--” 

He froze as he watched Teika pick up a knife and drench it in a familiar amber liquid. It was an extremely rare mix that Feitan had used on a number of occasions with tricky patients, and it always got them talking almost instantly. The pain from a single drop was almost enough to knock someone unconscious. Feitan had tried a bit on himself once out of curiosity, and even he had been surprised at how awful the experience was. 

Teika was smiling sadistically as he lifted your arm, pressing the knife against the skin of your wrist and sliding upward. Your scream was almost enough to make Feitan throw up as he watched you jerking against the hold of the chair. 

The short Troupe member had fantasized about hurting you a number of times, especially after Machi had accidentally let it slip about your masochist preferences. He had barely been able to keep his hand out of his pants for weeks after that, getting turned on every time he saw you. The number of times he had stood in front of your door in the middle of the night, wondering if he should just give in and fuck you, was almost ridiculous. But tying you to the bed, choking you until you cried, or whipping you until you were cumming everywhere was different from this. 

Feitan was literally shaking with fury, and he didn’t say a single word as he strode away, your screams still echoing behind him. 

“Where are you going?” Shalnark asked, but Feitan didn’t turn. 

“I get her back. Kill them.” 

No one stopped him. 

It didn’t take him long to track down where you were being kept. Chrollo had been keeping track of all the main syndicate bases, so it was just a matter of narrowing down which one the doomed heir would be using. The entire search took less than an hour, and then Feitan was headed down the hall, killing everyone in sight as he looked for you in the rooms. 

Teika was still talking to the camera when Feitan slammed into him--clearly he hadn’t expected to be found so easily. You were slumped in your chair, unconscious, and your arm was a bloody mess. 

Feitan was so angry that his Nen came almost instantly. “Pain packer,” he hissed, wrapping himself and you in powerful armour to protect against his attack. “Rising sun.”

The room erupted. 

-----

You woke as Feitan carried you through the molten hell that used to be the syndicate compound. All around you, you could hear the screams as people burned to death, but all you felt was a nice pleasant heat. 

“Fei?” You murmured, and you felt his arms tighten around you. 

“Here.” 

“I’m surprised you came,” you managed. 

“Tch.” He paused, and then he muttered, “I always come for you.” 

It wasn’t an apology, but you knew this was as close to one as he could handle. You relaxed against his chest. “Ok.” 

You closed your eyes, but you heard him from above you as he said, “Don’t walk away again.” 

It may have sounded blank and cold as always, but you could see the panic in his eyes at seeing you wounded. And by the heat of the sun around us, he had been utterly enraged that you’d been kidnapped. 

Perhaps you could forgive him after all. 

[parcai]

Why don't you like julian? /gen

i don't want 2 get super into it bc his stans are INSANE tbh. ppl who just like him r chill lol but some ppl r almost as obsessive as he is. i'm just gonna highlight a few points

slut shames shamelessly. many many examples but the one making my blood boil most rn is his comment abt tessa being "unfaithful" for meeting jem on blackfriar's bridge while married 2 will in that special edition. i stg he's always running his mouth abt shit he doesn't even know

possessiveness. many examples again. actually that's the case for everything here. i wouldn't judge a character based off one moment. one example: him getting all mad at mark for changing in emma's room when she wasn't even there lol they weren't even dating. fans always excuse this behavior 2 bc emma loves him but like lol...still doesn't make it okay bro

creepy. i enjoyed him more as a kid when he was just friends w emma but tbh even from then there was smth a little weird abt him. like for example the paintings he HIDES UM??? it'd b fine if he just hid a few bc he had a crush...not him having a whole studio hidden away w paintings (some nude) of emma...red flag.

"nice guy." there's a lot written abt him as a family man, but tbh there's only a handful of examples of that. (didn't know making pancakes 4 the fam one time singlehandedly solved sexism dhjkdshgkg) almost everything he does for his family he has 2 run by emma bc they're codependent as fuck. like him almost leaving the blackthorn manor behind if emma didn't want to? plus he's always trying 2 control the way his siblings act, which is especially problematic w autistic ty, but in general w everyone. he's only a few yrs older, and i get he helped raise them (supposedly) as a kid, but they're grown now so. dk who he thinks he is.

nice guy pt 2. ppl always praise him for being some revolutionary gender stereotype breaking guy but tbh all their examples r just julian being violent for some reason. it's not as progressive as u think it is.

highkey aggressive, just not in a typical way. he's always scaring emma (literally that's quoted a few times) + doesn't give a shit. always snapping abt kit herondale who has literally never done anything wrong ever + is just a kid in comparison to julian. that part when julian is like "you broke up w my brother in front of everyone! who is next, ty?" sir ty is like 15. always a dick to mark. i get it, u r angry he left u behind to take care of the kids. valid. he's holding onto this for too long, mark is trying, ur annoying me.

manipulative. not in a fun way. in a manipulating my gf and my friends and my fam. i love anti heroes. i can't get behind this shit tho. i need 2 root for the character first + i haven't gotten that yet. his over the top love confessions r kinda fucked up bc of how frequent they r. ur a child dude. i get that shadowhunters believe in marrying early + everything but it's just...it's uncomfortable the way he does it

SIDE NOTE: this is more anti fandom than anti julian blackthorn but it's weird as fuck the way y'all justify julian being the best love interest in tsc just bc he got laid in bk 1...um...

i think it's just sad 2 me in general. anyone who knows me knows i'm an absolute whore for morally grey characters. but that's the key--GREY. u need a good balance + u just don't find that in julian. he had a great premise... a soft painter who is absolutely ruthless for his family? excellent, beautiful, outstanding.

truth is, cassie's just labelled him morally grey 2 make teenage girls fall in love w him. if his face wasn't apparently attractive or whatever, i promise half of u wouldn't like him. the whole point of moral greyness is to do both good + bad but she, and thus the fandom, always lauds what a soft perfect boy he is, thus completely eradicating the point of moral greyness in the first place.

tldr: the fandom is so far up julian's ass that they can't admit he's extremely poorly written + thus probably highly unlikable irl

[themadlostgirl]

Treasure Hunt

*Some wholesome fun with a little Panlix tension to garnish*

~~~

We had new toys on the island. New to me anyway.

The Lost Boys and I crowded around the beach and stared out at the ship anchored on the horizon. Pirates.

Where they had come from or why there were here was a mystery to us. But one thing was for certain, they were certain to be fun. Peter ordered all of us back to camp while he spoke to the captain. Not that most of us listened anyway. We stuck around hiding at the entrance to the jungle to see what would happen.

A single rowboat came ashore with a trio of men. One was covered head to toe in tattoos, one was short and portly with a bright red hat, and the third I had to assume was the captain. He had a tall, dark, and dangerous look about him that I’m sure plenty of tavern wenches falling all over themselves.

“Holy shit,” the boy next to me muttered softly, gaze locked on the captain.

“Snap out of it, Teddy,” I slapped the back of his head, “What would Sanjit think if he saw you drooling over someone else?”

“I think he would understand.” Teddy shrugged, “Come on, even you have to admit the man looks great.”

“He looks good, I will give him that,” I peered closer, “Does he have a hook for a hand?”

“Nice,” Teddy grinned wider. I slapped him again.

Peter and the captain talked and argued before the captain and his men got back into their boat and left for their ship. Peter turned around and addressed us hiding in the trees. “You can come out now you disobedient tree stumps,”

Half of the boys fled at having been found out while the rest of us emerged. “So what brings them here?” I asked first.

“Youth and revenge, not the first time I’ve come across that salty sailor. Have to say, he has a lot more backbone as a pirate than he did when I first met him.” Peter said. “Captain Hook he calls himself now. Sounds much more fun than leftenant Jones.”

“Is the revenge he craves against you?” Felix asked. “I could see him blaming his brother’s death on you.”

“No. He’s upset about that for sure, but apparently the Dark One killed his lover and cut off his hand. That’s who he wants to get revenge against. Figured he would have more than enough time staying here while he concocted something. Idiot doesn’t even have a way back. It’s clear he didn’t think any of this through.” Peter scoffed with a smile. “His idiocy is our gain. Tell me, what do pirates always have?”

“Drinking problems?”

“Yes, but not what I was looking for.”

“Big hats.”

“No.”

“Terrible songs!”

“Treasure!” Peter snapped, “They have treasure!”

“Oh...that makes more sense.” I nodded. “What is treasure to us? Not like we have any shops to purchase things from using any of their shiny baubles.”

“True. But it means a great deal more to them.” Peter grinned. “Tomorrow morning, we’re gonna go on a treasure hunt.”

When we got back to camp those of us that stuck around informed the others about what had happened with Peter and the pirates. Many of them were excited about the idea of a treasure hunt. By the time dawn broke the camp was abuzz with anticipation.

“Morning everyone,” Peter greeted his camp, “Last night your fearless leader, me, snuck aboard the pirate’s ship and stole their chest of treasure right out from under their nose.” The camp whooped with cheer. Peter held up his hand to silence the boys. “I have now hidden it somewhere on the island. First person to find it is King for the day. That is...if any of you flopping codfish can find it.”

The boys jeered and raced off in all directions to find the treasure. I had started to run off with them when I remembered I didn’t have a weapon. Knowing the boys they would get violent and try to steal the treasure from one another when it was found. I needed something to defend myself with. I turned around to head back to the now abandoned camp.

I ducked into my tent to find a suitable weapon when I heard voices in the camp. I poked my head out and saw Felix and Peter were the only ones still around. I understood why Peter was still here but why was Felix?

“How long do you think they’ll be out searching for the treasure?” Felix asked Peter.

“They’ll search all day and probably into the night before giving up.” Peter laughed, “The whole time they’re digging around dark caves and in rotten tree trunks the chest is safely buried by the mermaid lagoon. None of them are going near there and even if they do none of them will think to start digging.”

“Maybe I should go dig it up then,” Felix said, “Let myself be crowned king for the day.”

“Now where is the fun in that? Let them struggle for a good while first.” Peter looked around the camp and I quickly closed the flap of my tent. I don’t think he would be too happy about my eavesdropping. “It’s nice to have some peace and quiet around here for once. The noise can get grating at times.”

“I understand that better than most,” Felix’s voice answered. “Even rarer that our Lost Girl isn’t hanging about. Seems she sticks around you more than usual.”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Felix?”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious and she’s a good friend.” Peter said. “I still cannot believe that you and those other idiots thought that we were interested in one another. As if I would actually even want to be with her.”

Okay. Ouch. And incorrect! He was the one that assumed that I was confessing my love to him the night I came out to him and said he was okay trying to have a romantic relationship with me. We agreed it wouldn’t work out between us after I told him I was gay but this was needless slander. Got to keep up appearances for the boys I suppose. Can’t let them know he actually considered me at some point. However brief it may have been.

“Not your type, huh?” Felix joked.

“No…” Peter said, “Has a lot of traits I do like. She’s straightforward, bloodthirsty, knows how to have fun, doesn’t take any of my shit, which is refreshing,”

“What are you talking about? I don’t take any of your bullshit either.” Felix said, his voice rising a tad.

“I know, Felix, that’s part of the reason I like you too.”

The camp was silent.

“You know, makes you a good friend too, a great second in command.” Peter continued after a beat.

“Good to know,” Felix sighed. “I’m going to refill my canteen.”

“Felix--”

“What?” Felix snapped at him. The harshness in his tone made even me freeze and it wasn’t even directed at me.

“Nothing…” Peter’s steps receded, “I’m going to go watch the boys run in circles.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Felix muttered before trudging off.

I waited a few more minutes before poking my head out to make sure the coast was clear. That was something. Those two have more issues than I thought. If they could get a nudge in the right direction--no! No! I am not getting myself involved in their problems.

I grabbed the sword I had come to retrieve and fled the camp. At the very least I know where the treasure is now! I ran towards the mermaid lagoon. It was deserted of Lost Boys but I could see the ripple in the water of the mermaids lurking right below the the surface, waiting and hoping I would venture closer so they could pull me down and drown me. I only made that mistake once when I was very new on the island. They were very pretty and I thought maybe they would be friendly towards a girl. I was soon proven how very wrong I was when one of them pulled me under the water and the Lost Boys had to come in and rescue me before I drowned.

Scanning the sand I found a patch that looked like it had been pretty recently disturbed. I started digging with my hands until I felt the solid weight of wood. I dug around it until the very top was uncovered. How was I supposed to get it out by myself? It was firmly stuck in the ground and getting it free by myself would be near impossible.

Maybe I could just grab something to prove that I had found it and cover it back up. I dug my hand down into the sand for the latch and pried it open. Inside laid a wealth of gold coins, gems, jewelry, and other shiny baubles. I stuffed a handful of coins and gems in my pocket and slid a pair of shining, jewel encrusted bracelets onto my wrists. That should be enough. I closed the lid and covered the chest once more. I decided to mess with the boys while waiting for it to grow later and dropped random coins and jewels around the jungle so they would think they were heading in the right direction.

By the time night fell the boys had returned to camp despondent. Some holding up the coins and jewels I had strewn about with a small amount of disdain. Peter was back to his jovial self but looked confused at the boys holding coins. Surely he hadn’t let anything fall out when he stole the chest.

That was my cue. I strolled into the middle of the camp and raised my glittering wrists to the sky. “Bow before your queen!”

“What?” Peter gaped at me. “There’s no way you found the chest!”

“Oh but I did,” I dug into my pockets and tossed the remaining coins I had onto the ground. “That chest was so big and heavy though I couldn’t take the whole thing myself but I think this is sufficient enough evidence.”

“Wait, were you the one leaving coins and jewels all over the island?” one of the boys pointed at me, accusingly.

“Duh,” I rolled my eyes, “I needed to have my own fun.”

“Never let it be said that I’m not a man of my word,” Peter gave an exaggerated bow, “Our dear Lost Girl shall be Queen for the day...or at least for the rest of the night.”

Some of the boys cheered, a lot more of the jealous boys booed. I didn’t care. I basked in the attention and laughed with the others at the silly antics the boys did to entertain their “queen” like court jesters. It was all in good fun, Peter even fashioned me a crown of sticks and leaves.

I pulled him over to dance with me. “So,” I spoke up to be heard over the pounding music, “How long till the pirates find out you stole their treasure and come to hunt us down for taking it?”

“Who knows,” Peter shrugged, “it’s sure to be fun though.”

I laughed along with him as the night grew late and my night of queendom came to an end. The game would begin again tomorrow but with the chest in a new spot. Looks as if I’ll actually have to hunt for it this time. Not a problem, I liked a good challenge.

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Secret’s Out || Oliver Wood

Character: Oliver Wood

Word Count: 3.2k

Requested: Yes @jensenslight​

Summary: After a few drinks too many at a party, you end up drunkenly confessing your feelings to Oliver Wood.

Warnings: Underage drinking, mentions of sex, swearing

Disclaimer: I did not make this gif, credit to the creative person who did

A/N: Holy crap, 9 freakin pages. I never expected it to get that long but it was honestly so much to fun write. Let me know what you think, your comments always make my day and keep me encouraged to continue writing <3

Please do not copy or steal my work. Reblogs are just fine :)

You laughed loudly with your friends, pushing through the crowd of students after the quidditch match. Thousands of footsteps thundered down the stairs of the stadium, the air filled with shouts of excitement and frustrated groans at the results of the game.

Gryfindor had won 230-110, crushing Slytherin and deflating their heads after the way they had pummeled the red and gold the year before. You stepped out of the stadium and almost instantly deviated away from where the rest of the mob was moving towards Hogwarts. Instead, you made your way towards the locker rooms, waiting for your friends Alicia and Angelina to come out. 

The locker room opened with a bang and you instantly stepped forward, ready to congratulate the girls, but instead found yourself face to face with Oliver Wood. 

He took a step back in surprise. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, sending you a small smile. “Waiting for Spinnet and Johnson?”

Involuntarily your heart raced and your cheeks burned red. “Uh hi,” you replied back awkwardly, “and uh yes, y-yes I am.” 

You wanted to slap yourself. Why did you always have to clam up around him? Why couldn’t you just speak like a normal person?

Oliver shot you an odd look, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Game good- I-I mean good game,” you quickly stuttered, your cheeks only darkening more. “You played well.”

His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Thanks,” he said, a slight spark of amusement in his eyes. “You going to the party later?”

You nodded, deciding that it would be safest if you didn’t speak around him. 

Whenever Gryfindor won there was almost always a wild party in the common room to follow. But the ones after Slytherin were always the biggest, loudest, and had the most alcohol. With your best friends being on the team, you never missed out on the after parties.

“Well I’m going to head up and shower,” Oliver said, running a hand through his hair.

You tried to keep yourself composed but couldn’t help but stare gawkingly at the way his muscles tightened against his shirt, which was slightly damp and see through with sweat. Oh how you wished you could be the one running your fingers through his air, kissing the lips that were turned up in a slight smile. You wanted him so bad, yet he could never know. You could never tell him the secret that you had been in love with him for the past three years. Only Alicia and Angelina could ever know that.

“I’ll see you later then Y/N,” Oliver said with a slight wave, before turning and heading up towards the castle, leaving you flustered, red faced, and heart racing, leaning beside the locker room door.

You watched him go, so drawn up in your fantasies and daydreams that you didn’t notice the locker room door open once more with Alicia and Angelina loudly stepping out. They on the other hand noticed you instantly, shooting each other a knowing look when they saw the direction in which you were staring.

“Did you two have a nice chat?” Angelina asked, causing you to jump violently.

“Merlin Ang, you scared me,” you said, placing a hand over your racing heart. “I didn’t even notice you two come out.”

Alicia threw a look in the direction Oliver had gone. “I wonder why,” she teased. 

“Oh him?” you asked, a bad attempt to feign disinterest.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N,” Angelina said, rolling her eyes. “Your face looks like a tomato and when we came out you were all but drooling over him.”

“I was not!” You defended.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, fine, maybe just a little,” you conceded.

“Or a lot,” Alicia muttered, laughing loudly as she dodged your shove.

“Shut up Spinnet,” you grumbled, knowing she never would.

“If you would just get the guts to talk to him…” Angelina tried.

“You know I can’t do that, Ang,” you said, the three of you beginning to walk back towards the castle. “I clam up and can barely form words when I’m around him.”

“We know,” they both said, having had to jump in for you and talk their way out of many awkward conversations with Oliver.

“Then you know why I can’t talk to him,” you said in exasperation.

“But what if he likes you back?” Alicia asked, “you’ll never know if you don’t woman up and speak with him.”

“Alicia,” you said pointedly, “he only ever sees me when I’m stuttering, red faced, and can barely form a sentence.”

She shrugged. “True, but stranger things have happened.”

~

Oliver stepped into the common room a half hour later to loud cheers and music. It seemed the entire school was there, somehow managing to fit into the small space.

Lights were flashing, music was pounding, and Oliver really hoped the quieting charms they had but on the walls of the room were working or they were sure to be busted.

Someone ran by him and he stretched out his arm to block them. He looked down at the third year, her hand clenching a red solo cup filled with whatever crazy alcohol concoction Fred and George had whipped up.

“I think you're a bit under aged,” Oliver said, plucking the drink from her hand.

Her eyes narrowed. “So are you,” she snapped back.

Oliver gave a slight nod of agreement. “Excellent point, but that sign over there says fifth years and above, and last I checked you don’t seem to reach those requirements.”

“Well I don’t give a fuck,” she spat, stamping her foot. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he sighed. “Head on up stairs before a prefect finds you. In a couple of years you can make your own rules.”

She sent him a rather rude gesture, before storming up the stairs. Oliver didn’t doubt she would try to sneak back down in a few minutes.

Angelina raised her eyebrows as a girl angrily shoved past her on the stairs. She looked out, noting Oliver standing there, rubbing his forehead with a sigh.

“Ruining the fun for someone already, Wood?” Angelina asked, plucking the drink from his hand and taking a sip.

Oliver turned, noting you and Alicia were a few steps behind her.

“It was a third year,” he said in exasperation.

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “You let us in back then.”

“Because you were on the team,” Oliver argued, “and like the deal we made with Potter, you weren’t supposed to drink.”

“As if we ever listened to that,” Angelina scoffed.

She took another sip from the drink. “Damn, the Weasley’s really out did themselves this time.”

“Y/N, Alicia, wanna go get a drink?” Angelina asked.

“Sure, why not,” you said, as Alicia nodded beside you.

The three girls stepped past Oliver, with you shooting him a small smile. He smiled back, causing your cheeks to flush red. Oliver noted that with a slight grin. He always found it cute when you blushed.

You reached the makeshift bar with Alicia and Angelina. Alicia, never one for drinking, grabbed a butterbear whilst you Angelina went straight for Fred and George’s jungle juice.

“You’re right Ang, it’s not bad,” you said, taking a sip. “Definitely better than that one they made after the Hufflepuff match.”

Angelina laughed. “That one was horrible! I swear I vomited all night.”

“All night?” you snorted. “You kept at it in McGonagall’s class the next day. I’ve never seen her so mad.”

You finished the rest of your drink and refilled. “Let’s dance Ang.”

Alicia sighed, she was always the one that had to chase after you two all night. Just a couple weeks ago she had to prevent Angelina from stripping, much to Fred’s dismay, when she got particularly drunk one night. She watched as the two of you ran out onto the small makeshift dance floor, swinging your hips and laughing loudly.

Almost an hour later Alicia began to notice the alcohol set in. She grabbed Angelina’s arm, preventing her from falling into the bar as she came over to refill her solo cup.

“I think that’s plenty, Ang,” she chidded, steadying her friend on her feat.

Angelina stuck out her lower lip. “Just one more?”

Alicia gave her a pointed look. “You’re drunk.”

“I know but I really really really really want to make out with Fred but I need another drink to do that.” She argued drunkenly, before bursting out in spontaneous giggles.

“Angelina…” Alicia tried halfheartedly.

“One more mom-” she let out another string of giggles- “just on more.”

Angelina reached an arm over Alicia’s shoulder, her now terrible balance almost sending them both tumbling into the bar, and grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Alica, make sure-” Angelina paused, gripping her friend's shoulders as she swayed from side to side. “-that if we end up have sex it’s not in front of too many people, okay?” She broke into another round of giggles, before hobbling back towards the dance floor.

Oliver watched from a few yards away, silently shaking his head at how bad his players looked right now. Both the twins were beyond wasted, and Katie Bell had passed out a few minutes ago. Even Harry, who Oliver had thought would be somewhat smart, had been convinced by the twins to take shots, and after a few cringes, had eventually gotten himself just as drunk as everyone else. Oliver almost had sympathy for him, as he wouldn’t want to be in his shoes when Hermione discovered him hung over the next day.

Oliver sighed, taking a sip from his butterbeer. Like Alicia, he didn’t drink.

Oliver heard a loud catcall from the other side of the room and turned back towards the dance floor where Angelina and Fred were kissing aggressively, seeming to almost be sucking each other’s faces off. He heard Alicia let out a groan.

Upon realizing he hadn’t seen the third musketeer in a while, he scanned the room, silently hoping you hadn’t taken after Angelina and were swapping spit with another guy.

Fortunately that wasn’t the case, and he instead found you stumbling back towards the bar, clearly struggling to stay up right.

You turned, feeling eyes on you. Your heart began to race upon noticing that Oliver was staringing at you. Changing course, you instead stumbled towards him, your brain not entirely aware what you were doing.

“Hi Oliver,” you slurred, “I haven't seen you since I got here.” 

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Were you looking?”

You giggled loudly. “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t,” you said coyly, poking his cheek.

Oliver’s eyebrow shot up in surprise by how forward you were.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked, eyeing you in concern.

“More than okay!” you exclaimed drunkenly. “I’m talking like a normal person. Did you notice?”

You are beyond drunk, Oliver thought, but if he was honest with himself he did think your overly bubbly personality was rather cute. He did miss the constant blush you usually had though.

“I did notice,” he said, trying to bite back a smile.

“Good, because I’m not usually like that, it's just when you-” You swayed violently, causing Oliver to reach out and steady you. “It’s just when you’re around.” You finished, taking another sip from your drink.

Now this had caught Oliver’s attention and, as bad as he felt about taking advantage of your drunken state, he asked, “Is that so?”

You nodded vigorously. “Believe it or not I’ve been in love with you since Angelina and Alicia joined the quidditch team, I just never had the guts to tell you.” You laughed loudly as if the action of spilling your deepest darkest secret was actually humorous. 

That was a lot more than Oliver had expected. “In love with me?” He managed to gulp out.

“Yeah,” you said, resting a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. “Angelina said today that I should talk to you, guess she was right.”

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. “Clearly you have had way too much to drink,” he said.

“Don’t worry about me, I have a high alcohol tolerance,” you slurred proudly.

You swayed on your feet, stumbling to catch your balance. Oliver quickly reached out to stable you, holding tightly to your hips.

“High tolerance my ass,” he muttered, deciding that he better get you sat down before you actually fell over.

You let him guide you to a chair, enjoying the feeling of his hand on the small of your back and the tingling sensation that came with it.

“See, I’m fine,” you stated, sitting up right in the chair. You took a long sip from your drink and toppled sideways, giggling madly.

Oliver lunged over to catch you. Propping you upright, he took the cup from your hand. “You are definitely done here,” he said, a light smile playing on his lips.

You stuck out your bottom lip. “Party pooper,” you pouted, “why did I have to fall in love with someone who ruins all the fun?”

He stared at you, the girl who had just confessed twice, without really knowing it, that she was in love with him. You were always the cute girl, the friend of Angelina and Alicia, the one who always seemed to be red faced and unable to speak without a stutter. How had he never seen it before? How had he been so oblivious? The way you looked at him now, lips pouted, eyes feigning sadness, he wanted to kiss you so badly.

“Are you okay Oli?” you ask, reaching out to touch his cheek.

Your words brought him back. “Oli?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“It’s cute,” you said, grinning proudly, “cute like you.” You poked his nose, but in the action of moving forward fell straight into his chest.

Oliver let out a chuckle, pushing you back into the chair. You gripped his arms for support.

“Damn,” you whispered, feeling his tightened biceps under your hands. 

Oliver looked down at where you were staring and couldn’t help but smile. He looked back up at your face. “You good?” he asked, once he made sure you wouldn’t fall over again.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “but…”

“But..?” Oliver prompted.

“But I really want to kiss you.”

Oliver took a small step back. If he had had any alcohol in his system that would have definitely sobered him up. 

He looked at you, the way your eyes were so hopeful. But he also knew you were drunk, and as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t do anything with you. At least not until you were sober.

“Let’s rain check that, Y/N, okay?” he finally said. “Wait until you’ll at least remember it happened.”

~

You woke up the following morning to a pounding headache and sudden need to vomit. After you came out of the bathroom you finally noticed Alicia, who was fixing her hair in the mirror.

“Where’s Ang?” you yawned flopping back onto your bed and trying to shield your eyes from the light. Everything was so bright.

“With Fred,” she replied simply.

“You didn’t stop her?” You asked, surprised. Alicia was usually the one to keep you two from doing anything stupid.

Alicia shook her head. “She told me not to, plus I was too busy watching you.”

You groaned. “Please don’t tell me I tried to give Jordan a lap dance again.

“Fortunately not,” Alicia giggled, before simply saying, “You were talking to Oliver.”

You shot up right then grabbed your head. Your pounding headache did not like the quick movement. “I did what?!” you exclaimed.

Alicia smiled. “It wasn’t that terrible. He even carried you up here afterwards for me.”

You looked down at your pajamas. You had not been wearing those last night.

Alicia knew what you were thinking. “Don’t worry, I put you in those after he left. I think the shirt you were wearing though is ruined, it had the jungle juice of Fred and George’s spilled all over it.”

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” you cursed, though you weren’t upset over the shirt. “Please don’t tell me I said anything bad to him.”

Alicia sighed. “Promise me you won’t freak out?”

“Oh Merlin,” you groaned, “don’t tell me I did it.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, “you kinda spilled the beans.”

“I could barely even talk to him before, now I can’t even be in the same room as him,” you moaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Why didn’t you stop me Alicia?”

“I was going to Y/N, believe me I was, but the way he was looking at you, caring for you, I knew he had to know, and there was no way you would have told him in any other way,” she sadly.

You turned to Alicia, wanting to be angry with her, but her sincere expression, the hope in her eyes, you couldn’t be mad at her for that.

“Cross your fingers your right,” you said quietly.

~

You stepped into the common room shortly after, a pair of sunglasses perched on your nose.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You jumped violently before turning with a feeling of dread to face Oliver.

“Hi Oliver,” you said quietly, falling into step beside him as he walked towards the portrait hole.

“No Oli?” he joked, letting you step through first before following you out into the corridor.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked.

Oliver shook his head with a smile. “Nevermind.”

You sighed. “I called you that last night, right?”

His face lit up in hope. “You remember?”

You shook your head. “Alicia filled me in this morning,” you said, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

It occurred to you then that that was the first time your face had turned red since being in close contact with Oliver. You hadn’t even stuttered once. Why that was the case, you didn’t know. 

“About that…” he said, trailing off, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You don’t feel that way? I know, it’s okay,” you said, shaking your head at the sheer awkwardness of the conversation. “I’ll get over it. Like Alicia said, at least you know.”

“Well, that’s the thing, I- I do.” 

That last part came out real quiet and you turned to him, eyebrows shot up in surprise, heart suddenly racing. “You do what?” you whispered in disbelief.

Oliver looked down at his shoes. “I do like you, Y/N,” he said quietly, “and have for some time.”

“Even when I can’t talk straight around you and was a drunk babbling idiot last night?”

His lips quirked up in a smile. “The babbling idiot part was actually rather entertaining for that matter.”

You stared at him, hope swelling in your chest as you looked at the boy you were madly in love with.

“You told me last night you wanted to kiss me,” he started, and your face turned red as the memory came back to you. “And I said-”

“Raincheck,” you finished, your heart rate quickening. “Such a gentleman to do that.”

Oliver took a step closer. “I’d like to cash that in now,” he whispered softly.

“Please do,” you breathed, looking up at him as he moved closer.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he gently pressed his lips against yours, his hands resting on your waist whilst yours looped around his neck.

This kiss was a thousand times better than you had ever imagined. You barely even heard George’s wolf whistle when he walked by, or when Angelina turned to Fred with a grin, saying, “That’s five Galleons, Weasley.” It was just you two, in the middle of the hall, and Oliver’s mouth moving against yours was all that mattered.