#I house sat for two weeks for this professor and it was the most stressful and intensive dog sitting I’ve ever done

[prozach27]

.

[loversj0y]

saving face

pairing: siren x gn!reader (villain wilbur soot from tommyinnits clinic for supervillains)

tws: okay so, im going to be REALLY thorough because there is some dark content throughout so kidnapping, chloroform use, drug use (power enhancers), reader gets called sweetheart at one point, violence, injuries, torture, major head injuries, alcohol, alcohol is poured on reader, mental manipulation (attempts at it), blood, broken nose, siren tells someone to claw their eye out, mentions of a fractured skull and concussion

notes: big major thank u to @medlarwrites for this idea!!!! ive been obsessing over siren since i read clinic and had to write something abt him. im not in love with the start of the fic bc i had a very different direction at first but!!! dont care i like how it ended up!! so :3

medlars original prompt: “anyways lemme leave you a siren!wilbur who finds our his bestfriend from college got kidnapped because they suspect she's associated with siren and so want to get information about his identity from them :)”

word count: 5.5k!

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone

When you were in college, you had a rather… peculiar best friend. Maybe you should’ve cared a bit more about the moral consequences of what he did, but honestly, it was college. Your best friend was one of the most well-known supervillains, Siren.

That wasn’t how you met him, though. You met him as Wilbur Soot, the guy who sat next to you in your Literature class, who often forgot his pens. You had a small crush on him, so you made a habit of always bringing an extra pen for him. You became quick friends after, bonding over mutual hatred for the professor’s teaching style, as well as sharing an onslaught of opinions.

You didn’t mean to find out about his identity, it was a complete accident. You and him had this mutual agreement that if something was going on (life troubles, finals stress, etc.), you have free permission to come over for some company. If the other person wasn’t there, you would just wait until they got home. It was a good system that kept both of you from getting too lonely, especially you. He lived at home, but you lived in a dodgy apartment by yourself. He would always make an effort to show up any time he had anything he wanted to talk about, mostly to keep you from feeling too alone. One night, the loneliness had gotten pretty rough, so you decided to go to Wilbur’s house. You two had given each other spare keys a long while back, and it wasn’t the first time you’d done this, so you were quick to unlock the door and head into his room to wait for him to come home. When the door did finally open, it wasn’t Wilbur who walked through.

You immediately jumped, backing up a bit as you saw Siren walk in. Once he’d processed that you were there, he cursed under his breath, trying to console you while quickly pulling off his blindfold. You watched as he went from Siren to Wilbur in a matter of seconds, your head swirling with confusion. You two had a very long conversation that night, while you helped him clean up a scratch along his arm.

After college, you didn’t see Wilbur as much anymore. You worked a lot, and he worked quite a bit too. You two still saw each other, just not as often.

You saw Siren much more often, though. Since Wilbur knew where your walk home from work was, he would always make an effort to be there and walk you home at night once a week if he could. Sometimes he would only watch you from the rooftops, other times when it was a bit darker and there were fewer people out, he would walk with you, chatting about anything he could think of. Over time, what once had been a small crush blossomed into genuine love for your best friend.

It was nice, a really good system. Kept you and him talking, even when your busy schedules tended to keep you from each other. However, for as good of a system as it is, it also had some apparent downsides.

Like your current situation.

You didn’t know exactly where you were.

The last thing you remembered was leaving work. You locked up the small bookstore you worked at and began your walk home when you felt a hand wrap around you, pressing a cloth against your mouth. Whoever it was ended up being too strong for you to fight against, and it was only a few minutes before the chloroform reached your brain, knocking you out quickly. In terms of kidnappings, it was fairly tame, at the very least.

It took a while to wake up, your consciousness floating in and out a few times, allowing you to get small glimpses of conversations.

“Try and get ‘em to talk. Just being friends with Siren doesn’t mean they’re strong. We can break them, even if it takes some… stepping in.”

A bit of a horrifying thing to hear post-kidnapping, but even if it wasn’t on purpose, it at least got your guard up a bit.

When you woke up, you spent a few minutes looking around and familiarising yourself with your surroundings. You were in some shitty warehouse. Which, honestly, cliche, and how many abandoned warehouses did this city have? Large, brown-stained windows lined the top of the walls, allowing for a bit of light to pour in. There were garage-type doors every few feet, but most of them had large padlocks, except for one the furthest away from you.

Your hands and feet were tied onto the chair, one hand behind handcuffed while the other hand and your legs were attached with zip ties.

Escape was not going to be easy, but you knew a bit of fighting, Wilbur having taught you how to protect yourself. You finally looked over to the middle of the room.

It took you a while to recognize the guy who’d kidnapped you. You did know him, though, only because of the things that Siren had told you. Schlatt, previously known as Gunmetal, an ex-hero. His power was the ability to strengthen his body to a metal-like level, making him incredibly hard to take down. The Syndicate considered approaching him for membership, but he was… unstable. He got discharged by the Hero Committee after his increased strength led to the destruction of an apartment building. There weren’t any villains around to pin it on, either, and there were too many witnesses. It had also been discovered that he’d been utilizing power enhancers, which were supposed to be outlawed, in order to extend his abilities and allow him to strengthen multiple parts of his body at once.

If what Wilbur had told you in his frustrated rants was true, Schlatt wanted to take over the Syndicate. He’d attacked them numerous times, always aiming to kill, and he’d taken a particular interest in finding out Siren’s identity.

You sat up a bit, preparing yourself for whatever bullshit he was about to spew at you.

Wilbur caught onto something being wrong a few hours after you’d been taken. He had gone on a minor heist with Techno, and things ran… suspiciously well. No hero intervention for the majority of the heist, until Flame showed up towards the end. Blade handled most of the fighting for him, while Siren took care of their escape. It was when they finally escaped that he noticed something odd. He and Techno passed by your apartment, and he knew your habits well enough to know that you would not be asleep this early. Despite that, the lights in your apartment were off. A bit of searching later, and he was quick to notice your disappearance. When he arrived back home, he was quick to enlist Tubbo to see if they could get a ping on your last known location. Your phone wasn’t anywhere to be found, so he hoped he could at least figure out where you had been. Normally, he would pace to try and distract himself, but when it came to you, there was no use. He immediately headed out, trying to find any sign of you and waiting for a response from Tubbo.

“Good mornin’ sweetheart,” Schlatt chuckled, standing in front of a table in front of your chair. He had two briefcases set out in front of him, “Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” There was an implied ‘yet’ at the end of that sentence. You got a good look at him. He wore a pressed suit, and an airsoft mask – equipped specially with two ram horns on the sides, his signature look. His knuckles were wrapped with red athletic tape, at least you’d hoped it was originally red.

“Then what the fuck do you want with me? It’s hard to believe you aren’t going to hurt me when you kidnapped me off the street.”

“I just need a bit of information, that’s all.”

You scoffed, “Really? So you just fucking kidnap me?”

“It’s effective, is it not?” He chuckled, leaning forward, “Do you have any powers?”

You rolled your eyes, “Cut the shitty small talk. Why am I here?”

“To answer my fucking questions.”

You looked down at your arm, noting a small cuff wrapped around it, “If I tell you, will you take the stupid power dampener off?”

He snorted, “Don’t act dumb.”

“Oh, good, then I’m not telling you.” You did have a power. It was part of why Wilbur felt comfortable being around you. You were also a mind manipulator, but you couldn’t get people to actually do things for you. You could just easily see through their words and arguments. Which meant that you could get them to believe you were telling the truth as well, which would be a bloody good thing to be able to utilize right about now.

“Fine, be like that.” He held up a photo, “So, if you won’t tell me your power, maybe you’ll tell me why Siren has had such a close eye on you?” You looked at the photo closer, being able to clearly make out Siren walking you home.

“He’s just a nice dude. Wants to walk me home sometimes,” you shrugged, trying to act nonchalantly, “I don’t know much about him if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He snorted, “Yeah, like I’d believe that.” He pulled out a folder, spreading out numerous photos of you and Siren, hanging out and eating together in your apartment.

“Have you been fucking stalking me, you absolute creep?”

“Not you, but Siren. You just happened to be there. And I wanna know why.”

“What? You’re mad that a citizen can show compassion to a villain?” You scoffed, “Boo-hoo, poor Schlatt, must be such a sad life you have.”

He growled, and you grinned at how easy it was to get under his skin, even without your power. “I couldn’t give less of a shit about that. I want to know why he’s trying to recruit new Syndicate members.”

You laughed, “God, you could not have worse of a grasp on the situation. He’s just a nice guy. Came to my bookstore once, offered to walk me home, and we became friends. Is it impossible for villains to have friends?”

“Supervillains don’t have friends. Not without an agenda.”

“What about their healer? He’s a friend, isn’t he?”

“He works for them. He doesn’t count.”

“Well, I clearly don’t work for them. So just leave me alone, why don’t you?”

“Okay, I will let you go. If you tell me one thing.”

Oh, here came the stupid request. “Oh? Let me guess? You want me to tell you Siren’s real name.”

“Obviously.”

“Do you really think he’s that stupid? To let a random civilian he met know his name?”

“No. But I know you’re not just a random civilian he met. Because these photos date back years.”

You tensed a bit, trying to hide any clear facial reaction, “And?”

“And, no one who doesn’t work with him would stick around that long, unless there was something keeping them there. So, you obviously know who he is.”

“Oh, obviously?” You tried to will down the blush on your cheeks. “Is it really that obvious? You don’t know anything about me, and you clearly don’t know anything about Siren.”

“So tell me what I don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not falling for that, dipshit. If you want information on Siren, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“Yeah, except that can’t be true. I know you have a power you’ve been hiding, and we know that Siren has spent a highly significant amount of time with you, longer than he ever did their healer. And, we have photos of you with him and other Syndicate members at your apartment. So we know you know his identity. But we can figure out other ways to make you talk.”

“Wow, so you’re adding misuse of power against a civilian to your list of crimes? That combined with the kidnapping, not to mention the murder and the numerous times you’ve hurt civilians and destroyed their homes, oh and getting discharged as a Hero?”

That got under his skin, “I have no problem adding torture onto that list.”

“So much for being a hero then.”

His fists curled up, and he slammed it down on the table, “ex-hero, for a reason.” He walked closer, crouching down to be eye-level with you. “So then, you’re really trying to tell me that the numerous dates you’ve gone on with Siren just don’t mean anything?”

“We- They weren’t dates!” Your face flushed dark red, “We’re just friends!” You blatantly tried to ignore the fact that you’d been in love with him for years.

“Your face is telling a different story,” he smirked, “Is he hot under the mask? Or maybe you just like a man with power?”

You moved back from his hand, jaw tensing, as he tried to cup your jaw, “Hm, well, if you aren’t saying anything willingly, I can make you talk.”

He stood again, walking over to the second briefcase, opening it to where you couldn’t see the contents. You didn’t know if you wanted to. “Plus, this is all just a distraction.” He lifted your phone, turning it on, “They’ll be here soon enough. I won’t need you then, I can take down the Syndicate myself.”

A shiver went down your spine, and you prayed that Wilbur hadn’t noticed your absence.

Tubbo was able to find you pretty quickly. Just when he’d thought your phone was too far for a proper ping, he got one with an exact location that he quickly relayed to Siren. Siren was on it almost immediately, but he wasn’t going in alone. He didn’t know who took you, so he was going to be prepared. By enlisting most of the Syndicate to join him. He made it to the location first, but he knew better than to jump in early, especially since he was one of the least physical fighters. He did some surveying, though, spotting a few guards in suits. Suits were the tell of Schlatt, and he mentally cursed the team members for not getting there as fast as he’d wished. He knew Schlatt could be violent, unpredictable, and hot-headed.

The rest of the Syndicate arrived, and Nemesis and Thanatos made quick work of taking down the guards. Which meant it was time to take down Schlatt.

You’d lost track of time. Schlatt had some interesting methods for getting you to talk. Most of them involve hitting you, his ability making it easy to hurt you, if the broken nose and cut lip were anything to go by. But a lot of it was mental. Using taunting words to try and get under your skin.

“It’s going to be so funny when you’re little boyfriend comes here,” he snickered, grabbing your jaw to make you look up at him, “It’ll be even better to make you watch him die.”

He almost seemed drunk the more and more he continued, “Or, maybe, I could hurt him more. Make him watch me kill you slowly. Or,” he chuckled, but the laughter quickly turned maniacal, “I’ll let him kill you. I’ll make him use that shitty fucking voice of his to kill you.”

You snorted, and he raised an eyebrow, “Something about that funny to you?”

You looked up at him, spitting blood out of your mouth, “His voice is real nice, actually. Much better than yours.” You were playing with fire, but you needed to buy time to get him hopefully exhausted enough to give you a chance to escape.

He smacked you, a loud crack reverberating and echoing throughout the warehouse.

“You piece of shit,” he rolled his eyes, moving away from you. He grabbed a water bottle, downing half of it easily. You watched cautiously, becoming all too aware of how thirsty you were.

“What? You want some or something?” He chuckled, walking back over to you, “Be my fucking guest,” he poured the water over your head. You tilted your head back and drank some of it down. Once you’d gotten some of it in your mouth, though, you quickly realized that it was not, in fact, water but instead vodka. You coughed once you realized, spitting out as much as you could.

He laughed as you hissed in pain, the alcohol stinging the wounds he’d left. He went to throw another retort at you, but before he could, the door slammed open.

Just as Schlatt predicted, the entire Syndicate was there. You sat up, watching as Schlatt moved back to his briefcase and pull out a syringe.

“Siren, run!” You yelled, thrashing and trying to draw attention to yourself, “All of you! Run! It’s a trap-”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence as Schlatt stormed over, grabbing you by the hair. “Oh, Jesus, just shut up with your whining,” he rolled his eyes, hitting your temple harshly, sending the chair to the ground and you with it. The ground rushed up to meet you, and the darkness of unconsciousness was quick to follow.

Siren was pissed. Blade quickly began to advance on Schlatt, but Wilbur was faster. It was stupid, he knew he was being stupid to rush in like this, but he was angry. He watched as Schlatt quickly injected himself with something, some odd shimmering yellow liquid, and in seconds, his body started glowing the same yellow. Power enhancers, Wilbur’s mind supplied. He cursed, hanging back to allow Blade to hit first. Zephyrus flew overhead, getting behind Schlatt to prevent him from running. As much as Wilbur wanted to fight, he needed to make sure you were okay.

He rushed over, grabbing a knife from the table that he prayed hadn’t been used on you. The first thing he did when he approached you was check your pulse, thanking anything that would listen that your pulse was still coming through. He cut the ties easily, then he moved onto the power dampener, trying to pry the thing off. He had no clue where the key for it was, but he didn’t have time to waste looking for it. He started breaking it off when he was tugged back, Schlatt having grabbed the back of his collar. He slammed Siren against the wall, grinning at him.

“For a world-class supervillain, you’d think you’d be smarter,” he chuckled, leaning his knee against Siren’s back and pinning him there. He pushed all of his power into his knee, strengthening and solidifying the metal against Wilbur’s back. “You know how easy it was for me to track them down? You made them an easy target, Siren. You’re the reason they’re here,” he pushed his knee further into his back.

“Let me go,” Siren ordered but to no avail.

Schlatt started laughing louder, “What, you think I’m an idiot? You thought I wouldn’t prepare my mask for you?”

Fuck.

Siren didn’t have to fret much longer, though. Blade came up behind Schlatt, driving a sword through his shoulder. He’d put too much power into his knee, leaving the rest of him vulnerable.

The rest of the takedown was easy. They were planning on taking Schlatt in, hopefully, to use as a bargaining chip against the Hero Committee since he was wanted by them. Once Zephyrus had him subdued, Nemesis and Thanatos grabbed his things and started heading back. Siren lingered with Zephyrus, Jester, Blade, and Ender (who’d only shown up to help take anyone who needed healing to Apollo). Siren walked over, ripping Schlatt’s mask off.

Schlatt was still spilling curses and threats against them, but he’d quieted for a moment as Wilbur pulled his mask off, eyes adjusting to the light. Wilbur threw the mask behind him, and a sinister grin spread over his face.

“We need him alive, Siren,” Blade reminded him.

He groaned, huffing softly, “Fine.” He hummed, tilting his head.

“Claw your left eye out, then knock yourself out.”

Wilbur didn’t stay to watch the aftermath, but he heard the groans and screams of pain from Schlatt as he walked back over to you. Ender was waiting next to you, double-checking for any serious wounds.

Wilbur got the rest of the power dampener off, throwing it to the side. He carefully lifted you, making sure to be mindful of your head.

Ender gave him a concerned look, "It looks bad, but they should be okay."

“No, not should be.” Siren snapped his head towards Ender, shaking his head, “I need them to be okay. Bring us to Apollo.”

Ender nodded, placing a hand on Siren’s shoulder. In seconds, they disappeared in a flurry of purple particles, appearing now in Apollo’s clinic in the Syndicate building.

Tommy was sitting by the desk, playing on his DS. He perked up quickly when he heard Ender teleport in, looking up and seeing Siren cradling you. Siren moved forward, placing you down on the doctor’s mat in the center of the room.

Tommy quickly walked over, “Jesus, man, what the fuck happened?” He placed his hands near your head, warmth emitting over them as he began healing you.

“Schlatt happened. But he won’t be a problem anymore,” Wilbur huffed, tearing off his blindfold and coat, draping them over a chair. He paced around the room as Tommy worked on healing.

“You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” Tommy huffed.

“I couldn’t care less, Toms. They weren’t supposed to be involved with any of this, I’ve fucked it up again, I-I put them in danger,” Wilbur ran a hand through his hair.

Tommy straightened, pulling his hands away as he finished healing, “Don’t start with your self-deprecating shit, man. They know you’re Siren. They’ve stuck around, and they always knew this could happen. You’re not to blame.”

“But I-”

“You weren’t the one who kidnapped them. It’s not your fault,” Tommy sighed, grabbing a glass of water.

Wilbur nodded, walking up to you, still unconscious, “They- they’ll be fine, right? They’ll be okay?”

Tommy took a sip of his water, nodding, “Yeah. Head injury was the worst of it, but it should be all healed up now. They might be a bit foggy when they wake up, though.”

“When will they wake up?”

Tommy shrugged, “Should be soon. Probably an hour or two. Can’t give you an exact time. You should get them somewhere more comfortable before they’re up, though.”

Wilbur nodded, carefully picking you back up, “Thanks, Tommy.”

“You don’t have to thank me, man, it’s my job.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “I want to thank you, dickhead. Now, go to sleep, child.”

“I am n-” Wilbur cut off Tommy’s response by closing the door to Tommy’s clinic behind him. He called Techno, and within a few minutes, Wilbur was being driven home with you still resting in his arms.

“They’re going to be fine, you know that.”

“I know they will be, but they never should’ve been there in the first place. They never asked for this.” Wilbur sighed.

“Oh, please.” Techno snorted, “You tried to scare them away way back when. You even used your ability to try and convince them to not want to be around you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same. They turned down the offer to join the Syndicate, which meant they never should’ve been involved with this stuff.”

“Maybe you should ask again,” Techno shrugged. “Even if they don’t want to fight, we could use someone to help out with questioning people. Their ability would work pretty well for that.”

“Techno, I just said they shouldn’t have been involved with this stuff.” Wilbur sighed.

“All I’m saying is if they do become a member, it would be a lot easier to keep them safe. Less loose ends that we can’t keep our eyes on.”

Wilbur bit his lip, nodding with realization, “True. I- yeah. I’ll ask them.”

“Plus, with how in love with them you are, it won’t be long before something like this happens again.”

“I- What?” Wilbur spluttered, eyes widening, “How-?”

“How do I know that? Wilbur, it’s insanely obvious,” Techno laughed, “I have no clue how they don’t know.”

“They won’t know. And you won’t tell them.” Wilbur hissed out.

“Mmhm, okay, sure. Pretty big wimp move for a supervillain.”

Wilbur groaned but didn’t respond past that.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, Wilbur gently playing with your hair gently. He routinely moved a hand to check your pulse, just as a reminder that you were fine and alive and here with him.

He carried you out of the car once Techno pulled up, heading straight to his room. He laid you down gently, placing your head on his lap.

The world seemed fuzzy when you came to. You were too comfortable to open your eyes at first, shifting slightly and letting out a soft groan. Your joints felt sore and stiff, but your face felt even weirder. Your face felt warm but like all of your muscles were new and had never been used before. You scrunched your nose, slowly opening your eyes and letting them get used to the environment around you.

You recognized the room instantly and relaxed as the memories started flooding back to you. The kidnapping, Schlatt, getting knocked out. You heard humming, looking up to see Wilbur leaning against the wall, humming with his eyes closed. He was fidgeting with his fingers and biting at his lip.

You slowly shifted to look up at him fully, “Hey.” Your voice was groggier than you’d expected.

He looked down quickly, “You’re up,” he smiled, “Hi.”

“Did everything go well? With Schlatt?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “God, you just woke up from getting knocked out and tortured, and the first thing you ask is if the fight went well?” He moved a hand to your hair gently, “Are you okay?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, “I feel fine, just a bit tired, I guess. I feel like I’m supposed to feel worse.”

“Tommy healed you,” he supplied.

You sat up slowly, and he carefully placed a hand on your back, keeping it there until you’d gotten in a better position. “He didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine.”

“You would’ve had a concussion and a fracture in your skull.”

“That’s not the worst thing in the world.” You joked and gave him a lopsided grin, and he shook his head, chuckling.

He pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”

You hugged him back, burying your face against him gently, “I would’ve been fine.”

You were lying. You were not fine, actually. As strong as you acted, you couldn’t deny the slight shake that lay in your hands as you thought about that warehouse and the overwhelming fear the image of that mask in your head put in you.

You could’ve used your ability to make Wilbur believe you. You didn’t honestly have the energy to do so.

“You don’t have to be fine,” he whispered, rubbing your back gently, “I know how terrifying it must’ve been. But it’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Your fists balled up the fabric of his sweater, and the tears started falling soon after. He rubbed your back as you cried, the waves of fear and stress finally coming out. You could only hold it together for so long, and Wilbur would always be there when you finally broke.

By the time you calmed down, you were left with soft gasps of breath and holding Wilbur like a lifeboat. He leaned over to his nightstand, handing you a glass of water. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You drank slowly, not wanting to overwhelm yourself. Wilbur’s kiss didn’t exactly help, but physical affection wasn’t something new to either of you.

As if he knew exactly what you were thinking, he wrapped his arms around you gently, leaning his face against your shoulder. You leaned into his touch, letting your eyes close for a moment.

“He was stalking me. Well, he was stalking you, but he had photos from years ago of us. Of Siren walking me home. Of Blade at my apartment. Of Zephyrus in my living room.”

Wilbur tensed, keeping you a bit closer. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered, “I-I never should’ve let you get involved with the Syndicate stuff, I was so stupid to think something like this wouldn’t happen.”

“Wilbur, you never let me get involved. In fact, you were the one pushing me from getting involved. I chose this. I knew something like this could happen, and I chose to stick by you.”

“You’re not a member of the Syndicate, though. I know you can protect yourself, but I don’t want to be the reas-”

“Wilbur.” You hissed out. “If you even for a moment insist again that this is your fault, I will use my ability to make you believe that the best way to sleep is by falling out the window.” He bit his tongue from responding, nodding. “I didn’t turn down the Syndicate offer because I thought it would keep me safe.” You reached for his hand, taking it and squeezing it tightly. You didn’t know if it was your foggy mental state that made the idea of confessing your feelings so appealing or if it was just the residual fear in your system, but you didn’t care regardless.

“Why did you turn it down, then?” Wilbur asked softly.

“I turned down the Syndicate offer because I was worried about working with you.” You sighed, “It’s hard to focus around you, Wilbur.”

“Me? I don’t understand, we’ve been best friends for years, why would..?”

“That’s the problem. It’s hard to focus around you because I am constantly wishing that you would love me back.”

You held your breath once the words left your mouth. Wilbur pulled away from you, and you felt your heart drop.

“Do you mean that?” He asked softly, moving to sit in front of you.

You nodded, unable to respond further in fear of the tears resurfacing.

Wilbur reached a hand out, pausing and hesitating for a moment. He continued though, gently cupping your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened. “Only if you mean it.”

He smiled softly, leaning forward and kissing you hard. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him back, putting all the passion behind it that you’d wanted to for years.

When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, catching your breath slowly. He smiled, fingers lightly tracing your arms.

“So… about joining the Syndicate then,” you started.

He laughed, pulling away to grin at you, “You don’t have to decide anything tonight. But it would be really nice. You probably wouldn’t be on the front lines, but we’d love to have you. Plus, we’d be able to see each other a lot more.” He grinned.

You smiled, “Well, I’ll give you a formal answer in the morning. But as for an informal one, I’d fucking love it.”

He grinned, holding you close once more. You ran your hands up and down his back gently, and he hissed in pain when you reached the midpoint of his back. You pulled away.

“Will? You alright?”

He gave a thumbs up, and you smirked, “Say it out loud.”

He groaned, “I am alright. I am perfectly fine.” You could feel the pressure of his words in your head, and they almost sounded distorted. A clear lie.

“Let me see your back.” You smiled, and he groaned.

“You know how much I hate that I can’t lie to you?” He huffed, turning and pulling his sweater up.

“I know, I know,” you took a good look at his back, frowning at the dark bruise on his back, “Wilbur, you have a huge bruise. Are your ribs okay? It looks like some might be cracked.”

“They feel fine,” he shrugged. The pressure returned to your head, and this time you could feel a sensation of burning below your hands. A big lie, then.

“...I’m texting Tommy.”

“No, do not!”

You already had your phone out, texting Tommy to ask for him to come as soon as possible, both for Wilbur and so you could thank him for healing you.

“Too late,” you smiled, and Wilbur huffed, pulling his sweater back down.

He wrapped an arm around you again, kissing the top of your head, “You’re lucky I love you, Aletheia.”

“I am,” you smiled softly. There was no pressure or warm sensation. He did love you. He meant it. “Alethia? God of… truth, right?”

He nodded, “It’s Techno’s codename for you. He chose it out months ago.”

You smiled fondly, “Cool. Has a nice ring to it.”

He nodded, “I agree. And for what it’s worth, I’m lucky too.” He smiled, and you gave him a gentle kiss.

“We’re both lucky. Maybe our duo name could be Tyche.”

“Oh, god, I’m going to have to deal with so many more Greek mythology references with you in the Syndicate, aren’t I?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

[alovesongtheywrote]

Nightmare Academia | Spencer Reid x Reader

♥ Summary:  Have you ever seen the tiktok where that guy brings a typewriter to his class because his prof doesn't allow laptops? Yeah, it's that, but you are the source of the typewriters. In other words, you're Reid's worst nightmare. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings:  Descriptions of emotional vulnerability from a student to a professor, reminders that the world sucks and Gen-Z is fucked when it comes to housing. The reader is. Kind of Mean to Spencer, but I won't say he doesn't deserve it. Enemies to Lovers, but they're just Enemies right now.

♥ A/N: a couple things about this fic. 1) i have no clue when this takes place in the criminal minds timeline???? i just know reid took a some kind of leave from the bau, and this is what he's doing with it 2) reid isn't actually in this one that much. my bad. 3) i've got no clue what university these two teach at. i researched typewriters extensively for this, but i didn't bother googling universities.

♥ Word count:  2371

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

“Alright, my little chilli babies, that’s about it for today. If you have any questions, office hours start now, and please remember there’s an exam next week. It makes me sad when you forget. Got it? Got it. Cool.”

Your students immediately began to stand and file out of the room. They left in groups. Some of them chatted amongst themselves softly, and some called out a farewell to you, but most of them were silent. One or two lingered behind to ask about the administration process of the PCL-R, but that was about it.

Except for this one girl.  

You were pretty sure her name was Opal. She sat near the back of the room in the second to last row. She got good grades and performed well on tests and projects- although she was a touch shy during the one presentation project you assigned during the semester.

Usually, Opal was one of the first to leave, practically running from the room, but today she just sat there, staring straight ahead. You watched her for a second, vaguely assuming that she had a question or something. She didn’t get up to ask, though. She just sat still, staring at her laptop.  You paid her no mind.  Sometimes your students just needed a second, and that was usually nothing to worry about.

You were just about to pack up your own things and head for your office when you heard a sob. You looked up again to see Opal just sobbing into her computer. You winced. A pang of sympathy hit you dead in the chest. University was just like that sometimes- and she wasn’t the first or last student to cry on campus.  

Shit, you cried on campus. Like, all the time. As a professor.  The previous Tuesday you thought about the two-headed calf poem too hard and you ended up sobbing in your office.  

You headed for the back of the room, leaning a hip against the back of the seat beside her. She didn’t seem to notice your presence. Her laptop screen was covered with detailed notes- it was honestly an impressive collection.  

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow, “Everything okay over here?”

Opal gasped, looking up at you with wide eyes, “I-I’m- I-” she sobbed again, “I’m so sorrrrrry.”

“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m crying in your classroom, and I’m so overwhelmed, and my next assignment is going to be late, and I’m so sorrrrry.”

The poor thing put her face in her hands and hunched over in her seat. You pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. University is stressful. It’s easy to get overwhelmed and crying can provide a cathartic release from that.”

“I- I know. It’s just so- so embarrassing.”

“Again, don’t worry about it. I literally cried in here last week.”

“R-really?”

“Mhmm. Now, if it helps, I can provide an extension on that assignment. Your feedback might be a little less in-depth, but that’s really nothing to worry about. Your work has always met a high standard.”

Her eyes somehow got even wider, “Are you- are you sure, professor?”

“Absolutely. It’s not a big deal- it might not fix your whole problem though,” you pulled your legs up onto the chair, sitting criss-cross facing your student, “If you’re feeling overwhelmed, the school provides free counselling services. They can help you feel less… whelmed.”  

Opal nodded, wiping her eyes, “It’s really just- just this one class I’m in. Our professor doesn’t allow laptops so I have to take notes by hand. But my- my writing is really messy, so then I have to figure out what I wrote, and-”

She was working herself back into a frenzy. You had to intervene. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Which prof is it, maybe we can ask about getting an accommodation made?”

“It’s-” she sobbed, “It’s Professor Reid.”

You froze. Opal continued to sob as a dark, heavy storm cloud rolled into your brain.  

“That fucking bastard,” you hissed, effectively shocking Opal out of her stupor.

“Wh-what?”

“This isn’t the first time he’s- okay, come on, follow me, we’re going to my office.”

Wordlessly, Opal put her things in her bag. You ran to your desk to do the same, snatching your keys and water bottle before heading out into the hallway. Opal followed diligently, but she struggled to keep up with your purposeful strides. Her face was still tear-stained, but now, instead of sorrow, her expression was the ultimate picture of confusion. When you reached your office, you swung the door open wide and ushered the girl inside.

In all honesty, you were quite proud of the space you had created. It was warmly lit, a necessary contrast from the harsh white lights of the hallway (you fucking hated those lights). The walls were decorated with your doctorates and neat little art pieces you found in various places. It was colourful and pleasant, and now was not the time to focus on your choice of decor because you were on a mission.

Opal remained near the door, watching as you rounded your desk and reached for something below it. With a slight groan of effort, you quickly emerged with your prize.

A vintage typewriter.

A heavy vintage typewriter.

You placed the thing down on your desk as delicately as you could. Opal stared at you in confusion as you beamed at the fine piece of machinery.

“Which room is his class in, I’ll have someone bring this to you.”

“Professor-?”

“You use it for one class, just one, and I guarantee he’ll let you use your laptop. Damn, technophobe.”

“I don’t know how to use a typewriter.”

You placed your hands on the desk, leaning forward on it, “Okay, come here then, I’ll show you.”

Opal timidly made her way towards you. You made sure to leave her lots of space as you ran through the tech tutorial. She picked up on it quickly, being the good student that she was. When you were done, you collapsed back in your chair, another bright smile on your face. Opal looked significantly less distraught, but still vaguely confused.

“Can I ask why you’re doing this for me? You- you didn’t even have to give me an extension. Why are you-?”

“Because you aren’t the first student to have this problem.”

It was true. This was the seventh sobbing-student-style complaint you’d had about him in as many months- and Reid had only been there for seven months.  You’d received emails, phone calls, and office hour meetings where desperate and devastated students would explain to you that they were falling behind. It broke your heart a little bit- and it pissed you right off.  

It was ironic that Doctor Reid had come straight here from the FBI- his technophobic nature was slowly but surely murdering your students, and now, you were going to murder him.

“Now about that extension, does five days sound good?”

Opal handed in the assignment two days into her extension. You smiled as you looked over her incredible paper. Your little scheme had worked. You hoped that Reid was pissed.

–

He was! Kind of. Not really.  It was a bit of a disappointment to be honest.

You had only known Doctor Spencer Reid for the seven months he’d been teaching alongside you, and boy howdy were you starting to hate his fucking guts. At first, everything was fine. He’d seemed sweet, and polite, and you were willing to overlook the whole FBI profiler thing to maintain the peace.

Then one of your students passed out during class.  

Thanks to his high expectations and fear of computers, there was a lot of shit for his students to cope with. The worst part was, you agreed with some of his policies- of course, you didn’t agree with the tech thing, that was stupid- but there was other stuff that you liked. He taught your students things that could help them improve- but at what cost.

Your formerly dim-eyed and sleepy students (let’s be real, they were never going to be bright-eyed nor bushy-tailed, they’re fucking college students) were now going through life in a state of anxiety that was not good for their long-term health. That was enough to make you hate Spencer Reid.  

And then one night, over a very full glass of wine you looked up his FBI career. You learned that the BAU used a private jet.

A private. Fucking. Jet.

They didn’t need to use the private jet. They could’ve used trains and it would’ve done the same thing. Shit, they didn’t even have to leave Quantico. They could’ve done their job from their main office. Most profilers do their job from their main office.  Instead, Reid’s team had dumped fucking jet fuel into the damn atmosphere because they fucking felt like it.  Not to mention just. FBI. Ew.

So, yeah. Fuck Reid’s three PhD’s, and fuck his ability to teach. You didn’t give a shit about any of that. You hated the man. You wanted to eat his heart in the main atrium, and given your way, you would.

Taking all that into consideration, it was only natural for the expression on your face to morph into one of absolute joy when Reid came to your office with the typewriter in his arms, and his tail between his legs.

“Doctor Reid,” your smile was a plastic thing, a false beauty with venom hiding beneath it, “What can I help you with.”

“Please stop sending that typewriter to my class.”

You opened your eyes a little wider, playing dumb just to fuck with him, “Typewriter? Whatever do you mean? I can’t imagine anyone in this century would even own a little antique typewriter like that thing there.”

“Little? That thing has to be over a hundred pounds- and it’s not antique, it’s-”

“It is literally thirty-three pounds.”

“Oh, okay,” he nodded. It was very clearly a ruse, “But how would you know that unless you own the typewriter?”

“I do a lot of research. That’s a 1960s Vintage Royal Empress Typewriter measuring about twelve inches in width and weighing thirty-three pounds and eight ounces. Y’know, now that you mention it, I’ve actually been in the market for a vintage typewriter.”

You put your elbows together on the desk and placed your face in your hands, “You wouldn’t know where I could get one would you?”

“Dr. (L/N), this is your typewriter.  Please stop sending it to my classes.”

“Hm, I guess it doesn’t pay tuition, that’s not fair to the other students,” you opened your laptop, “What class do you teach again? I’ll sign it up and pay the price in full.”

Doctor Reid let out the most exasperated sigh you had ever heard in your life- and that was impressive. You taught college kids.

“Why are you like this?” he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“I said-” he at least had the decency to look embarrassed, “I said, ‘Why are you like this?’”

Your smile split your face from ear to ear. You emerged from behind your desk slowly, carefully, like a predator eyeing up its prey.

“Why am I like this, Dr. Reid? I’m like this because in the past seven months, I have had to deal with seven emotionally wrecked students, and what did they all have in common? Was it personal tragedies? The pure state of the world and everything in it? The knowledge that very few of the students at this school will be able to afford houses once they enter the working world?  No, Dr. Reid. The thing they had in common was you.”

“What are you implying?”

“Implying- what are you implying, he asks me,” you muttered, “I’m saying that your fear of computers is fucking over your students.”

“Studies have shown that handwritten notes-”

“No, no, stop. You don’t get to talk.  I’m talking now. Handwritten notes might be better for long-term memory retention, but not everyone writes as fast as you talk. Most of these kids don’t have time to switch their notes to a digital format! And that doesn’t account for shit getting lost, or students who get sick and miss class. Look, I get that computers might be scary for you, but in a climate where most of your students are full-time students, who take a mind-numbing amount of courses that cover incredibly difficult material, go home and struggle with the steaming pile of shit that is reality, and then head out for their part-time jobs- or, in some cases, their full-time jobs- you might want to have a degree of sympathy.”

Reid stared at you. He seemed unaffected. You wondered if that was because you were like, an entire foot shorter than him. You pulled up a chair and stood on it.

“Let your students use their laptops, or I swear to god, I will never stop sending the typewriter to class.  You will hear the incessant sound of keys clicking in your nightmares, got it?” 

He paused, his eyes darting across your face from your lips to your eyes and back.

“How old are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re standing on a chair like a child. How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven. Now get out of my office.”

He did as you asked. You could see a small smirk on his lips as he shut the door behind him. The sight of it made your blood boil, and there and then, you decided you were gonna keep sending the typewriter anyway because fuck that guy.

Still, over the next few months, you never heard another complaint about Spencer Reid and his technophobic habits. Your students went from extreme emotional agony to regular, day-to-day emotional agony. He’d stopped making them take notes by hand.

You were still gonna kill him just… maybe a little bit less.

[redheadspark]

19 with Oliver Wood please👉👈

A/N - This is CUTE for Oliver! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Know So

Summary - Sometimes Oliver needs some words of encouragement when it comes to being the Quidditch Captain

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

As soon as you plopped down next to Oliver, you knew he was thinking too deep in his head.

The Three Broomsticks was not as crowded that night since it was during the week and most of the students were out shopping at either Zonkos or Honeydukes.  It was one of the very rare nights that Hogwarts students were allowed to come to Hogsmeade for a few hours before curfew, and the ones who were allowed to come had excellent marks in their classes.  Mostly it was 6th and 7th years, those who worked hard and had their noses in their books then causing trouble. It was also meant for Prefects and Quidditch Captains, which was why both you and Oliver were there with the older students. 

Being a co-captain with Oliver Wood was no easy task, but he was the one who handpicked you.  You both were in the same year and started Quidditch on the Gryffindor team at the same time as 2nd year.  You saw his competitiveness and thirst to win, not to mention his natural talent on the broom and as the keeper.  You were just as good, but Oliver was always a pinch better, which was why he was chosen to be the Captain when Oliver was a 5th year.  There was no need to be jealous of that achievement since you knew Oliver earned it with the hours at practice and the plenty of scrapes and broken bones.  But was surprised you was that he wanted you to be his co-captain the next year when you two were 6th years.  There has never been a co-captain in Hogwarts quidditch history, and he had to get special permission from both Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.  Both of them agreed, which to the dismay of Slytherin house.

In the end, you were grateful that Oliver chose you to work alongside him, you thinking that he needed more strategy.  But he confessed how you were more leveled headed when it came to making plays and handling stress, and he wanted someone to counter him when he got stressed.  You were a great player nonetheless, a great Chaser and reserve Beater when one of the twins was out.  Oliver loved watching you play and talking to you about things to improve on, so this past recent practice you could tell he had something on his mind.  He was not entirely focused, not like how he would usually be.  So when the rest of the team left for the showers, you pulled him aside and suggested the pair of you unwind at the Three Broomsticks.

He accepted, showing off the handsome smile on his face as you clasped him on the shoulder. 

“Here,” You said, handed him his Buttebeer while you sat next to him with yours in your hand, “Wanna tell me what’s going on?  You look like you’re in deep thought,”

He gave you a questioning look, “What makes ya think I’m in deep thought?” He countered back as you raised a brow at him.

“I’ve known you since our first year, Oliver.  You can tell me,” You reasoned, seeing him paused as he held his Butterbeer glass in hand, “You always seemed to overthink about a lot of things, especially when it comes to Quidditch.  Wanna tell me why you’re overthinking?”

Oliver sighed, tapping the glass with his fingers as you took a long sip from your own glass and waited for his answer.  Seeing how he still seemed a bit stiff and uneasy, almost sitting a bit too stiff like a breeze would  knock him over.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not doin’ a good enough job as the captain,” He said in a grumble, you looking at him in shock as he was watching the bubble in his drink rise up a bit, “I mean, I know I push the team a lot and I make the practices go longer, but maybe I go too far when it comes to—“

“Oliver, you are not a bad captain,” You interrupted him as he looked over at you and you smiled at hime, “I know for a fact you’re a great captain!  The other do too, and although they grumble a bit at times, they still think you’re great,”

That perked Oliver up a bit from hearing that from you, though he eyed you with a hint of suspicion, “You think so? I really value yer opinion and I wanna know from ya,”

“Since when do I lie to you?” You asked with a playful shove of your shoulder against his, seeing his smile not leave his face as you went on, “Let’s be honest: the others may give you slack from time to time, but I know they would follow your calls in every game.  They know you’re a great leader and captain because you care about them.  Remember that one time you told the twins to back off from decking the Slytherin Beaters when they were targeting me that one game?”

You remember that game very well, how nasty it was, and how brutal the Southern team was being against the Gryffindor team.  The two beaters on the Slytherin team made it a plan to target you and try to take you out since you were raking up the points.  One bludger was close enough to make you fall off your broom, barely missing your head as the twins were about to retaliate.  You were fine, spooked but fine nonetheless as Olive barked orders at them to back down.  Luckily, Harry snagged the snitch just in time to win the game and to give the Slytherin team scowl looks of defeat.  

“They were gifts for doin’ that to you,” Oliver grumbled, you knowing he was talking about the Slytherin beaters.

“But still, you made sure the twins weren’t going to make fools of themselves.  And I recall that one time you helped me out when I wasn’t feeling confident enough, back when you asked me to be your co-captain,” You explained, seeing Oliver scan your eyes for a moment bringing up that other memory.  You were hesitant in taking on the role, though Oliver seemed so confident about the choice he made.  You two were sitting in the stands side by side, the sun going down over the Scotland mountains as you were questioning if he made the right choice in choosing you.

“You’re gonna be great helpin’ the team, and helpin’ me,” Oliver explained to you as you were fiddling with your practice robes, “You’re great at the game and I can’t think of any other person in working alongside me,”

You eyed him with suspicion, seeing his glorious smile as the setting sun was setting on his face, and made his chocolate eyes twinkle a bit more.  You saw it in how he was watching you, how close he was to you in fact that he was telling the truth.

“You think so?” You asked tentatively.  Oliver nodded, his smile never leaving his face.

“I know so,” he replied.

“You’re an amazing captain because you’re an amazing person,” You reassured him, seeing his smile once again as you two were sitting in the booth.  It was evident that his mood was lifted, he was no longer in his funk and he held up his glass to you.

“Thanks,” He replied, you raising your glass to touch his.

“Anytime,” You hummed, the pair of you taking a long drink from your glasses.  You had no idea that Oliver was insanely moved by what you said, making his intense crush on you deepen by the second.

The End

April Prompt Session

[hphmmatthewluther]

HPHM Ship Week: Day 2 - Soulmate AU

It's time for another ship fic! This time we have a look at how things might go in a world where relationships and destiny have an odd connection to each other...

Again, thanks so much to @hphm-ship-week for organising this event!

It seemed like a perfectly ordinary evening as the students of Hogwarts filed into the Great Hall. They’d been called in earlier than usual for some sort of special assembly. Amongst the crowd, within the Slytherins, a girl with bright pink eyes and messy brown and orange hair looked across the room.

“Looks like it’s only the fourth-years.” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Wonder what this is about?”

Ismelda, who looked on with her usual lack of enthusiasm, shrugged. “No idea. Probably something dull like a new room we’re not allowed into.”

Barnaby had his eyes on the back of the room. “Oh, there’s something under the cloth! Maybe it’ll be….a cake?”

Merula looked across at him. “Barnaby, I don’t think it’ll be a cake. The cloth would get icing on it.”

“Oh yeah.” Barnaby said, frowning. “What do you think it is, then?”

Merula had to get up on her tiptoes, but she saw what Barnaby was talking about. “Hmm…some kind of trophy? Maybe we’ll have a new inter-house competition! I’ll get to kick Luther’s arse again!”

“Doesn’t he kick your arse all of the time?” Ismelda pointed out, flicking the hair in front of her eye.

“It’s…” Merula hissed, clenching her fists. “It’s 50/50. We’re rivals, damn it! I get just as many wins as he does!”

“Maybe.” Ismelda shrugged. “But he doesn’t care about it like you do. So that means he gets an extra win.”

“Oh, are you guys talking about Matthew?” Barnaby asked, innocently. “He’s over there if you want to say hi!”

As the fourth-years sat down, Merula was unable to stop herself from turning to Ravenclaw. Sure enough, sitting at their table a few seats down was Matthew Luther, spinning his silver bracelet around on his wrist. There was a moment when he looked up at her, but Merula scowled and looked away.

“Whatever this is…I’m going to beat him!” she muttered under her breath. 

A few minutes passed, and Professor Dumbledore stepped into the middle of the room, as Filch dragged the cloth-covered object over. “Welcome, fourth-years!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed, “welcome to a very special moment in your magical journeys. As you know, our society has enjoyed relative tranquillity outside of the occasional dark wizard. The reason for this is that everyone knows that the person they end up closest with is the most perfect one for them.”

Merula had only been half-listening when she realised just what Dumbledore had been saying. This didn’t sound like “inter-house competition” talk.

“This part of our world has been kept secret from all of you until now, and I ask that you do not discuss it with anyone in the lower three years. There will be severe punishments if this happens. Do I make myself clear?”

The whole room nodded, muttering to each other. Merula also noticed Matthew clutching his stomach. He always did that when he was stressed. She’d always found it odd how someone so capable at magic could have such an adorable habit. No, no, nott adorable, maybe…silly. Yes, silly. She definitely didn’t think it was cute or anything like that.

“So!” Dumbledore brought his hands together before reaching for the cloth. “Behold the secret to your happiness. The Mirror of the Soul!”

Dumbledore pulled the cloth away, and there stood a luxurious mirror, the glass held aloft by what looked like silver branches complete with leaves. There was a loud “oooo” as people craned their necks to see more properly.

“One by one, you will come up and gaze into the mirror.” Dumbledore explained. “You will then get to see your soulmate. From there, you will have free time for the next two weeks to find and get to know your soulmate even better. Following this, you will be given new timetables for your lessons together.”

Merula blinked once or twice. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Soulmates? The thought enveloped her head so quickly she barely realised that she’d got up into the queue of fourth years, all excitedly chattering to each other about who their soulmate might be. Barnaby ended up near Matthew in the queue, and Merula could only watch as Barnaby excitedly began to talk with him. Looking at them standing like this, Merula hadn’t realised just how tall Matthew was until now. Even though he was slouching, he was still more or less at the same eye level as Barnaby. A vague curiosity about what he’d look like standing upright appeared in her head for a moment.

Once the line had been formed, the soul-reading began. One by one, each student went up, stared into the mirror, and stepped away with a significantly changed expression, be it surprise, relief, heartbreak, or anything else. Merula had to cover her mouth to laugh as she watched Penny walk away with an incredible look of confusion on her face. The K’s passed into the L’s as Jae walked away happy and Chiara walked away incredibly flustered, and didn’t miss the look they gave each other. By the time they’d reached the L’s Merula had barely started thinking about who she wanted her soulmate to be. She’d honestly never even given it much thought, never exactly subscribing to fate or destiny (unless of course it was her destiny, that being one of greatness).

Having gone just before Chiara, Barnaby jogged back down the line to Merula. “That was so cool! I never even expected it! Oo, Matthew’s next.”

Matthew slowly made his way up to the mirror, taking deep breaths as he did so. Merula scoffed. “Look at him…who’d he reckon his soulmate would be? Lobosca? Tonks?”

Barnaby’s smile turned into a frown. “Actually, um…he didn’t think he had one.”

“What?” Merula asked aloud. “But he’s…” she paused and fumed for a moment, before turning back to Barnaby. “What’s with him?! Why can’t he see how popular he is? How much people just love him! Why on earth would he think he couldn’t have a soulmate?”

Barnaby shrugged. “You know how indecisive he gets. This might help him, though.” He pointed out, before moving towards the others. 

Merula turned her attention back to Matthew. He’d been staring into the mirror for a while, the glow of the glass illuminating his face, his green eyes focused on whatever he was seeing. It must have been important, as Merula noticed his tongue slightly stuck out in concentration. He always seemed to do that right before coming up with another of his brilliant plans, often thwarting her own. She didn’t mind, though. She liked the challenge, especially from someone like him…a thought which she wasn’t going to fully process at that moment.

Eventually, Matthew pulled away from the mirror, his eyes wide. He didn’t seem to have a stomach ache anymore, and simply walked down with the other Ravenclaws who had been soul-read. Merula tried to keep her face still as she realised what she’d been hoping for. The Ms-Ss passed by in mere seconds from her perspective. Before she knew it, it was her turn.

She huffed, and strutted over to the mirror, making a show of how totally beneath her she found all of this. She rested her hands on the silver and gazed into the mirror. She felt herself lean forward, her face passing through the glass, and suddenly she was somewhere new. Refusing to let this sort of thing get to her, she swam through the clouds, trying to find something or someone.

Giving up, she yelled out “Hey! Anyone there?! Isn’t someone supposed to be telling me who my soulmate is?!” But there was nothing.

A deep fear arose within her. Did she even have a soulmate? Could anyone, feasibly, realistically, want to spend their life with her in it more than anyone else? The thought made her feel very afraid as the clouds around her began to grow dark. She’d be alone, wouldn’t she? She’d done it to herself after all, it was how she wanted it…but it wasn’t so simple, she realised. This was more than being a lonely heart, dreaming of romance. She had become a lonely soul, desperate for any human connection. And no one would give it to her, right?

The answer to that question appeared embarrassingly quickly. She knew the one person who might possibly understand how she felt. Who knew loneliness. Who knew how it could make you throw your life away for no good reason. Who knew how tricky it was to rebuild everything, but also knew how important doing so was. The clouds had parted.

Before she knew it, she was back in the Great Hall. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but she turned to try and voice her thoughts.

“...Oh…” was all that emerged from her mouth. She walked away from the mirror, back across the line, and sat down. She turned, and found that she had sat next to him.

He looked over at her. You okay? His expression read.

No point denying it, is there? Her expression replied. I suppose you’re stuck with me.

Matthew’s eyes widened and he pointed to himself. No, no! You’re stuck with me.

Merula simply rolled her eyes. Fine, we’re stuck together, then. Not much different from how we were anyway. Matthew couldn’t help but laugh at that. Merula smiled as well, her eyes fixing on the open door. You know, with everyone stuck on the soul-reading, we could just leave.

Matthew considered this. As long as you don’t think we’ll get caught…

Who could keep up with us? Merula held out her hand, and Matthew took it. They turned to run, out the door, out the school, and away…

***

Merula found herself in her bed. She opened and closed her eyes a few times, before her eyes widened. She twisted around and planted her face into her pillow, cringing at herself.

This isn’t fair. I thought I wanted to be alone, but then that Smartarse showed up and now…now I’m having dreams where I’m his…

She paused mid-thought. The word filled her brain. She didn’t need some magic mirror to know that they were more similar than most people knew. She knew and he knew, and somehow she preferred it that way. She knew now, in her soul, that this was unavoidable. She’d have to do something about her crush on Matthew Luther.

[moonysbxtch0]

505

Part 3: Two can play this game

Summary: Professor Lupin gets his ‘revenge’ for your dirty play during his last class.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x werewolf student

Warnings: None

Ao3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/39275319/chapters/100533909#workskin

A few days had passed quickly. The pressure on you was worse than last year. The teachers had become stricter and kept mentioning the fact that your future depended on this year as if you weren't aware of it. What you always told yourself to help you deal with the stress was the phrase 'If I manage 12 transformations a year I can manage anything.'

During these past few days you had always found a way to make the class fun which always led to detentions. You had already lost 30 points to Gryffindor during Potions. It was Marcus who kept talking but since Snape is a complete ass to Gryffindor he blamed it on you and took house points when you tried to explain yourself. Luckily you managed to win 20 in transfiguration and 15 in DADA . Talking about DADA...It had become your favourite subject of all time and not only yours. Apparently everyone felt the same.

Professor Lupin was completely different from Quirell, Lockheart and the previous teachers before them. He was outstanding on his field and always managed to make his class fun. He was charming,sarcastic and cracked a few jokes from time to time.Last but not least he was the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. 

It seemed like he didn't hold a grudge against you for that little dirty trick you pulled to save the class from the 20 pages of parchment. However he played more than dirty himself. 

You had not studied at all when he had mentioned that you will be having an exam. You thought that the first grade you would be getting on DADA as a 7th year would be outstanding, O,because you would cheat and well he said that you didn't have to study.

You arrived on time for his class, followed by Oliver and Percy as usual. Your eyes scanned the class and finally landed on him. You had a smug smirk on your face when you greeted him. He shook his head slightly from left to right and smiled at you. You sat in your desk, between Percy and Oliver and folded your arms on your desk. 

"Alright." The professor stood up from his seat and clapped to get everyone's attention."Is everyone ready?" 

"Yes." The class seemed in a good mood. Of course... who wouldn't be knowing that they would get an O just from cheating. The professor flicked his wand and at that moment, a single sheet of paper appeared in front of each student. You flipped it to the other side and repeated the motion a couple times. You met eyes with Oliver he seemed as confused. The exam  had only one question, a very simple one. Even a 4th year would be able to answer to that ...

"Write your names ,answer the question and we shall continue with what I have planned for the day."

"This is stupid ! The question is fourth year knowledge."You locked eyes with him. His lips twitched, he was trying not to smile. 

"Well Y/N ,I did tell you everyone would pass without having to study, didn't I?"

Two can play this game huh... And a smirk formed on his face.He looked so pleased with what he had done and honestly you deserved it. If you played dirty you had no right to tell him anything about this. You sighed and lowered your head to write the answer to the question.Seems like everyone was done rather quickly. Professor Lupin made sure each student handed him the paper before deciding to break the silence. 

"You will be having another exam next week. I will be testing what have you learned so far.Make sure you study for it."You threw him a stare. He did the stupid exam today in purpose just to keep his word ."Got anything to say Y/N?" He teased when he saw the look on your face.He truly was a bastard...

"No Professor. " You forced a smile.

"Very well. Today we are going to talk about Kappas. Can anyone tell me what they are?" A few hands shot in the air.

"Yes Percy ?"

"The Kappas are Japanese water demons which feed on human blood. They are known for strangling humans that invaded their shallow ponds." 

"Correct. And how can one protect themselves from Kappas?"

"One could protect themselves from, and appease a Kappa by throwing a cucumber inscribed with that person's name.However, if they could trick it into bowing, the water in its head would spill out, weakening it."

"Correct Y/N. 10 points to Gryffindor ,5 points per each of you. "

<•>

The weeks passed quickly. When you were a first year you never believed the words of Professor Mcgonagall when she told you that years pass in a blink of eyes. Your brain still could not comprehend how that was possible. Before Harry started studying here, school was quite boring... days barely passed but ever since he got here he is on some sort of streak... firstly he faces  Quirell who was  helping Voldemort, then the giant basilisk last year, now Sirius Black coming after him... The only bright side any of these things had, was professor Dumbledore cancelling the exams at the end of the year. 

The full moon cycle started 4 days ago and you felt anxious. Usually different months came with different mood swings. One month you would be happy ,the other motivated ,the other sad ...so to sum it up... if one specific emotion existed you would relive it. 

You realised that this month had hit you with  annoyance... you felt irritated all the time.You snapped at Oliver during dinner the other time just because he was munching his food 'too loudly '. You apologised after but still it didn't come from the heart because one part of you still felt like it would be a better idea to have smashed his face on his plate of food. First thing that irritated you this morning was the wet dream you had. It was the same you had been seeing since summer but it was more detailed this time. You knew that your back was against a cold surface and the voice seemed familiar but the person was still a shadow. 

"Fucking shit!" You were running to the dungeons, immediately after you realised that you were late for you class. Out of all classes you were late in Potions.You made your way there and slipped unnoticed...or so you thought. 

"Lost your way L/N?"Okay the last thing you wanted to hear today was Snape starting with his shit.

"Not really, I just overslept. " You said with the tone you knew that Snape hated the most. His lip snarled.

"That's on your carelessness!"

"When did I say it wasn't?"

"Sit down." He threw you a stare."5 points from Gryffindor. "

"What for?"

"Make it 10."

"But-" Percy kicked your leg.

"Let it go. You know how he is."

You let out a sigh and annoyingly stared at him.

<•>

You were still furious about the fact that Snape took 10 housepoints...he could have let you go with a warning. 

"He is a fucking asshole. He hates us Gryffindor!"

"We know that. Percy sighed."Just please- make sure not to lose us other points. "

You took a deep breath to calm yourself.Snape didn't have to ruin DADA as well for you. Professor Lupin,whom, you had not seen for a few days...you only had DADA on Monday and Friday,walked inside the classroom,made hus way to his desk and suddenly you felt weird. You couldn't put it in words but it had something to do with the wolf .

"The bloody hell-" you rubbed your temples.Professor Lupin was staring at you ,piercing you with his gaze. When you raised your head to meet his eyes he stared your for a bit longer and got up.

"Alright class- I have graded your exams. If you have any complains about your grade stay after class." 

He started handing out the papers and when he walked closer to you ,you suddenly were more aware of his presence. His smell filled your lungs ,sandalwood, chocolate, tea and an odd smell you could not quite place at the moment.You grabbed the paper as he left and realised that you had taken a good grade. 

Some little notes were written here and there but other than that you had done fine. He  started explaining the lesson after all of you had carefully observed your exams. You had zoned out a while ago and hadn't realised that the lesson was over.

"Y/N?" You snapped back to reality and realised that the class was empty. "I thought you would be satisfied with your grade?"

"Oh. Sorry" You started putting your books inside your bag." I am."Professor Lupin smiled.

"You had done quite well in your exam."

A blush creeped on your face at the sudden praise. "It's all thanks to you Professor. "

"Is something bothering you today?" 

"Why do you ask?"

"You seemed off during class." 

"Ah. I-" you locked eyes with him and your stomach felt weird when you saw the way he was staring at you"...ehm..I was just mad at Professor Snape. "

" Did he do something to upset you?"

"He took 10 house points for no reason. I mean...I was late and I kinda talked back to him but that was no reason to do that." 

You had gathered your stuff and were ready to leave. The professor chuckled and the sound made you feel weird. Why did that make you feel warm from the inside? You blamed it on the full moon.

"I heard that he is quite unfair to Gryffindor. Don't worry though. You lost 10 points you can win 20,you are capable of that."

"Hopefully. " You manged to say and found it difficult to tear your eyes from his.The two of you fell in silence,both staring at each other.

"Uhh- Well...I gotta go." You managed to get hold of yourself.

"Have a nice day Y/N."

"You too Professor. " You nodded as you walked away from his class.Now what the hell was that...As you were walking to your dorm you suddenly remembered that you had promised Oliver that you would meet him  on the pitch today. He wanted to give the yearly captain speech and inspect the pitch. The team was already there when you arrived .

"Finally here." Oliver said when he saw you.

"Could have taken me here when you left from DADA." You rolled your eyes and approached him.

"I thought you were not happy with your grade." Oliver smiled, knowing damn well you had taken a good grade. You flipped him off and he laughed. 

Part 4:

[onyourhyuck]

Sweater Weather. | J.JH (M) Part 3 <3

prologue- “I want you.” + “I want to look at your face as we do it.”

tw- friend’s older brother!jaehyun x fem!y/n. sungchan is jaehyun’s younger brother. y/n has the fattest crush on jae and he finds it rly cute. Fluff and SMUT in this part <3. Soft smut. Soft dom jaehyun. Praising. Jae wants to take care of y/n. After care mention. Mirror is in use <3

notes- Heavily inspired by Sweater Weather By Neighbourhood. <3

tag list- @kae-t-eee <3 @j69no <3 @back2jisung <3 @pretiurs @seodami <3 @humongouscowboyskeletonranch <3 @hwaluvx <3 @caramelhyunn <3 @seokjinnjuice <3 @ytzvivi <3

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It’s been a few weeks since the romantic confession between you and jaehyun. Your relationship with him was just the beginning.

Though the small sneaking about together behind Sungchan so he wouldn’t question why you two are suddenly really close, it somehow made you feel like you were in a romantic movie.

The days you guys weren’t able to meet one another (and you weren’t at the dorm but at your parents home), he would surprise you by gently throwing stones at the edge of your window, surely to wake you up. Then you come down from the front door and star gazing all night with him in a field behind your house.

You’d surprise him with made up lunchboxes when he would drop you secretly to uni on days you were running late, before leaving, you kiss him on the cheek leaving him flustered.

But now it’s been five days you haven’t seen him physically. Every uni student currently is going through it, their sleep schedule said goodbye and so did their will to continue. You know what this means. It was exam season. The most fearful thing that a university student could possibly hear.

The peers of pressure to pass the marking slot, the competition between their colleagues was high up on the list. Hell it felt like.— while teachers and professors somehow expect you to keep up with homework piles that are strangling your room in half as well as revising for the exams you have in just about few hours AND turn up to class too. It wasn’t easy. Far from it.

Nobody warned you how university was going to be stressful. Despite it having many good things to boost about, it can’t really compete to the stress you will get.

You blow on your lips following by a harsh sigh. You’ve been pulling at your hair for a while now as you wrote down on the very important fact to the success of hopefully passing. In the library that you’re residing in, there weren’t many people. Just a few plus the librarian.

Then a beeping vibration set you from the focusing zone you have brought yourself in. The phone screen flicking on with a green notification. You didn’t think much of it, so you pick it up without much emotions. Apathetically slandering the fact you’re so close to just slamming a book on someone’s head.

Yes you do have your frustrated moments. The tired droopy eyes watch the screen as you unlock it, your lips fall apart, your eyes immediately forcing in an eye-smile.

“My love <3”: hey baby i know it’s exam week but how do you feel about coming over? sungchan won’t be home because he will be doing a study sesh with his friends.

“My Girl <3”: hey bb imma come over then. i really need to see you </33 this close to having a mental crisis in this shit holeeee ;_;

“My Love <3”: this is a first i ever saw you swear and it was over exams, must be really hard for you :( don’t worry i’ll get your favourite ice cream and put on pitch perfect <3 mwah

“My girl <3”: you’re a life saviour babe. i’ll see you soon mwah

a hand slams down on the table causing you to nearly drop your phone, you’ve been lovestruck staring at the screen repeating yours and Jaehyun’s conversations that you completely ignored that the boy standing next to you now was speaking.

“yah what are you reading so intensely, it really didn’t look like exam revision.” Sungchan would say as he sat down on your table. you thickly laugh as you put the phone away. “of course it was revision. what else would i be looking at.”

you play it off cooly and calmly, turning back on the multiple books you brought to help. sungchan unzips the bag, pushing down the science books.

“i thought you were texting your boyfriend or something because you had this very goofy smile that only happens when you love someone.”

he was still completely unaware that you was dating his brother and honestly, it might shock him quite a bit. you would rather give it some privacy between you and jae before finally coming out to announce it

your eyes widen a tiny bit before awkwardly stuttering. your hands shake in front of the boy as you go to deny it. but another thing interrupts you and sungchan. The boy smiles.

“sungchan hey,” a much younger looking boy spoke as he turns to face you. Sungchan grins. “shotaro!”

“oh yeah so y/n, this is my friend shotaro. shotaro this is y/n, the one who tutored me.” the young boy beams and you turn around bowing your head politely to shotaro. the Japanese bot sits down next to sungchan with a bright smile.

Shotaro kindly speaks as he watches you. “nice to meet you y/n.”

“you too shotaro. are you perhaps going studying?” you raise your eyebrows at the two boys who hum agreement in unison. looks like he’s actually going on study dates with shotaro, how cute. sungchan opens the book.

“i’m meeting shotaro with two other boys, Chenle and jisung, in our year. we’ll be at the boys dorms most of the night.”

you would wow proudly, watching sungchan finally doing study sessions on his own without it your help. there ran something so in your blood that would make you feel like you’re watching a friend who was getting independent finally. it really made you happy, more happy than about your own achievements. Shotaro gently sways leaning to y/n.

“do you want to join us y/n? the more the merrier.” shotaro said and you’d raise your head with a soft smile. “I appreciate the offer but i think i’ll just go home or something. i’ll be fine for tomorrows exam.”

sungchan boosts braggingly as he whispers to shotaro, but the whispering was clearly loud enough for you to hear in the dead silent library. “taro don’t worry about her, she’s the prodigy. there’s no way she will fail any of her exams .”

shotaro gently gasps watching y/n. he heard about the female prodigy but never did he think it would be you, or the fact that he’d meet her.

“y/n you’re the infamous student who has 100 on their classes?” the boy whispers loudly. you blink lightly confused.

why was it a big deal? you rub your neck nervously. “uhm yeah but it’s not a big deal.”

“don’t be so modest y/n! my brother is a prodigy as well and he complimented you so much. clearly it is a big deal, a thing to be proud of. so take claim to it.” sungchan bluntly tells as he shakes off your humble demure. Shotaro looks at Sungchan.

he frowns looking the tall boy up and down from where he sat next to. “if your brother is the prodigy, what happened to you?”

Shotaro blurts out and Sungchan’s jaw drops to the floor, ears growing lightly pink. he pouts soon as he scoffs. “yah what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean…you don’t have the best grades. If your bro is so smart what’s up with you?”

“i’m not a biologist so i dunno! i guess he took all the brain genes with him.” sungchan murmurs silently sulking at shotaro’s blunt questions. y/n would smile watching the two boys lightly bicker and speak amongst themselves now.

you soon bid goodbye to sungchan and shotaro when it got much darker, by the time you left the library and the university campus it was 8.00 at night. you would be knackered to say the least, you’re feeling by the time you finish this week’s exam your brain will be fried inside and out like it was a bare boneless chicken laying in the desert.

making your way to Jaehyun’s house wasn’t that far in fact, you took the bus there and then got off. the walk from the bus stop would’ve been about fifteen minutes. you were anticipating to see your boyfriend after so long, seconds away from him felt like years and days without him would equal to decades passing like the blooming spring. it felt cold and empty without his warm bubbly presence that keeps you awake on your feet like caffeine would do. You didn’t slow walk on your way to his house, you ran. You ran through the late night just so you’d see him sooner; your mind was creating scenarios of his face, of his voice, the way he’d welcome you.

god how much you missed him couldn’t be put into words. when you are stressed he was your de-stress reliever if anything. it’s just a shame that he’s graduated from uni and you still have a few to go. The way you long to be standing in front of his door, hand clenching in a ball out ready to knock two times then awaiting the door to swing open.

and when the time came, you did exactly that, knocking on the door as your feet stomp on the ground with a rush of adrenaline excitement. the way this felt like a happy ball of heaven to you. the black door pulls open revealing a tall man wearing a white oversize hoodie and those grey-black checkered pants that he favours over anything. if he could, he would wear these every single day, anywhere.

The sight of your lover standing wide open with arms out only for you to walk in, to run in, to jump and never let go off in; the corner of his eyes sparkling down at you the moment those dull iris orbits met you once again, ears smiling wide as his eyes wrinkle with happiness.

Your face mimics the same euphoric expression he deadpanned at you with freedom. You lung yourself at him tight curling up, just like a baby kangroo would of done to it’s mother. jumping in the pocket. Arms linking by the end of his neck, your body weight crushed him just the way he wanted, he missed you. Everything reminds him of you when you are gone, busy with life as anyone would be; but the way everything reminded him of you tortured him deeply with penetration in his heart.

It just made this whole moment more worth it though. He gently sweeps arms around you the moment you jump on him. He kicks the door closing it shut with his back. He’d focus on locking his hands on you and only you.

jaehyun brings you into his bedroom with a deep longing kiss on your lips. he brought you underneath where he sweeps his thumbs on the sides of your chubby apple cheeks, he then disconnects from your lips, attacking your entire face with his wet lips.

pecking your forehead, eyes that you close in motion, your beautiful nose. Jaehyun’s lips kiss your reddish cheeks that felt cold, he easily warms them up with the multiple kisses he dents on your body.

You squeak tapping his arms as you start to squirm. Eventually those lips slowly crawl down to your neck where he was just carried away. he was savouring the moment with you. Your breath going ragged.

“jae i’m not going anywhere!” you openly exclaim with a soft loving sigh leaving. he gives a one final deep smooch on your hands that you tap him previously. he felt the way you were cold still. “you weren’t gone for long but why does it feel like it was an eternity.”

he would say gazing into your eyes lovingly. You sit up taking off your jacket, he rolls off helping you with your bag too. The man didn’t even give you time to take off the outdoor clothes and shoes, but that doesn’t bother him, he didn’t care enough at the time. Jaehyun lovingly watches you do such simple chores, but why was he so struck by everything you do? Love really makes you feel brainwashed.

but in the best way possible.

You turn around where you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time. You lightly tease speaking, reaching to squish those loving bread dimples. “you keep watching me like i am some meal dish.”

he chuckles humming a bit with his husky deep voice that just makes you stop and listen no matter what. “i’m just watching my girl look so pretty from afar, can’t her boyfriend do that?”

he curls as he pulls you immediately to lay down with him on the warm bedsheets that smelled exactly like him, welcoming . You grin as your legs and thighs wrap around his own lower body, he made sure that his hands rest on your waist, carefully caressing up and down your hips and curvy waistline.

“her boyfriend can do whatever he wants.” you reply back leisurely, as he felt your fingertips push his long free luscious locks back. Twirling them round your thumb or lightly flipping it around. simply admiring how he was such a beautiful masterpiece.

She paints him a ray of sunshine on a night starry sky. That’s the only way it could define her and him together. He was the observer, the watcher, the viewer, the mere bystander. As she was the performance, the art, the extraordinary history.

You suddenly raise your eyebrows realising something. “we both agreed to a movie and ice cream, but the first thing we did was cuddle and lay in bed together.”

“i know right? But i think those can wait.” jaehyun tells as he sits up, leaning leisurely to your lips once again. he pecks it softly.

“i’d rather talk to you over a movie and ice cream anyday.”

your heart throbs scraping against your chest heavily, hearing such loving words that no one else expressed to you but only him. You reach upwards to kiss him on the lips with enough passion to get him riled up, he responded by pulling on your waist and crawling on top of you. The way your hands slip round the hem of the hoodie to pull, running your fingertips down his abs and abdomen.

You murmur soft sighs once those abused lips left and began to roam on your soft collarbones exposed by your loose blouse, he sucks on it very light enough to cause visible red marks. you pull off the hoodie which he obliged, letting you strip it off from his skin, letting you take your own control. He enjoys the way you openly do small detailed actions to catch him slipping, like the way your fingertips pull on his hair to deepen whatever he was doing. The way your thighs tackle his hips pulling your bodies even closer.

Your moans were a reward to him, especially those soft ones that slowly get louder. You become needier, you act on the neediness too, but you didn’t have to beg him. He will give you whatever you want, whatever you request, he is at your demise.

“I want you.” Those words leaving your gaping mouth as he slowly strips the blouse by the ribbon, taking it off your exposing body that he so dearly fell in love with all over again, the way you’re slightly smaller than him but you look as if you were carved out of the most fragile, beautiful lingering glass that was an antique to the world. Jaehyun softly hums above your bra, with his hands playing with to soon unclip it right off. He kisses above your cleavage.

“Then have me.” Jaehyun fully said as he sits up on the edge away from you now. You crawl slowly to him as you make yourself at home on his hard crotch, sitting right on it where your boyfriend could feel the soaking patches on your panties. He lightly groans as you softly dry hump on a specific spot.

It got him going feral, quite literally, as he tightly grips on the bedsheets. He lungs his head down, as you constantly do the same circling motions back and forth. You whimper when he tightly pressed you down on his hard crotch through the boxers fabrics

“please just, fuck me already.” you beg. jaehyun soothes your desperate cries by softly caressing your face.

“Patience is virtue baby.” he whispers, starting to hover your entire weight on the bed centre as he positions you underneath him. but a specific lining directly to the wide mirror in his room grazing over your lined bodies.

Then the most shocking words left his unbearable lips running on your body like it was a tug and war. He wishes to see everything, because this was both your first times together, though he was experienced and you weren’t; he wasn’t trying to scare you off with something dramatic. He wants to do you slow, enjoy this moment with him as much as you can. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he doesn’t wish to do anything extravagant.

When it comes to you, the simpler decision is always the best decision.

“I want to look at your face as we do it.” He states as your face was turning to the mirror on the side, you thickly gulp your abdomen squeeze. He hovers over your panties which he slips off, the way you had a puddle patch on the white underwear amazes him. The effect he has on you, will always have a clutch on him that he doesn’t know how or why.

You whimper as the new sensation of galloping mouth went straight without warning to topple you up like you were a meal to him. He acts on the pure lust running in his veins, but also the love that he wishes to push you to the most ecstatic high you will ever experience. The way your thighs squeeze together he was underneath, you watching him eat you out in vulgar raw manner, but the way there was a sense of love from him made you wetter than before.

You were a soaking mess. Jaehyun loved that, he didn’t care if you made a mess, he plans to make you his beautiful disaster.

“Ooh…fuck- im..” y/n warns with the body twitching unable to finish the last sentence as her orgasm approaches unexpectedly, he felt your insides ferrule round his long tongue exploring inside you, the taste of your high was soon approaching. The lush of wetness exploding on him tongue as left him kitten licking you clean, there was no way he would miss a single drop of you.

He lifts himself up pulling on your ankles, in which you look up seeing stars. The post orgasm has left you wanting for more, as you were left feeling high in another dimension. He sent you into another world.

He trails softly, kissing the inner thick thighs. “Mm, you taste divine, god. i want to feel you pulsing like that on my cock, so so badly.” you moan at the imagination, tugging on his boxers length.

“What’s stopping you?” you whisper as you ask him, he takes a moment to find the correct words. jaehyun leans in resting his forehead on top of yours, closing eyes. “i want you to enjoy your first time. At least, with me.”

you melt by the respectful yet considerate words, your hands wrap round his jaw, nodding softly. “I want this, as much as you want this.”

“so please, use me however you want.”

Use you. Those words ran through his head like a mantra chanting, then there it was, you were soon to realise that you fully triggered something inside your boyfriend in that moment. The way you have your permission, submitted to him with such bewitching words that left him thinking wonders and wonders of scenario is to use you.

He was absolutely ballistic over you. Jaehyun softly pins you down where he finally slings off the boxers, you face down to be met with a spring free huge length, in all honesty, you sorta lost the confidence when you met eyes with his raging hard boner.

You let out stutters of questions over questions. “I mean..I- will it even fit…babe..?” you whisper and jaehyun gives you the outmost soft look. he must’ve realised that you feel intimidating, but all he does to calm your sudden anxiety was with a gentle forehead kiss.

“It will baby, i’ll be really careful and slow with you.” you heard him tell as her aligned it with your entrance. At first you weren’t sure what to expect, but sooner than later you found out the answer to your exact thoughts. A piercing warm sensation stretched you out repeatedly but, carefully, you felt the amount of self control jaehyun had over him to not just ram in you because of how welcoming you were to his hard length.

You were clenching him like crazy, unable to push out the addictive pain feeling that made you want more. As your hands clenching on the bedsheets beneath your body weights; he hears you whisper desperately.

“Please move.” you direct him very slowly as he gives a soft nod, that is when the soft singular thrusts made you shrink in complete pleasure taking over your body.

Oh how loving you felt under your boyfriend who’s unforgiving thrusts were pushing in and in your walls constantly like it was a running a game of tag. The way you were crying with pleasure, tears piling in your ears, as your boyfriend gently wipes and shoos your hushing voice carefully, spilling words of affirmation at you.

He kept ramming about how you are doing amazing, that you’re like a drug keeping him tied to you, words of praising that you’re beautiful, and that you deserve everything in this world can give .

It was so hard to respond back but he couldn’t blame you, your body was doing all the telling. Clenching with every words he spoke with a big pulsing rush of electricity sent to him.

The way the reflection of you arching your body at the quicker pace of thrusts and pounds he gave in, he was watching your perfect body underneath him at his dispose of to use. Jaehyun, fell in love with you through a mirror all over again. As if it was love at first sight once again.

He can’t get enough of you truly. The way your night ends with I love you’s, kisses, you stay in each other’s accepting embraces and replay the memory back.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work, thank youU <3 reblog this fic and follow me for more to stay updated! It helps a girl out.

I’m writing this as I’m sick, I hope I didn’t make any mistakes LMAO. 😭

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!

This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece! 

This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)

Title: Princess

                                                 ϟ ϟ ϟ

It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.  

“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.  

With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.  

You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.  

Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”  

Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.  

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.  

“Oh, those eyes” 

“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.  

Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.  

“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.  

“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about. 

“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.  

“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.  

“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”  

There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh. 

“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.  

“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.

                                                             ϟ ϟ ϟ

This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.  

Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.  

However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.  

(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.  

“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.  

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.  

He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.  

”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.  

“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.  

“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.  

                                          ϟ ϟ ϟ

 A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.  

Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.  

Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.  

He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing. 

You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.  

Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.  

He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.  

Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.  

“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.  

What he would do to have you begging for him right now.  

His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.  

“Please, Draco...”

“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.  

“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”  

“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.  

“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.  

Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.  

“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.  

“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.  

Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.  

That was only for him, of course.  

“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.  

Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.  

“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.  

However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.

His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.

“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.  

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.  

You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.  

He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.  

Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin. 

Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.  

“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.  

Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.  

Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.  

With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.  

“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.  

The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.   

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.  

“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.  

With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.  

“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.  

“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.  

With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.  

“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”  

You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.  

You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.  

Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.  

Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you. 

“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”

                                               ϟ ϟ ϟ

 Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned. 

However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.  

To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.  

His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.  

He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.  

“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.  

“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.  

“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.  

In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.  

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face. 

Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.  

“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.  

“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up. 

“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.  

With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.  

“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.  

Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.

[saturnsummer]

flutter and kicks

notes: from lay's @/__ryubeom tweet + a pregnant solhwi anon ask. in headcanon form since it's more spontaneous! 

hello tumblr fam! i know, it’s been long... but ficfest and all has kept me kinda busy. a little different this time! a headcanon after a long time, since it’s more fun and easy on the eyes!

extra notes: drumstick reference to hospital playlist episode 4! a little reference to @scripturiends twitter au “dynasty” at the end. have fun! as usual, grammar mistakes by me!

attorney sol and prosecutor joon hwi have been married for a couple years, now well into their early thirties.

sol and joon hwi always take walks in the parks and wondered what it would be like if they had their own.

sol was initially hesitant, with her experience of broken families and having no dad figure. what makes her think her child could grow up in a loving family, if she didn't have one she could be a role model or look up to?

but joon hwi had it worse, having been an orphan from young, and raised by his uncle, his cousins, aunts and relatives ostracising him. yet, he still believed in the happy family he always wanted with sol.

he dreamt of kissing his kids good morning, sending them to school before going to work and sending his wife to work. on nights, they would work on their kid's homework together in fun ways and tuck them in bed after bedtime stories. they would spend the weekends at parks, meeting with seungjae's kid, and the children of their friends.

sol came round eventually, seeing how joon hwi never stopped believing. this time, it was different. joon hwi is not her father, nor is he her step father. he is han joon hwi, the man that saved her lives multiple times. han joon hwi, the man that stood by her when lee man ho was her biggest threat to her family. han joon hwi, the man who loves her, despite being a klutz in school.

he is han joon hwi, the man that loves her for every imperfection and perfection she has.

sol and joon hwi start trying for a baby, which is especially timely when kang sol's mom asks when is she gonna have a grandchild to hold and byeol pipes up saying she would love to have a brother as opposed to sister. (15 years with sisters have made her wonder what it would be to have a little baby boy in the house instead.)

a few weeks after their first time trying passes and sol has been feeling more tired. she's been busy with case after case at kang and park, so she doesn't think much.

only when she misses her period, she freezes. as stressed as she was, even in law school, she has never missed her period or was late. with shaky breaths, she wonders at the slightest chance of having a little life grow in her, as her hand unconsciously travels to her stomach.

sol is excited, but nervous at the thought that maybe nine to ten months later, she would have a child she can call her own in her arms.

over the weekend, sol raised this to joon hwi. joon hwi stops everything and even though he is beyond excited, he stays calm looking at how nervous sol is. together, they go out to get two pregnancy tests, where sol takes it.

the ten minutes of waiting were a complete torture for sol, as she paces back and forth.

"sol, stop pacing. you're going to burn a hole in our floor."

"joon! what- what if it really happens? i'm not ready! how are we ready? you just started your career in the prosecutor office, and i'm buried under cases! i can barely take care of my mom and byeol and myself, what about the child? oh no, what if i'm a bad mom?"

"honey, sit down. look, we'll get through this together okay? no one is ever ready for their first kid. remember seungjae-hyung? he freaked out the day juyeon-noona went into labour and he's a doctor! it's okay, just calm down, alright? do you want warm water?"

when the timer rings, they look at both the tests, showing the double lines indicating a positive test.

sol was pregnant. sol was going to be a mother. joon hwi was going to be a father. their family was starting.

shaking, sol finally let her emotions hit as her tears fall. she was so caught up worrying about herself, life, her work, family; she hadn't had time to process her own feelings on her own. she wanted the feeling of joy of holding her child. she wanted to know what it was like to share a mother's bond with a child.

joon hwi, looking at his wife, only hugged her as she teared up in happiness. his dream of having a family is finally coming. even better, his best friend, his biggest cheerleader, was next to him.

"what are you crying about? you should be happy!"

"j-joon h-hwi ah... we're going to be parents.."

but their journey was far from over. they booked an appointment with juyeon and made juyeon stay quiet about this. seeing the ultrasound and hearing the heartbeats of their unborn child was enough to move sol to another round of sobs and joon hwi held his wife's hand while the tears ran down his face. together, they smiled, knowing that a life was born and growing.

all could have been hidden, but seungjae walked in that moment, asking if his wife wanted to join for lunch. sol and joon hwi were prepared to lie, but having a printed ultrasound scan in their hands, and the fact that they were in juyeon's clinic, a OB-GYN clinic, confirmed suspicions.

"juyeonnie, do you want to go for— joon...hwi?"

"oppa..."

"ah, congratulations sol. congratulations joon hwi." seungjae only smiled looking at the best people he knew become parents. he recognised the pride in joonhwi's eyes, the same eyes he had when juyeon told him they were expecting.

the new parents smiled at their brotherly figure as they wished them a good lunch.

but out from the corner, yeseul spotted joonhwi and sol as she walked into the clinic and she locked eyes with sol. sol slams the door shut and drags joon hwi back and groans, letting a defeated whine.

"sol-ah, what's wrong?"

"yeseul is here! she's probably here for a regular check up, the one she told me about last month!"

and with that, their phones started beeping with countless notifications.

yeseul could put two and two together, especially when it wasn't just sol, but joon hwi in the clinic as well. she texted her boyfriend, bokgi, who spat out his soup when he was eating with yebeom, who sent a string of messages to the group chat.

when sol opens the door again, yeseul only gives a sheepish smile.

"yeseul ah..." sol sighs and joon hwi only smiles, too happy to hide this secret.

"sorry unnie, i can't miss the moment. congrats unnie, oppa! hello, seungjae-oppa, juyeon-unnie!"

"thank you, yeseul. we'll see you next week, as usual?"

behind them, seungjae grumpily argues with his wife.

"why are my ex-classmates seeing you more than i do? i literally work, like, five blocks down at the police station! they live all over seoul!"

"honey, let me see yeseul first, okay? then let's go get lunch. i heard they are serving drumsticks in the canteen today.”

-----

pregnancy wasn't easy for sol. she insisted on working, despite attorney park's orders to take on lesser cases in court. sol couldn't find it in her heart to reject her clients.

yeseul, working closer to sol, would lunch with her to make sure she eats for the sake of her baby. joon hwi did his best to join, despite sol's arguments to not bother and that she can care for herself.

her morning sickness was bad, and she would wake up giddy and nauseous. many times, joon hwi wanted to call jiho to ask him to cover him, but sol would not let him do it. she'll pull herself together and go to work, and promise to take work lightly.

on days she couldn't get out of bed and she was too tired, her mother would come over and cook her nutritious soups, stock their fridge with vitamins and supplements and tonics for sol.

sol's cravings were also odd. she was never one to like sweets, but she found herself craving sugary cakes, cookies and pastries. joon hwi made it a point to stock their cabinets with cookies and buy a cake whenever he could for his wife.

joon hwi was honestly the best husband anyone could ask for. he helped to tidy the house, clean the house while sol was resting. he made soups and tucked sol in bed on her down days.

sol felt bad that she was being cared for and doing nothing in return, but joon hwi would always remind her that she was already doing the most important job, which is to literally grow their kid inside her.

many nights before bed, they would sit together and their hands would rest on her stomach, as they whisper sweet things to their to-be child.

when sol first felt the kick of her child with joon, they smiled so wide, all exhaustion from reports and arguments in their offices were gone. all that mattered was their child responding.

yeseul was beyond excited, as she helped sol with getting furniture and clothes. the study group came together to help them set up a new cot in their small apartment, as the ladies sat while looking at the men, fixing a cot with much difficulty.

aunty yeseul was the first to buy a stuffed bunny for her unborn child, and sol b, even though she was usually cold, offered to babysit in the future.

eventually, attorney park made sol work at home instead of going to the office. she argued that professor kim eunsook was able to teach while pregnant, but attorney park only said "yang jonghoon's orders" and it was enough to shut her up from any complaints.

of course, professor yang. the only person attorney park really is afraid of and listens to.

when they found out that sol was having a boy, joon hwi was lost in thoughts, wondering if he will grow to be like himself. but sol only placed a hand over his and gave a comforting smile.

"remember what you said at the beginning? whatever it is, he will be of the next generation. from him, it will be different."

they then would discuss how they wanted joon hwi's dimples, sol's twinkling eyes and cheekbones and joon hwi's charming smile.

closer to the due date, jiho stepped in to cover for joon hwi as he started to work half days, afraid of leaving his wife at home. sol, now heavily pregnant, really only commuted to the bed from the bathroom and then to the table, where she would spend most of her time reading or doing something relaxing.

yeseul made sol put her on speed dial with sol b, just in case, and so they would be the first to know too.

the morning came when sol woke up to a wet bed and shook joon hwi awake when the contractions kicked in. joon hwi snapped out, grabbed their hospital bag and guided sol to the car where both of them spent the next day in the hospital as sol went through nine hours of labour pains, and another two hours pushing her baby boy.

joon hwi never left once, standing by her side and holding her hand as she pushed her baby out, wiping away the sweat from her face.

when the time came for him to be held in his mother's arms, sol only smiled, knowing that as tough as the past ten months of working, no caffeine and staying up late nights was, it was all worth it for the little life in her arms.

as his son's hand grabbed onto joon hwi's finger, joon hwi made a promise to love this child unconditionally, to guide him in the right direction and bring him up well. sol was right. from him onwards, it will be different.

welcome to the world, seungjun.

[omlwhatamidoinghere]

Mr. Moreno

Chapter 3: Off-Campus Housing

Summary: Marcus decides it's time for some new scenery during your tutoring session

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, teacher x f!student, daddy kink/age kink (all parties are above the age of 18)

Word Count: 3,347!

Check out my masterlist!

_________________

Life has been great!

You're getting good grades, your dad just got a promotion he's been waiting 4 years for, your psychology research was accepted to be part of the department's upcoming journal, and- most importantly- you're sleeping with your professor. Well...maybe "sleeping with" isn't the correct terminology.

The multiple rendez-vous with Mr. Moreno have consisted of him going down on you, you going down on him, your hands down each other's pants and pretty much everything except the main event. That's the one thing he won't do. Yes, you two have definitely had some fun times but he won't go past eating you out and you sucking his cock. Ever since his wife passed, he hasn't had the urge to be with another person in that way. The day he met you, things started to change.

=======

Marcus' daughter, Missy, even noticed he was acting weird that day and confronted him about it. Taking him by the hand to the living room, she sat him down on the couch, "Dad, who is she?" Immediately turning red, "W-what? Who- what are you...I don't...I'm...she's not- she's...why are you-"

"Dad" The pose she strikes radiates the sass that she definitely got from him.

A sigh passes through his lips, "She's...she's just someone I met at work-"

"Someone you LIKE!" Missy cuts him off. She has never seen her dad act this way. She's only heard the stories of how he acted around her mom before they started dating, he must really like this girl.

======

It's not that Marcus hasn't thought about having sex with you- he has and does often- the silver ring that remains on his finger, encompassing the relationship he once had, stirs up this feeling of guilt if he were to have sex with another woman. Even though he knows his late wife wants him to move on and be happy, Marcus still doesn't feel right doing so.

Thank the stars it's the end of the week! Between finishing your project for Mr. Moreno's class and conducting more research for the psychology department, you've been stressed out of your mind. Not only was this week busy, but you also have a test in one of your classes next week. At least today the university decided to give everyone a rest day and treat them to a three-day weekend, even though you're spending it by coming to campus to have Mr. Moreno look over your project. A pleased sigh leaves your lips as you enter the classroom, greeted by a grin from the leader of the Heroics, who is currently talking to one of his fellow teammates, Miracle Guy. He notices his loss of Marcus' attention, immediately realizing who you are, "Well hello there! I've heard so much about you!" If you weren't in the classroom right now, Marcus probably would have knocked him right in the chest. Instead, he turns his head slowly back towards Miracle Guy, his face plastered with a look that can only be taken as 'you need to shut up'.

Setting your bag down as your gaze meets the Heroic's, you're taken back by his last statement, "You...you have?"

"Yeah! Mr. Moreno talks about you all the time! He's always saying how his favorite student is extremely smart and well-rounded!"

Your heart pounds in your ears, hoping Miracle Guy sees past the shade of red currently radiating from your face. You glance over at Marcus and feel heat grow between your legs. If he could kill with a look, Miracle Guy would be dead on the floor right now. The intensity of his stare is enough to make you drop to your knees right there. Your gaze lingers a little too long when Marcus looks over to you and notices your lip between your teeth, his glare changes tones at the sight. The look that fills his wonderfully dark eyes, the same lust-filled look from when he peers up at you from between your legs, causes a flutter deep inside.

"Just fuck each other already!"

Both of you snap from your trance over to Miracle Guy, "What? It's so obvious you both want it! I figured with how much you talk about her, Marcus, that you were already fucking her but I-"

Marcus cuts him off, grabbing his arm and dragging him into his office as you follow with your bag. Shutting the door, Marcus pushes him down into a chair, "We HAVE done stuff." The look on Miracle Guy's face slips to a state of confusion, "But...wait....I thought you said....you told me you haven't..." a sigh passes through Marcus' lips, "We haven't had sex. But we've done other things." A blush dusts your cheeks, Miracle Guy slowly picking up on what Marcus means, "Oooohhhhhhhh....nice! See? Still know how to treat a woman even as an old man-"

"I'm not that old."

"And I really don't care about the age difference." You chime in. Both of them turn to you, "Plus, he's the only man I know that doesn't act like a twelve-year-old," you start to mumble, "Not to mention he's really sexy..."

"What was that?" Marcus leans towards you in hopes of you repeating what you just said. Miracle Guy starts to push, "Yeah I heard you say something but I couldn't tell what it was-"

"I said he's really sexy. Just because he's older doesn't mean he isn't sexy."

Marcus' face matches the embarrassed shade of your own, "You...you think I'm sexy?" Your eyes turn to meet his, "Well yeah! Have you seen yourself?" Miracle Guy remains with his jaw on the floor as the two men take in what you said. A few minutes pass before anyone says anything again, "I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice to finally meet you!" Miracle Guy reaches out to shake your hand. Reaching out to shake his, "A pleasure to meet you as well! Hopefully next time we run into each other it won't be as awkward. Thanks for not telling anyone." With a nod, he steps out of the office, leaving you and Marcus. His eyes lock on yours as he closes the distance between your bodies. Warm, strong hands gently caress your arms, his breath is hot against your ear, "So...you think I'm sexy?" His voice, deep and husky as he moves down to your neck. His teeth graze your skin, a gasp leaves your lips, "Marcus..." His name is a soft whisper filled with desperation. You move your hand up to his hair, your fingers running through each strand causing Marcus to release a low growl against your neck as he continues leaving marks. "Marcus, wait...I need you to....I came in to...-" his lips still on your neck, "Tell me baby." "Why is it so difficult to say something as easy as I came in to see if you could look at my paper?" This man has so much power over you and all he's done so far today is kiss your neck and whisper in your ear. Granted, you can't help but think of all the things he's done to you previously. Stars, you can't help but imagine how amazing he must be in bed...so strong...taking control of you...- see this? This is why he has so much power over you; you can't stop thinking of him. "Baby?" His glasses bump into your jaw as he pulls back to look at you, "What is it?"

"I came in to see if you...um...if you could look over my project?"

His look of realization as he fixes his glasses makes you giggle, "I completely forgot about that...I saw your email and everything and I was going to write you back but then Miracle Guy called and said he was coming in to visit and I got distracted but yes I would love to look over your project." Grabbing your paper out of your bag, still flustered from everything that just happened prior to this moment. Handing it to Marcus, you both take a seat at his desk. He reads over it, paying attention to every detail, biting his lip in concentration. "What the hell? Can you think about anything other than him bending you over his desk and- who are you kidding, of course you can't." He notices your gaze drifting off as he peeks up at you from your paper, "Sweetheart..." You don't hear him talking to you as your mind continues to wander, "...his hands on you...his lips on your body...with how he big he feels in your mouth imagine how he feels in your-" he tries to get your attention again, "Hello? Are you alright?" Still not hearing him, "...and his beard against your skin, especially on your neck and between your thighs..." You still don't notice him as he walks around his desk and leans back against it right in front of you, "Sweetheart, are you alright?" Finally, you come back to your senses. Feeling extremely embarrassed, your cheeks flush red, giving away exactly what was going on in your thoughts. A smirk decorates Marcus' face while he rolls up his sleeves, drawing your attention to his now exposed forearms. "What was going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?" Even though you two have done a lot together, you still avert your gaze from his, still too shy to admit the dirty thoughts you have of him...not to mention how often you think those thoughts. He gently grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. Pulling you closer, Marcus' lips barely graze against yours, his breath hot on your skin. His voice drops into a low gravely tone, "Tell Daddy what you were thinking about, all those dirty thoughts that I know run through your mind...be a good girl and tell me..." Your breath leaves your body in a soft moan. Trying to collect yourself, "I was...I-I was thinking of....umm...you...your...uh..I..."

"If you tell me, I just may do it..."

A gasp powers you to kind of form a sentence, "I w-was thinking about you...and what you do to me...and the all the things you could do to me...being underneath you...nearly breaking whatever you're pounding me into..." Marcus lets out a low moan as he pulls you in and kisses you, his tongue already finding its way past your lips. The sounds you make in response cause him to press against his pants. His hands find their way into your hair and on your lower back, pulling you closer. He continues to moan as you kiss, "Damn he's so hot when he moans. Oh my STARS I want to really hear him moan" He pulls back, his hands still on you, "Baby, we should go somewhere..." slightly confused on his comment, "What? Where would we..what do you mean?" His eyes grow dark with lust again, "Some place where we won't get caught when I make you scream my name so much you forget your own..." A whimper escapes your lips faster than you can process Marcus' words. "I'll take that as a yes. Where should we go sweetheart?" You pause a moment to consider, "Well, my apartment is two minutes away. I can send you my address and you can meet me over there." Giving you another kiss before pulling back again, "Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in a few." As you fix yourself up and start to walk away, Marcus quickly reaches out, giving you a quick smack, winking at you with a cheeky grin when you turn to look back at him.

You make it to your car and back to your apartment within a few minutes. Racing inside, you see that none of your roommates are home, remembering they left for the weekend. Quickly climbing the stairs up to your room, you change your bra and underwear to the set you just bought a few days ago, put some dirty clothes in the laundry basket and make sure everything is cleaned up, not forgetting to light a nice candle to set the mood a little more. A few minutes pass and you hear a car door as a text pops up on your screen

"Come open the door, baby ;)"

Trying not to fall down the stairs as you eagerly skip steps, you finally reach the door. Doing one last appearance check, you open the door. On the other side, Marcus leans with one arm against the door frame, closing the gap between your bodies as soon as the door closes behind him. His lips almost on yours, "Where's your room?" Grabbing onto his tie, you pull him in for a kiss, "Up the stairs, the door next to the bath-" before you could finish your sentence, Marcus had you up and over his shoulder, walking up the stairs. Reaching behind him, he waves his hand and locks the door. Once he reaches your room, he lays you down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing on top of you, that familiar look floods his deep eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, sweetheart." Giving him a smirk, "You have no idea how many times I've gotten myself off to the thought of you." His lips meet yours in a heated clash. Your arms find their way around his neck as his hands find the button to your jeans. Marcus pulls back to slip off your shirt before kissing down your body; on your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, down your chest, past your stomach. Carefully sliding your jeans off, he continues to kiss your body as it becomes exposed. Soft whimpers from you and groans from Marcus fill the room, his lips never leaving your skin. His teeth grab onto your thigh, forcing a loud moan to escape from your throat. Marcus peers up at you with that infamous look of his, "Ooo, baby likes that, doesn't she?" He bites down on you again, getting the same reaction as before, "You sound so pretty. So good for me." His words only turn you on more. "P-please....please....I..I-I need..." He moves back up to your face, "What is it sweetheart?" You moan breathily in his ear, "I need you. Please, Mr. Moreno..." The groan that comes from his lips makes you even hotter for him, your wetness growing rapidly. Even in class, when you call him "Mr. Moreno", your innocent voice masking your filthy intent, his zipper threatens to break from how hard his cock gets. Burying his face in your neck, Marcus' mustache scratching against your delicate skin, "Say it again," his voice dropping to a growl, "say my name again." His hips begin to create friction between your legs while he awaits your response. The things this man does to you, you feel as if you could get off just from him grinding into you as his voice resonates through your soul. Biting the bottom of your ear, he forces sounds to escape your lips but no words can form, "Come on, baby. Be a good girl for me"

"Mr. Moreno, pleeeaaassee"

His lips travel back down your body as he begins to pull you apart, thread by thread. Settling back between your thighs, his hot breath sends a shiver through you. His tongue licks through your folds, already drenched and melting in his touch. "Already so wet for me, baby" he slips two fingers inside you, "How often have you gotten yourself off to the thought of me, baby?" A moan brings an answer to your lips, "All the time...I think about you all the time....think about you touching me...your strong arms around my waist...your hands on me...you-your fingers...doing..."

"Doing this?"

A curve in his fingers guides you closer to the edge. His name escapes your mouth in a chant, the only word your mind can conjure. The sounds you sing only make his aching stronger and stronger until he snaps, "Baby, I need to be inside of you." Your head moves to meet his eyes as he carefully takes his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth. A groan rumbles through his chest as he cleans them off, keeoing eye contact the entire time. Biting your lip, you hold back a moan as you watch Marcus undress before you, taking in the jaw-dropping sight of his naked body. You sit up and crawl to meet him at the foot of the bed, your hands discovering his skin, your lips are soft against his tanned and toned chest. His hands gently push against your shoulders, "As nice as that feels, there's something tighter I wanna feel around me. Be a good girl and lay back for Daddy." The growl sounding like a command, you do as he tells you. Climbing on top of you, his hands land on either side of your head, dragging your focus up his flexed muscles and to his lustful eyes. You can see the hesitation behind his prowling gaze. Arms and legs wrapping around him, "It's alright, Marcus. I want you inside of me." Quickly wrapping himself with you still hanging on him, he lines his cock up with your dripping entrance, carefully pushing into you. Moans rip through your apartment as he takes it slow, easing you onto his size. "I'm gonna start moving, alright baby?" You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, "Okay. I'm ready."

Easing himself out of you so it's only the tip of his cock left inside, he pushes in slightly harder than before, still adjusting to you, "Ugh....your so tight baby...so tight for Daddy...so wet..." His lips entertain the delicate skin of your neck,your moans and whimpers echoing in his ears, flipping a switch that send his hips into a faster pace. The skin about his cock passes over your clit with every thrust, taking you higher and higher. Your eyes meet as he moves his head back, your lips grazing as you pant against each other. Marcus leans into you depper than before, his mouth meeting yours just in time to swallow the yelp that soars from you. His tongue dancing on your lips, begging for entrance. Parting them slightly, he groans at the feel of you. His kisses travel to your jaw before his lips guide his breath against your ear, "Good girl. Moan for me, baby. Your sound make me want to fuck you until you can only think of me...what I do to you...how much I stretch you..." His husky voice rattles you to the core, clenching tight around his cock. "I'm gonna...please let me come, sir." Marcus pulls back again to look into your eyes, "Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy. You're such a good girl for me." Your climax slams into you at his words just as he chases his release.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls you to his chest, "That...that was...I haven't done that in forever. Was it okay?" You turn your head up to look at him, "Okay? Marcus that was the best sex I've ever had! You really know how to treat a woman." You both chuckle, "Thank you, honey. That means a lot. But..um...what you said earlier about me to Miracle Guy..."

"Y-yes?"

"Is it true?"

"Marcus, I wouldn't lie about that. You're really fucking sexy."

"Honey you're too-"

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

Marcus' phone begins to ring. Reaching over carefully as not to disturb your comfortable position, he answers it. Still trying to catch his breath, "Hello?"

"Hey pal, it's Miracle Guy. Make sure you turn off your talk to text next time you and hot stuff get together"

Taglist: @no-droids @autumnleaves1991-blog @absurdthirst @velvetmel0n @wyn-n-tonic @leaderoftheheroics @finerthisboutique

[jeonglixie]

[12:45am] “Can we…get out of here?”

The boy gave you a worried look but he nodded and grabbed your hand. You made your way through the drunken crowd.You took a deep breath as you stepped outside. Chan didn’t say anything,he just placed a hand on your back and slowly rubbed it.

“Are you ok,what happened?” he rasped after a while.

“I just…don’t feel like being in there right now.” you whispered.

“Are you drunk?”

You shook your head.Chan hummed and went towards his motorcycle.

“Let’s go.”

“W-where?”

“You’ll see.”

—–

You got to know Chan in the third year of college. You always saw him around campus with his friends,Jisung and Changbin,but you never really got a chance to speak to any of them. It’s like they all screamed trouble,their aura intimidating. So you’d either find them together or each of them alone.

Changbin seemed the scariest of them,his eyes piercing through your soul. You guessed you shouldn’t make mad this one.His hands full of tattoos and you were sure if he were to show more skin, there’d be more of them.

Jisung was more of a piercings guy,one on his left eyebrow and his ears full of them. He always seemed so confident and you could swear he screamed fuckboy.

Chan caught your attention first as you got more classes together. He seemed like a friendly one,but he didn’t really talk to anyone.He got that attractive smile that showed his dimples,on top of it, he got piercings on them. He’d usually sit in every class with his laptop and headphones. He was probably producing? You heard this trio was into music and rapping somewhere. You wondered if he ever paid attention to class though.

You were the exact opposite, cause other than staring at him before class started, was hanging from the professor’s lips and taking notes.That’s why he actually approached you the first time.

You were terrified when you turned your head to see who tapped your shoulder and met the familiar blonde haired boy.

Fuck,did he saw me staring?

When he politely asked if he could take your notes,all you could do was nod and give him your notebook with a half smile.

“Y/N right?”

“U-uh? Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’ll return this tomorrow,yeah? Thanks.” he winked,gave you a dimpled smile and left.You sighed in relief and made your way out of the class.

Little did you know he indeed saw you staring.

—–

Since then,in every class,he would usually sit next to you and sometimes have a small talk or flirt just to tease you. Then,a group assignment happened and he asked to be your partner. It was the first time you ever saw so much music equipment on someone’s house,as you stepped in his room.

You finished the assignment rather quickly and he suggested you should stay for a while and hang out. You should’ve known he didn’t really have something innocent in mind when he did so. Like that,one thing led to another and he ended up fucking you on his couch and probably giving you the best orgasm you ever had.

“We can do this a casual thing,if you want.” he told you as you stepped out of his apartment.

You didn’t really have something to lose,and as you needed some way to relieve stress,you agreed.

“No strings attached though,I’m…not really a relationship guy.”

“Sure.”

—–

Months passed and your relationship stayed the same; you hang out and fucked, sometimes you just enjoyed each other’s company. The intimidating guy turned out to be one of the kindest persons you knew. And that probably was going to be the death of you. Cause as the time passed,you weren’t attracted only by his body. You could tell he wasn’t feeling the same way though,as he immediately turned cold when you got intimate. No cuddles after sex,no staying over. That didn’t mean he wasn’t the softest when it came to aftercare. But then reality hit him and turned back at being his usual self again. That’s how he was. Hot and cold.

Jisung and Changbin weren’t that bad either. Jisung was funny, talkative and a little cocky but he was a nice guy overall.

It took a while for Changbin to open up to you. He would usually act like you weren’t there most of the time. He didn’t seem to like the relationship you and Chan had, he thought everything happened too quickly and Chan didn’t know you that well when he suggested the whole friends with benefits thing.

So when you went over to Chan last week and he opened the door instead of him,you knew this was going to be awkward.

“He won’t take long,you can wait for him.”

“O-ok.”

You both sat on the couch, awkward silence filled the room. You grabbed your phone and scrolled through your apps to keep yourself occupied.After a while he sighed.

“Chan’s ex girlfriend was a horrible person. She really fucked him up.”

Your eyes widened and your head snapped towards him. His eyes anywhere but you.

“She used him,had a good time,then she cheated on him and just left. He really had a hard time getting over that bitch.”

“So when he told me about you and the whole arrangement thing you have, I knew this won’t go well. That idiot really doesn’t think before he acts…”

“Look, I love Chan, he’s my best friend and I’ve known him for years. He’s not that kind of person. He’ll eventually catch feelings and I don’t want him to get hurt. So I’ll be clear. If you don’t care about him,get the fuck out of his life before it’s too late.”

His gaze now on you. If eyes could kill you would really be dead by now. You felt shivers down your spine but that didn’t stop you from responding, feeling slightly offended by his words.

“I know where you’re coming from. But I can tell Chan has no feelings for me and-”

“If you open your mouth to say bullshit babygirl then shut it.”

Your jaw dropped.He stood up and casually walked to the door and opened it with a smirk.

“I think I was clear.”

You felt your blood boiling. Not only he didn’t let you speak and explain,he also got that smug look on his face you really wanted to punch. You jumped from the couch and stomped towards him,fuming as you grabbed and slammed the door shut.

“Listen here Seo Changbin” you aggressively placed your index finger at his chest. “I don’t care what the fuck you are to Chan or how long you know him or whatever, but that doesn’t give you the right to assume I’m the same shitty person like his ex. I care about him as much as you do and like hell I would hurt him. The only idiot here is me for throwing myself in a situation like that and then catching up feelings. So don’t fucking worry about your friend getting hurt,he doesn’t give a fuck about my feelings and I don’t plan on telling him about them so he won’t feel guilty.”

You were sure you were screaming at this point and by Changbin’s surprised face,you knew you went overboard. You didn’t realize tears were running down your cheeks till you stopped and took a deep breath.

“Hey,are you-”

“Keep it. You said enough Seo.”

The boy didn’t really have time to act as you quickly went over the couch and grabbed your things,then ran and opened the door to leave.You froze when the first thing you saw while getting out was Chan’s surprised face. Your eyes locked for a split second before you felt more tears forming and you ran past him.

That probably was going to be the last time you’ll see him.

—–

One week passed and you didn’t really speak with Chan. You’d see him at the class but he was sitting nowhere near you and didn’t even spare a glance. You figured out he heard everything then and just didn’t want commitment. You were heartbroken of course but that was your fault. Chan said from the start he didn’t want a relationship.Jisung texted you and asked you to go to the party he was throwing but you didn’t really feel like doing this right now.

You were going back to your apartment as you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

unknown number: hey this is Changbin

unknown number: I know this is kind of random but can we meet at the café near campus? I have to talk to you

You: ok,sure

You opened the door of the café and the strong smell of coffee and cinnamon hit you. You spotted Changbin sitting on a table near the window. His face turned to you when he heard the door open and he gave you a small smile.

“Hey..”

You sat on the opposite side of the table.

“Sorry if that caught you off guard.I guess you’re not that happy to meet me,after what happened last time.”

You shook your head.

“No I….I was indeed kinda surprised but it’s ok. What did you want to talk about?”

Changbin let out a shaky sigh.

“I wanna apologize. I really was an asshole.”

“When you left,I tried to speak to Chan but he didn’t really want to. He avoided mentioning the whole thing,but I could see he was struggling.”

“I thought a lot about this too. I was overprotective and from the start I treated you like a parasite. And that’s a dick move.”

“You’re a person with feelings too and I can tell you hurt as much as Chan did. And it wasn’t your fault,as I wanted it to be. I won’t blame Chan either. He’s confused and scared.”

“I told you many times I care about him and I want him to be happy. He seems happy with you and I can tell he’s missing you more than anything. So I just couldn’t sit back and watch you both get hurt just because you’re scared to admit your feelings.”

“So…I want you to come to Jisung’s party tomorrow. You two have to talk.”

You stood silent for a while.

“Changbin…I’m not sure what to say…”

“You don’t really have to say something. Just please,come and talk to him.” He reached your hand on the table and smiled bitterly before he stood up and left.

You sat there,trying to comprehend what just happened. After a while you stood up and left as well.

The next day,you felt anxious as you dressed up and stepped out of your apartment. You didn’t know how this would go and definitely weren’t ready to get your heart crushed but you had to get over this.

When you stepped in Jisung’s apartment people were already wasted,dancing on the music. You first spotted Changbin and his eyes widened as you made eye contact,a grin slowly appeared on his lips.

“You came.” he yelled over the loud music. “Thank you.”

You smiled.

A gasp left your lips as suddenly someone pushed Changbin out the way and you met Jisung’s ecstatic face.

“Y/N oh my God you came! I’m so happy! Here try this,I made it!” he mumbled and shoved a cup with a questionable drink at your face.

“I don’t think so.”

“Please? Please, please, please, for me?”

You let out a sigh.

“Ok,ok,here.” you drank the liquid and winced as it burned your throat.

Jisung looked satisfied and quickly went back to the kitchen, probably to grab a second one.

“Where’s Chan?” you asked Changbin.

“I’m sure he’s around here,we were talking just before you-”

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Chan,a surprised look on his face.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t think you would come.”

“Trust me,me neither but he-” you stopped as you looked around and Changbin was nowhere to be found.

This motherfucker.

Chan tilted his head but you mouthed a “nevermind” and you both stood there awkwardly.

Minutes passed and you felt anxiety bubbling up your chest. Why did you even listen to Changbin in the first place? This was a bad idea. You weren’t ready to talk with Chan yet. The loud music started ringing at your ears,you had a hard time breathing,it felt suffocating. You felt Chan tap on your shoulder.

“Hey,are you ok?”

—–

And that’s how you ended up here,behind Chan,holding him tight as you passed by the busy roads.

His bike stopped as you reached a hill outside the city,the view breathtaking as you watched down the flicking lights. Chan took off his helmet and placed it on his bike. You both stayed silent.

After a while he reached in his pocket,took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. A bad habit,Jisung once said,he always pulls when he’s stressed. It was the only thing you hated about him.

“I guess you heard me.” you finally spoke. “When I screamed at Changbin.”

“Yeah…”

“That day he told me about your ex….but he was quite rude so we ended up like this.”

Chan cracked a smile.

“I thought you were going to come out and take my head or something back there,I won’t lie.”

You couldn’t help but giggle,but your smile faded quickly.He inhaled the cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nose.

“Chan,I genuinely like you. And you know I’ll never hurt you,right?”

Chan felt a pang at his chest. He sucked a deep breath.

“It’s not like you don’t know already,but I’m scared. I’m scared to give my heart to someone and be vulnerable. I’m scared everything’s going to end up the same way.”

“Thought it could work like that. Having sex,no feelings. But sometimes I can’t help but crave more. Since when I got to know you better I needed more.”

“But it’s fucked up. How my brain works. I really want to trust you but I-”

He stopped and let out a frustrated sigh. He liked you,right? Then what was holding him back?

“I don’t know…”

You both fell silent. You didn’t really know what to say at a time like this. You wish you’d know what was going on in his mind right now,he looked so lost. Your eyes fell on his plump lips as he inhaled once again the cigarette.

“Stop doing that…” you said,your voice shaking. “You’re hurting yourself…”

You meant smoking or overthinking? Chan couldn’t tell. He scoffed and his eyes turned at the trembling city lights.

After a while he dropped the remaining cigarette on the ground and stomped it.

“Fuck this,let’s…go at my place.”

His features now hardened,his expression unreadable. You just nodded.

—–

You knew when you’d step in his house he’d probably slam you on the wall and have his way with you. That’s how Chan was. Cold and dominant, he loved to have you begging.

But that night you and Chan didn’t fuck. He made love to you. Heart on his sleeve as he softly kissed your face. You never saw that side of him. Slow and passionate,he touched you like you’d break.

You felt drunk,loved even.

When he finally slipped in you,you were far too gone to see the tears running down his face. He thrusted into you desperately, trying to cope with all these overwhelming emotions. You both came with you screaming his name and him groaning yours. He slowly then made his way to the bathroom to grab a towel. He stopped as he glanced his reflection at the mirror; all he could see was a coward with eyes red from crying,his puffy face making him wince. He returned not long after to find you still on the bed,eyes half closed,your breathing back to normal. Sleep immediately knocked you out after he cleaned you up with the soft towel.

You didn’t see his eyes glistening at the moonlight.You didn’t see how he sat at the edge of the bed,face in his palms.

You didn’t see him smoking his last cigarette and throwing the almost full pack at the trash.

That night, Chan promised himself he won’t run away. He’d stay here with you,even if that meant he could get hurt again.

[adam-banks2024]

Bliss

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Adam steals you during a long study session to go play some hockey like the good old days.

The scent of parchment paper filled the Great Hall, along with that of fresh ink. You could see it shine on the paper if you were seated directly in front of a tall window. The most light comes through during sunrise and sunset, but at the time I’m studying, I wasn’t there during those hours. 

It was almost noon on a Saturday, but here I am, studying. These tables were a place I usually enjoyed, mostly because of the large quantities of food, but it soon had become the place that gave me migraines and a strong urge to doze off every now and then. 

Ever since I started my sixth year, the advanced potions class had turned into a monstrosity that I wasn’t sure I could handle. At first, it started with a few trips to the hall every month. Then it turned into weeks...and now I’m studying during most of my free time. 

I can’t understand why I’m struggling with this class in particular. In all of my other classes, I’m performing above average. Apparently, I just can’t get the hang of “the art that is potion-making.” God, if I hear one more uninspiring word from Snape I might jump from the Ravenclaw tower.

At this point I had been studying for at least four hours now, and I hadn’t even eaten anything that would resemble breakfast. Unless two stale crackers count. The best part about the whole situation is that I had only managed to memorize the ingredients of one potion in my whole time studying. One. So, still, I must persist. Because I do not want to spend a study hall with Snape. I let my grade fall once and suddenly I found out how awkward and unsettling an hour with the professor was. It’s not like he would even help me. He just told me to read from the book and stared at me the whole time. As much as I hate to admit it, having no time to relax was better than spending any extra time with Snape than I had to

As I reached across the table for more ink, a separate hand was already there. 

“Hey.”

 A long, dark robe hung from his shoulders, and a green and grey scarf was loosely wrapped around his neck. His cheeks and nose had a blush, while the rest of his face appeared icy. He carried a bag with him that had unorganized papers going every which way. 

“Oh hey, Adam. How’ve you been?”

Adam passed the vial to me and I dipped my quill. He put his belongings on the table and sat on the bench. 

“Pretty good. You?” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the mess. 

“Eh. I’ve been better.” My voice was laced with tiredness and a pang of hunger. Nothing that would have been noticed, though. 

He paused for a moment and then spoke again. “What’s wrong, Snape got you down because he couldn’t meet for a study session?” 

I snorted. Me missing Snape? Yeah, sure, in his dreams. It took me a few seconds to compose myself before I responded. “No. Quite the opposite actually.” Adam hummed in response and gave a small laugh. 

Once the noise subsided there was an awkward pause. I was waiting for him to respond, and I honestly didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t had a decent conversation with the kid since the beginning of fifth year. Now we’re almost done with our sixth. I decided that maybe if I returned to my studies, he’d take that as an opportunity to drop the conversation. 

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to open my book before he cleared his throat. “Gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” He leaned his arm against the table and rested his head in his palm, fingers twiddling with the feather of my quill. 

I sighed, slouching in the process. “Yeah. Social interaction has been foreign to me.” 

Adam moved his other arm to the table, resting his head in both hands now. “Well I’m glad that you were just studying and not being torn apart by the whomping willow.” 

“Haha, yeah. I think I would prefer the willow.” We both laughed, knowing that potions class was hell. Well, I assumed that he thought it was hell. 

“Ahh, don’t say that.” It looked as though he was trying to think of what words to say. Mouth opening and closing, eyes darting everywhere. He must have pieced together what he wanted to say.  “You should join me and the guys for some skating.” I shrugged my shoulders, not answering. I knew that if I entertained the idea at all then I wouldn’t be productive the rest of the day, so I decided to read over my notes to get my mind off the subject. Still, Adam persisted. “Maybe take away some of your stress?” I paused. A break sounded really nice, but could I really afford one right now, or even have enough energy? 

“I don’t know, Adam. I have an exam on Tuesday.” 

Adam stood up and walked around the table with a childlike bounce in his step. “C’mon, y/n, it’ll be fun. Just like old times.” Now he was sitting right beside me, his lip now forming a pout.

 “Well...I guess skating for an hour or two couldn’t hurt. What time were you thinking?” He pulled me up. “Right now!”

All of my belongings were still in the hall, but I don’t think Adam had any regard for that. He seemed extremely excited that I had agreed to go skating with him. Well, and other people. Obviously. It’s not like it was just an invitation with him. They probably just needed an extra player so the teams were even. Whatever the case, I was glad to leave my studies for a few hours. 

We earned glares from the portraits as we ran through the west wing haphazardly, bumping each other as we went. Giggling filled the air and it was just like it was a year ago. There was no awkwardness, no distance. It was like we had stayed in touch the whole time we were apart. I’ll have to make a mental note to not let that distance between Adam and I grow again. 

“So, this is where I leave you.” I smiled at him as I turned to enter the Hufflepuff common room. “Well, for a moment. I don’t really want to get yelled at for being in  another house.” Adam shifted his feet.

“Oh. lighten up, cake eater.” He didn’t say anything, just stared at me. “Okay fine. If you’re that much of a stickler to the rules, you can stay out here.” He gave a sheepish grin.

As I walked up the stairs to my dorm, I wondered how that kid was even in Slytherin. He follows the rules, he’s super kind, and he brightens the room. Then again, you find tons of kids who break their house’s stereotypes. 

I ended the thought as I reached to grab a coat, scarf, and my skates. It had been at least half a year since I used them, so there was no doubt that I would be a little rusty when I got back on the ice. Once I was all bundled up, I made my way back to the hall where I found an Adam Banks standing in the same position that I had left him.

He gave a small smirk as I exited. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He hooked his arm through my arm and started to tow me to the frozen lake that was above the Slytherin common room. A blush drew to my cheeks, but I wrote it off as the scarf I adorned. Thankfully he didn’t notice. He was so focused on getting to the makeshift rink that I don’t think anything could have phased him. Not even Dumbledore in a bright, pink dress. 

The trek was long, but there wasn’t a lot of snow, so that made the trip more enjoyable. As we neared the lake, I could see the other guys in the distance. I could only make out Connie and Guy because they were holding hands, but there were four other people that I couldn’t see out on the rink. 

“Who’s all gonna be there today?” I looked up at Adam. The blush on his nose was even darker now because of the cold.

“Umm, Charlie. He had the idea in the first place. Averman wanted to come too. I think Connie and Guy. And then we asked Julie and Goldberg so we had goalies.” He smiled as he spoke, his love for hockey apparent.

Adam and I had played together when we were first years, but we hadn’t really known each other then. That’s where I first learned how to even skate. While I was still getting the bearings, Adam was already an extremely skilled player. When we were closer he used to tease me about it all the time, but he eventually stopped, and then just stopped talking to me all together. Maybe that’s why I’m so excited to go skating with him. After all, there’s no better feeling than reconnecting with an old friend.

The lake was pretty bare aside from two makeshift goals on the ice, and a few benches on either side. There weren’t any blue or red lines that we would have for actual games. Just plain ice. 

“And you’re sure the lake is frozen enough?” Images of me falling through into the chilly water invaded my mind. 

Adam shrugged his bag from his shoulder, “I’m a hundred percent sure. And if I’m not, I personally allow you to punch me.”

I rolled my eyes as I started to sit on one of the benches, putting a skate on. “Wow. how convincing.” He didn’t respond, so I just laced up my skates. Looking at the other people skating around, I wasn’t so sure how good I was gonna be. It had been at least three years since I’d really played a game of hockey, and you could clearly tell that these people practiced consistently. 

I stood up once I laced my other skate, and started to make my way to the ice. Much to my surprise, my balance wasn’t awful. I could successfully skate and stop without much effort. There were still times where I would wobble or need to regain my balance, but I should be able to hold my own. 

Adam brought me a stick and nudged my shoulder. I almost tripped, but I caught myself before anything else could happen. 

“You’re real funny, Banks.” I spoke through gritted teeth, still struggling to stay afoot. He offered both of his hands out to help me gain my bearings again. To my surprise, he started skating backwards, pulling me forward. I laughed, “where are we going?”

I could see Adam’s breath as he laughed with me. “To play, silly goose.” An amused expression was painted on his face while speaking, and he gave a big smile after. I started to skate with him instead of just letting him drag me along. After a moment, he just stopped. Because physics exists, I kept sliding and bumped into him. I almost fell but Adam grabbed me by the elbows before I could drop to the ice.

When he pulled me up, our faces were only an inch or two apart. The world around me seemed to fade until it was just Adam. Neither of us had said a word, we just stood there. Staring at each other. It was in that moment when I realized the blades of my skates were slipping on the ice. I didn’t really know why, because the lake was definitely frozen over, like Adam had said. It might have been because my knees had locked

Then I noticed the slight tug on my arms. I realised I was being pulled, not slipping. I was being moved at such a tiny rate that it was almost unnoticeable. Almost. As I neared Adam’s chest, I simply stopped breathing. My heartbeat sped, and I slowly started to lose my hearing. This feeling that I was only now feeling, had it been there the whole day? At the table, running through the hall, walking to the lake. Was it there the whole time? I was just to blind to have seen it. All of the time Adam and I had spent before we lost touch, was the feeling there too? 

Once there was no more room between him and I, Adam started to part his lips. My stomach was instantly in knots, and my mind preparing myself for the moments that were to come. Nothing else was said, and Adam closed his eyes. With no hesitation, he closed the gap between us, and pressed his lips against mine. 

There were no fireworks. No sparks, no pits in my stomach. Just pure bliss, as I kissed the boy that I met in fifth year.

[honeymoonjin]

pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names

summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines. 

A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean​ so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer

---

After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.

He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.

Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."

Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.

The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.

Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"

This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.

This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.

"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.

"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"

Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.

Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.

"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."

Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.

Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."

Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"

Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.

Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.

But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.

Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.

Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.

Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.

Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."

"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."

"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."

Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"

"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."

Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.

"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."

"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.

Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.

"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."

A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"

Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."

When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.

Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.

With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."

Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.

Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.

Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.

"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"

Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."

Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.

He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.

Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."

"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.

"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"

Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"

Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.

Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"

With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."

Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.

Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.

With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.

It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.

The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.

"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.

Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."

Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.

It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.

Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.

He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"

Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.

"Yes what?"

Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.

"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.

Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.

He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.

Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.

"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."

Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."

This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.

Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.

When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.

He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."

Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.

With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.

"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."

Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.

Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.

"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."

Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.

Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"

Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.

Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"

Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.

"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.

Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.

Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.

The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."

"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."

"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.

When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.

Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.

The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.

Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.

It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."

Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."

Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."

"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.

Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."

He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.

Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.

A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.

Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.

He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.

He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.

He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."

Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.

Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"

The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."

Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"

Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."

After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.

"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."

Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.

But where's the fun in that?

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.

His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"

"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"

Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.

Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.

Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.

Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.

"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.

After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.

"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.

It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.

He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"

One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.

Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.

"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."

Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."

With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.

It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.

Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.

With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"

[witch-and-a-half]

prefect duties

i love fics about Prefect Cedric so i wanted to try writing my own <3

notes: cedric x reader, fluff, probably year 5 or 6 or 7, no specific house or anything though

words: 2.1k

- - -

[y/n] stood outside the Hufflepuff Common Room waiting for her boyfriend to emerge. They had barely spent any time together during their first week of school, but he had promised they would spend the evening together. She checked her watch for the third time. He was supposed to meet her outside 10 minutes ago. Just as she was about to sit on the floor—resigned to waiting a while longer—the entrance to the Common Room opened.

Cedric clambered through the door with his hands on the back of two sheepish-looking first-years. He looked a bit huffy. “Bit of an incident, love” he nodded to [y/n] when he saw her puzzled face from across the corridor. One of the students besides him looked at [y/n] with wide, nervous eyes. The other kept his head down.

“Fancy a quick trip to Professor Sprout’s office?” Cedric looked apologetic, but [y/n] didn’t mind.

She fell into step beside one of the first-years as they headed towards the Herbology greenhouses. “What’s happened that you two need to see Professor Sprout?” she asked warmly. Neither of the younger students looked at her or replied. Cedric sighed, “When I came down into the Common Room, I found these two with their wands drawn on each other.”

“Uh oh…” [y/n] muttered.

“We weren’t actually going to duel,” argued the boy to Cedric’s left.

“I really want to believe that,” Cedric said gently, giving the boy a forgiving gaze, “but I’m supposed to bring you to our Head of House regardless.”

They walked in silence for another moment before the other boy, the one between Cedric and [y/n], sniffled. Cedric put his hand back on the boy’s back and patted him reassuringly, “Are you alright?”

“We’re going to get in so much trouble…” the boy squeaked.

They had reached the greenhouses by now. Cedric sat the boys on a bench and turned to [y/n]. He leaned in and spoke in a low voice so only she could hear, “Could you bring Professor Sprout out? Just tell her I found them with their wands drawn in the Common Room, but they didn’t cast any spells and they seem genuinely sorry. I think they’re pretty scared and, honestly,” he glanced back at the trembling eleven-year-olds, “I think they’ve suffered enough.”

[y/n] nodded and turned toward the greenhouse. Her heart warmed to see how compassionate Cedric was, especially toward younger students; he had such a kindhearted spirit and was an excellent Prefect.

Before she opened the greenhouse door, Cedric called out to her, “[y/n]!” Turning on her heel, she saw the same apologetic look on his face as earlier, “I’m really sorry we’re missing our date.”

She grinned back at him, “It’s really okay, Ced.”

~ ~ ~

When [y/n] returned with Professor Sprout, Cedric was crouched in front of the two boys on the bench. The sniffly one had clearly been crying and the other was fiddling nervously with his tie. [y/n] could hear Cedric comforting them and they were nodding back at him.

Sprout gave the boys a quick lecture and let them off with a warning. She thanked [y/n] and Cedric for being so responsible, “Especially on a weekend. I’m sure you two have other things to do tonight.”

[y/n] and Cedric trailed behind the younger two students, making sure they got back to the Common Room. Cedric held her hand and started to chat about his plans for their date, “We probably don’t have time to go to Hogsmeade anymore, but maybe we can have a picnic instead if that’s alright?”

“That sounds lovely.” She squeezed his hand slightly and gave him a reassuring smile.

Cedric opened the door to the Hufflepuff Common Room and was about to turn around to head off with his girlfriend when he heard muffled sobs through the open entrance. He winced at [y/n], “Uh-”

“I hear it too,” she murmured, “Let’s go see what’s wrong.”

Cedric ushered the boys up to their rooms while [y/n] took a seat next to a young girl who hurriedly wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her robe. “What’s the matter?” [y/n] patted the girl’s knee. “I got in trouble…” she sniffled, “with Professor Snape…”

[y/n] scoffed as Cedric joined them, sitting on the opposite side of the girl. “Oh, Pippa…” Cedric said, leaning onto his knees so his head was level with hers, “Everyone gets in trouble with Professor Snape. It’s like a rite of passage.”

She looked up at Cedric with hopeful eyes, “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “I met [y/n] in Potions a few years back. That first day of class, she spilled a jar of caterpillars. They went everywhere and Snape made the whole class clean them up.” Cedric and [y/n] laughed at the memory, and, eventually, Pippa joined in.

“That sounds bad,” Pippa looked at [y/n], “I only got in trouble for doodling when I was meant to be taking notes.”

[y/n] patted the girl’s knee again, “Oh, Snape loves to give people a hard time for that sort of stuff. I wouldn’t worry about it.” She paused for a moment and then added, “Just be more discreet next time,” with a wink.

Pippa giggled. Cedric had a small, impish grin on his face as he stood back up.

“This is no way to spend your first weekend at Hogwarts,” He reached out a hand to Pippa and she took it. With one hand, he pulled her up off the couch and he rooted around in his pocket with the other hand.

Still sitting, [y/n] saw how much older Cedric looked than Pippa. Not only was he much taller than her, but his features were more defined in contrast to the younger girl’s round, youthful face. She thought back to when she and Cedric first met; their cheeks had been just as round and they were just as unsure of their place at Hogwarts as Pippa. [y/n] rose to her feet, smiling to herself.

Cedric had pulled a chocolate frog from his pocket and held it out. “Here,” he said, “Sweets always make me feel better. You should go explore the castle or spend some time with your classmates while the sun is still out.”

She hesitated for a moment, looking up at Cedric for a moment. Pippa looked at the older boy, taken aback by the unnecessarily kind gesture. He nodded to her and she took the chocolate frog package from his hand. Pippa thanked both of you shyly before leaving the common room with a skip in her step.

Cedric looked up to see his girlfriend looking at him lovingly. He grinned and took her hand so they could leave the common room for their date.

“How did you just happen to have a chocolate frog in your pocket?”

“I always have little treats stashed away for special occasions. I had planned to give you that one later this evening…” he trailed off and scratched the back of his head.

“But Pippa needed it more.” [y/n] finished. She pecked him on the cheek as they headed into the corridor.

~ ~ ~

The sun was setting as the couple made their way to the Great Hall, hoping to sneak some dessert out so they could eat it under the stars. They had barely entered the Great Hall corridor when a girl with curly hair and a Hufflepuff tie bounded up to them.

“Cedric, Cedric!” She huffed.

He squeezed [y/n]’s hand, anticipating another detour, “What’s wrong Cora?”

“It’s Eleanor. She’s sick.”

Cedric and [y/n] followed Cora to the girls’ bathroom down the hall. Cedric stopped at the entrance, debating whether or not he should go in.

[y/n] let go of his hand, “It’s okay. I’ll bring her out.”

“Thank you,” he kissed her forehead tenderly, “I’ll wait out here.”

“We might be a minute,” [y/n] said cautiously, “Maybe you could grab us something to eat while I sort this out?”

Cedric nodded and, once [y/n] disappeared from view, he went to the Great Hall to see what he could gather without being noticed.

~ ~ ~

A few minutes later, [y/n] led a queasy Eleanor out of the bathroom. Cedric was waiting with a little package of pastries in hand.

Eleanor stopped for a moment in the doorway of the bathroom, “Cedric’s coming with us?”

[y/n] raised her eyebrow and looked down at Eleanor, “Do you not want him to?”

“No, it’s okay,” Eleanor still sounded hesitant though. That’s when Cora appeared behind them and explained quietly, “A lot of us first-year girls are scared of Cedric.”

[y/n] turned to the two girls before looking back at her boyfriend. His brows were pulled together, confused as to why the girls had stopped, but he stood patiently while they talked amongst themselves.

“Wh- Why are you scared of Cedric?” [y/n] was absolutely dumbfounded. Cedric was the sweetest, most approachable boy at Hogwarts.

Eleanor looked at her feet and shuffled them a bit. Cora giggled, “It’s just… we think he’s so cute.”

[y/n] choked back a laugh but let a wide smile spread across her face. Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked back at Cedric for a moment. He was raking his hands through his hair like he did when he was stressed, completely oblivious to what the girls were talking about.

She turned back to the girls. They broke out into cheeky little smirks when they saw the glint in [y/n]’s eye. “He is cute, isn’t he? But that doesn’t make him scary! I was scared to talk to him at first too, but if I hadn’t we wouldn’t be going out.”

“He’s your boyfriend?” Cora’s eyes widened and her mouth hung slightly open. Cedric’s ears perked up from the other side of the hall and his heart jumped a bit in his chest as he realized [y/n] was talking about him.

[y/n] nodded and motioned for Cedric to come over. She could have sworn she heard Eleanor whisper to Cora, “She’s so lucky.”

~ ~ ~

Cedric and [y/n] dropped Eleanor off with Madam Pomfrey and made sure Cora got back into the Hufflepuff Common Room. Then Cedric took [y/n]’s hand and they headed to the astronomy tower.

Along the walk, they chatted about the events of the evening. “Remember how scary Hogwarts was at first?” [y/n] asked. Cedric sighed, “Absolutely. It was so overwhelming.”

They walked up the winding stairs in silence. Standing at the window, Cedric wrapped an arm around [y/n]’s waist. He unwrapped the pastries and they both took one.

“What did Eleanor and Cora say about me outside the bathroom?” Cedric looked quizzically at [y/n] and took a bite of the cookie in his hand.

[y/n] grinned and shrugged, “Oh, nothing. They just asked if I was your girlfriend.” She didn’t want to tell him that they thought he was cute, but she gave him a sly smile and a wink.

He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. It was an especially cold evening, but the wind was chilly so they huddled closer for warmth.

Cedric kept his eyes on the sky above them when he spoke again, “I’m really sorry we didn’t get to go on our date. I’d been looking forward to spending time with you all week.”

[y/n] rested her head on his shoulder and sighed intently. “But we did get to spend time together. It wasn’t exactly a trip to Hogsmeade or a picnic by the lake, but honestly I enjoy any time we spend together.”

“How are you so wonderful?” Cedric shook his head slightly in disbelief and kissed [y/n] on the forehead. She savored the feeling of his soft lips on her skin, the warmth lingered in the cold air, even once he’d pulled away.

“You’re the wonderful one,” [y/n] said, the smile evident in her voice, “The way you dealt with all those kids today? I loved seeing how patient and kind you are with them. And it seems so effortless”

Cedric blushed and looked back down at [y/n]. “I could say the same for you, love. You were so willing to set everything else aside and take care of them.”

“You’re gonna be such a great mum…” Cedric turned back toward the window. He closed his eyes to savor the wind on his skin and the feeling of his heart pounding in his chest.

[y/n] hoped he didn’t hear her breath hitch when she realized what he said. “You think?” her voice was calm. It didn’t reflect the way her mind was racing, trying to figure out what Cedric meant.

She didn’t know it, but Cedric could sense the hopefulness in her voice. His grip on her waist tightened and his thumb tapped slightly.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “I can’t wait.”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Soon // S.B.

Request: Ahhhh!!!!! Congratulations on such an AMAZING milestone🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉!!!!!! You deserve all this and sososo much more girly. I’m glad ur being recognized for ur amazing talents 😩💓 Now for the celebration. Could I suggest: Sirius, Hogwarts, Soulmate au, fluff #13, and Misc #5 - @leahstypewriter

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

Misc 5: “Are you quoting a film at me?”

A/N: Thank you so much, lovely! Here’s your request! I hope you like! I love writing soulmate AUs and I had to go searching for one that I hadn’t done before so here we are! As always, I hope you like!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: I continue to wax lyrical about the history of soulmates, hopeless romantic (reader and writer lol).

Word count: 2.3k

The magic of soulmates was first discovered centuries ago; too long ago for the story to be remembered correctly, but through the years, the general gist remains the same amongst families of witches and wizards.

From birth, a witch and wizard are paired with another witch or wizard. It would take time to find their match; it would take patience of the strongest sort, but they will meet their soulmate should good fortune befall them.

How do they know they have a soulmate?

Anything written on skin; be it a word, a quote, a doodle – it all appears on their soulmates skin. Anything other than their name. Centuries of debate and arguments over the exact reason for this decree fell over the world. In the end, the ministries and the scholars across the world threw their hands up in exasperation, declaring that the decree relating to the naming of soulmates would have to stay and the reasoning being that those making the decree were too awkward and stubborn to think of making life easier for an entire society that had to go into hiding.

For years, witches and wizards, once old enough, are able to communicate with their destined other half. The itch of a sentence being written becomes familiar; almost tolerable. Over time, they get to know their penmanship and their inner most secrets only dared scrawled onto their skin that could be hurriedly washed away if needed.

By the time the young witches and wizards in the United Kingdom have reached the age to start Hogwarts, their soulmate is already a part of them.

Now it was just trying to whittle down the student population of the school to discover who exactly was your appointed other half from birth.

---------

Most soulmate matches at Hogwarts are made in the months April to July – it’s when the weather starts to warm up; becoming bearable enough for the short sleeved blouses and shirts to be dug out from the very bottom of trunks.

Arms are on display for most of the day. It means that matches are made in the corridor, in the classrooms, in the Great Hall. Everywhere across the castle matches are made.

It’s wonderful, it is. But it also makes you more impatient.

You’re in the library when another match is made. Madame Pince tries her hardest to hush the new match into some level of quiet, but it does no good and thankfully, she evicts them from the library and the hush soon falls back over the great room with the same sense of a comforting blanket.

Rolling the sleeve of your cardigan up, you delicately write, “I’ve just seen the third match made of the day and it’s not even noon.”

It doesn’t take long for your soulmate to reply, “I’ve seen two so far. Where was your third?”

“The library.”

“I bet Pince was thrilled.”

You snort at their reply; amused at how well they know the school’s librarian.

“When is it going to be our turn?” You ask somewhat hesitantly.

The reply takes a few minutes, but it comes all the same in the elegant script you’ve come to know, “Soon.”

You rag your sleeve back down in frustration, repressing the building groan. You didn’t know your soulmate’s name, but you had given him the nickname of ‘aloof’. He had gone to great personal care to not reveal too much about himself other than the fact that he was male, he went to Hogwarts and he was your age.

That was something at least, but your countless attempts to find out more had been rebuffed. When you asked why, he simply answered that he wanted to leave as much as he could a surprise. You understood that, but the curiosity got to you.

You sigh heavily returning to the homework laid in front of you, but your mind continues to play the realisation that had happened only moments ago. The happiness on their faces; their utter elation tied in with the adoration they already felt for the other.

It was hard, you realise, to be in love with someone you’ve only spoken to through words and doodles on your arm.

-----

The week doesn’t get any easier; the weather only turns warmer, so the outer robes are ditched completely. You leave the Great Hall the morning Lily Evans realised she had been talking to James Potter since she was a child. You couldn’t watch it and still feel the same empty feeling that had settled within you so long ago.

Your friend June and her boyfriend follow you from the Great Hall. They find you facing one of the many tapestries that depict the meeting of soulmates; they’re found all over the castle and each one feels like a dagger to the stomach.

“It’ll happen soon,” June comforts, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“Soon! Soon! That’s all he says,” You explode. Then you repeat in a quieter voice, “That’s all he says. He’s here and he’s close and all he says is soon. What if he doesn’t want to meet me, June?”

June tuts, “Then he’s a damn fool. However, he does want to meet you. He replies doesn’t he?”

You nod your head, but her words do nothing to comfort the growing sense of dread within you.

It was rare, but the soulmate bond could be rejected. There were those in the wizarding world who were born without a soulmate, but there were also those who simply didn’t want one, so they never replied to their partner’s pleading. Instead, they chose to ignore every word, every plea, every beg. For the bond to be accepted, the first reply is important. If words are never painted on your skin, the bond is rejected.

For not the first time that day, you sigh, “I know we have forever to know each other, but is it so wrong of me to want that to start now?”

June squeezes your shoulder, “It’s not wrong at all.”

You continue to stare at the tapestry a little while longer after June and her boyfriend depart; the depiction of soulmates shown in the quill being held by both parties.

Running a hand through your hair, you turn your back on the portrayal of true love, your mind focused on how long it would be until you experience something of the same magnitude.

-----

The day after James and Lily have their realisations, you find Sirius Black’s eyes on you at breakfast. When you meet eyes, he smiles at you, raising his hand in wave. You smile back politely, waving back awkwardly before shaking your head and returning to your breakfast and the latest letter from your brother and his new wife.

They had settled well into their new house; they loved their wedding present, thank you; and yes, you were to have a niece or nephew by the end of the year.

Wonderful.

Shoving the letter from your brother into your bag with more force than what is needed, you feel someone standing next to you. Looking up you meet the grey eyes of Sirius Black; he smiles down at you, “Are you okay?”

You fix him with a puzzled look, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs, “You were frowning so big I noticed it from down the table. I thought I would come see if you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me though.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t offer to fill the void, so the silence sits between you as heavy as a rock.

You stand from the bench; throwing your bag onto your shoulder, “Thanks again, Sirius. I’ll see you later.”

Sirius shifts out of your way, clearing the path for you, “My pleasure. I’ll see you later.”

You shake your head as you walk away; the encounter being an odd one given that your social circle didn’t tend to include any of the Marauders. But there was something about his final words; something about the way he uttered them that made them sound as if they were a promise to you.

You rush the thought from your mind; refusing to let yourself being occupied by someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

---

Sirius begins to take more notice in you; he starts to strike up small conversations whenever he can as well as numerous attempts to catch your eye at any meal time.

He starts to take up a lot of your time; sitting with you in the library on the rare occasion, but also joining you in class when the other Marauders are occupied with other pursuits.

It’s odd.

Muggle Studies remains one of the few lessons that hasn’t been interrupted with the growing number of soulmate matches in your year. Arguably, this school year could be the one with the most matches – the final year of Hogwarts; that final rush to find the love of your life before being sent out into the whole wizarding world without that safety net of the school to fall back onto.

The longer the professor drones on, the harder you find it to focus your concentration. The professor paces the front of the classroom, explaining their brief overview of what they hope the next few lessons will shape up to be like, but your attention is shot. It flickers between the marauder who has, for some reason, taken an interest in you and your soulmate, who still won’t reveal any more information about themselves or when you’ll be meeting.

A headache is close to blooming behind your eyes at the stress of it all.

Shrugging off your cardigan, you dip your quill into the pot of black ink sat in its holder. With the practiced precision of someone used to drawing on themselves, you begin to doodle.

Stars, planets, and moons appear on your left arm – decorating the inner forearm with an entire galaxy. They’re pretty rudimentary drawings, but it’s enough to keep you occupied from the droll being spewed by the professor who definitely hasn’t noticed they’ve lost the attention of most of the class.

The bell rings; finally signally the start of your only free period of the day. With a grateful sigh, you drop your books into your bag and make your way to the library.

You never make it to the library. On your way there, a hand grabs the back of your robes, pulling you into an empty corridor. With an angry shout, you face your kidnapper, “Sirius!”

He lets out an amused laugh at your affronted expression, “I’m sorry, I just needed to talk to you in private.”

You exhale, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder, “Sirius, I have to know. Why are you paying me so much attention? Surely you have a soulmate to think of.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Really?”

Sirius nods. He takes a deep breath before saying, “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

“Are you quoting a film at me?” You ask; an eyebrow raised.

Sirius shakes his head, repressing a laugh. He rolls up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing his left arm to you where decorating his inner forearm are the very same stars, planets and moons that you had doodled instead of focusing on the classwork.

Instead of saying anything, you roll your own sleeve up, lining your arm up beside Sirius’ where the patterns match perfectly.

It seemed that his attempts at conversation and his watching you from a distance was for a purpose.

Sirius Black is your soulmate.

“Oh…” You whisper.

“I told you we would meet soon,” Sirius whispers; a sight teasing lilt to his voice.

You shake your head, “I kept thinking you didn’t want to meet me; that you didn’t want a soulmate.”

Sirius grips both of your hands, “The complete opposite. I just needed to work up the nerve to find you.”

“When did you know?”

“Not that long ago. When James and Lily got together.”

You nod your head; remembering the day well.

“I overheard you talking to your friend when I was on my way to a lesson and you kept talking about how your soulmate kept promising you soon. And I realised that that was all I was saying to mine. Soon.”

You look down at your joined hands, “I never even had an inkling it was you.”

Sirius chuckles, “I suppose that should be flattering. I must be that good at concealing information, I should be a spy.”

You roll your eyes, “It almost drove me mad is what you mean.”

“Well we have a long time to get to know each other now,” He murmurs; voice soft and filled with promise for the future.

You smile shyly at the long-haired teenager, “We do?”

He nods, “Yeah, we do.”

Tentatively, you take a step closer to the long-haired Marauder. A small smile graces Sirius’ face as he takes in your movement. With a tug of his hands, you fall into him – an arm clasping itself around your waist, pressing you to him.

Sirius’ hand caresses your cheek; you lean into the touch, wondering if this is how every match felt when they found their soulmate or whether this was entirely Sirius’ effect on you. Either way, it was addicting… and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

Finally though, after what feels like a lifetime of staring into each other’s eyes, Sirius dips his head to kiss you. You meet him halfway; the desire you feel for him controlling your every move. His grip on your waist tightens and your arms wind their way around his neck, holding him to you. This kiss is what breaks the dam; from the lightest pressure of his lips, long buried emotions bubble up to the surface and it’s all you can do to keep yourself in control.

Sirius breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t retreat far. He beams down at you; eyes bright with elation. It’s a smile that you return and more; happy to have found your soulmate, happy to know who he is and that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Happy to know that soon is now.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @nerdyatheletic

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual​

[julemmaes]

Oksy so don’t feel like you have to do this but nesta and the kids go out grocery shopping and they bump into THOMAS FUCKING MANDARY and Nesta gets super overwhelmed but she’s got the kids and shit so she pretends she’s fine

But later cass comes home and the kids tell him what happens.

(and maybe they have a talk on important stuff about being with someone who loves you and if someone hurts you they don’t love you and it’s beautiful Idk)

Loving And Caring

Nessian modern au set in the The Seven Of Us universe (masterlist)

acotar next gen fan fiction

A/N: This is the reason I’m gonna fail my English exam, so please enjoy:)

The children’s ages: Ezra is 11, Cal is 6, Nora is 3 and Celia is 2. Andra is kinda not born yet.

DON’T COME FOR ME FOR BEING SLOW AS FUCK OR FOR WRITING SUCH ANGSTY PROMPTS. I HAVE 70+ IN MY ASKS BOX AND THEY’RE ALL SO ANSGTY

Word count: 8,185

"I want it!"

"I don't-"

"No, I want this!"

"I said I wanted it first."

"You did not!"

"Mom!"

Nesta Archeron had been called many things in her life. Daughter first. Then sister and friend, woman. She had been appreciated by all the professors she had had the honor of meeting during her studies, who had called her the best in her classes. She had finally found someone who had sincerely called her love and then wife, and she would not give up that last acquired, very important title of mom for anything in the world, but-

Right then she just wanted to strap her kids to the cart and run.

Walking down the cereal aisle, she ran a hand over her swollen, ready-to-burst belly, realizing that she would have to trip and fall on her bump if she wanted to end the problem for good. The baby girl, for whom they still hadn't chosen a name, would be born in a few weeks, and if she didn't get rid of her, too, she would never find peace.

She giggled - or at least she thought she did - at those morbid, disturbing thoughts for which many people would surely have her locked up in a mental hospital, if they found out how often she admitted to wanting to abandon her children.

It had been such a tiring day. She had been home from work for a couple of months now, this fifth pregnancy was breaking her down physically and mentally. She was at the end, in her eighth month, but she would much rather have the last baby out and inside the cart with her sisters by now.

Celia and Nora were babbling something in their imperfect language, and Nesta's heart clenched for her little men at the thought that they would be outnumbered in a few weeks. She and Cassian had experienced that feeling only three years before, and yet she still hadn't forgotten the terror she had felt at the idea of her children turning against them.

They had created a small army.

Casting a quick glance at Ezra who was sneaking something into the cart, she huffed. If the others noticed that he had put a package of junk food in the basket, that would be the end of it.

Moments later, in fact, Cal was looking at the colored bag in the still empty cart with suspicious eyes, and Nesta wasn't going to wait for the fight over who could buy the most junk food that day to begin.

"Ezra, put the snacks back," she said rubbing her hands over her eyes.

Celia mumbled something as she sat inside the cart, and Nora, silently settled next to her, nodded, as if she understood what the other was talking about. It shouldn't have shocked her, but Nesta never ceased to be amazed by that way of communicating that only the two of them understood.

Ezra's icy eyes turned sad when he looked at her and he pouted, "But mom I need them for snacks for school."

Cal looked at him with a furrowed brow, "No you don't. I need them." then he turned to Nesta, "But I don't like these, can I have those?" he asked with a bright smile pointing across the aisle with a wave of his arm.

She leaned forward, sighing and not answering him. Nora looked up at her and reached out her hands toward her mom, letting her know she wanted to be held, but Nesta was aching.

Cal and Ezra hadn't stopped bickering for half a second, and Celia had cried all day because she wanted her dada. Nora had stayed in Nesta's arms the entire walk to the grocery store, and one way or another she knew she would have to carry her all the way back home as well, despite the unbearable back pain. It was less than two kilometers, but with a pregnancy running out and only one hand to restrain any possible child who threatened to throw themselves under the cars whizzing by, it became more mental work than physical.

When Nesta smiled lovingly at her, trying to make her understand that she couldn't hold her right then, Cal burst into tears.

Her daughters' little heads snapped up at their brother, and Nesta cursed herself for deciding to do something as stupid as taking her four young children to the grocery store on an evening when they were all visibly on edge and stressed.

"Dear, what happened?" she asked without even an ounce of concern in her voice. She knew full well that it was just a tantrum. She got confirmation of that when Ezra replied in a whiny tone that they couldn't both buy snacks, or they wouldn't know how to carry them home. At that point Cal's cry became a proper scream and Nesta had to close her eyes to avoid the judgmental stares of the people passing by.

She brought her hands to her temples, massaging her forehead in circular motions, and when she thought she could handle it without throwing up on each of her children, she leaned against the cart, circling around Ezra and crouching with no small amount of difficulty in front of Cal. One hand on her back and the other still clinging to the cart, she grunted as she put one knee on the ground. She felt Nora's little hand rest on hers as she began to speak, "Listen kiddo, we're all very tired and now your brother is going to put his snacks down too," she explained, giving Ezra an inquisitive look over her shoulder. The eldest son rolled his eyes, but he had Celia hand him the package and snortingly put it back. Cal sobbed, sniffling, and Nesta laid a hand on his shoulder, massaging his arm. "How about we read a book together tonight before bed?"

The boy's face scrunched up in a grimace of sadness, "But I want snacks." he sobbed louder. Nesta bit her lip, knowing full well that the fat tears on his cheeks weren't really for the snacks and that she couldn't give in and let them all buy something or she'd end up with two bags full of junk food to carry.

Cal hadn't slept that afternoon, as had everyone else, because of Celia's endless crying, and she hadn't wanted to take her afternoon nap until it was too late and Nora and Cal had gotten out of bed to go play in their rooms. At that point Nesta had been forced to let Celia go, but she knew that had meant agreeing to spend an evening with frustrated and not-rested children.

She was about to respond when a couple of older ladies walked by them, casting an annoyed look at Cal. Nesta would have liked to respond with an ugly hand gesture, but she couldn't do it in front of her children.

In that moment of distraction she hadn't realized that Celia had also started calling her and now, casting a quick glance at her daughter, she felt a very bad feeling sink into her stomach at the sight of the little girl's tear-filled eyes.

She looked at Ezra, taking a deep breath, and noticed that even the oldest of her children seemed bothered by the course of action Nesta had taken. She felt tremendous guilt at seeing that the only one of her children who didn't seem disappointed or angry with her was Nora.

It all got worse when one of the two ladies who had just passed her said loud enough so she could hear her, "I don't understand why some people don't stop with their first child. It's obvious she can't even handle one, listen to her screaming."

Nesta felt the emotion grow in her throat.

"When someone isn't born to be a parent, it shows immediately. She's one of those awful mothers who doesn't know how to take care of her children." the other added.

Nesta caught her breath, fixing her gaze in Cal's. Celia was crying by now, spluttering to be picked up as she tried to keep her balance inside the cart.

She wasn't going to answer. She wasn't going to answer.

"Let's go home." she whispered suddenly, laying a hand on the small of her back and pulling herself up with a tremendous effort, a twinge of pain went through her legs and back, "Cal, dear, we'll buy the snacks another time, for now we'll just take the bread and milk, tomorrow come back with daddy and take whatever you want, okay?" she spoke quickly, in a high, steady voice so that all four of them could hear her. She just hoped they didn't hear how desperately she was trying not to burst into tears over what the ladies had just said.

Cal nodded, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and immediately stopping crying. Ezra looked thoughtful, but he too had stopped pouting. The only one who still looked upset was Celia, who followed her by walking inside the cart, moving where she stood.

Seeing the little girl's red face and dripping nose, arms outstretched toward her, Nesta heard only the words "awful mother" repeated in her mind.

With a knot in her throat and a cry that she was sure would break free as soon as she stepped into the house, Nesta pushed forward, bumping the cart with her belly as she picked up Celia and placed her on her side. The little girl immediately stopped crying, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and cupping her tiny hand over her shirt.

Now, beyond the emotional wound that had just been inflicted on her, Nesta could feel the pain in her back growing with every step she took. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop a sob that threatened to break that composed attitude she had.

Everything hurt so bad.

Cal was running in front of them all, stomping his feet on the ground and making the little lights on his shoes glow. Ezra was walking beside her, one hand on the edge of the cart as he mouthed off to Nora, but he had to stop when Nesta froze in the middle of the aisle, taking an abrupt breath. She brought a hand to her belly, feeling the baby move and kick, only adding to the pain.

"Ezra, love," she breathed, stepping aside and holding Celia against her side, then asked between her teeth as the baby continued her assault inside her, "could you push the cart?"

He nodded, his face lighting up as if she had asked him to take control of a ship.

Celia began to squirm on her side and Nesta had the urge to drop her, not voluntarily, but it all hurt so much that her body was begging her to sit up, to take all that unnecessary weight off her arms.

At the idea that she would have to walk home she felt her eyes grow heavy with tears.

She put Celia back in the cart, breathing a sigh of relief as some of the pain eased in her lower back. Nora was now standing and smiling at Ezra, who was struggling to see where he was going past his sister.

Nesta looked up just as Cal hopped out of the aisle and fell to the ground, crashing into someone's cart. Or rather, as someone ran over him with their cart and slamming him to the ground.

She didn't even think about it as she started walking as fast as her body would allow towards her son, leaving the other three behind. By the time she reached him, Cal was standing there laughing in amusement and was running his hands over his pants to get the dust off his palms. Once she made sure he wasn't hurt, she was ready to yell at whoever had dropped her son, ready to take out all her frustration and doubts on the stranger, when she heard a voice that sent chills down her spine.

"Nesta Archeron?"

She moved her head so fast she was surprised she hadn't snapped her neck, but her brain didn't have time to process the pain the jolt had caused her, because there standing before her was Tomas Mandray.

She couldn't believe it.

Any thought of yelling at the stranger vanished like an echo in her mind.

How was it possible that he was there?

"Is it really you?" he asked her with wide eyes and an incredulous smile on his face. He circled the cart, shifting his gaze to Cal, and Nesta felt the overwhelming instinct to grab her son and hide him behind her. When Tomas reached out a hand toward him, ruffling his hair, she felt vomit rise in her throat. They had to get out of that place immediately. "I can't believe it." he voiced her thoughts, "Is this yours?" he asked looking into her eyes again.

This... he was talking about Cal.

She couldn't find the words and continued to stare at the man in front of her with wide eyes - scared eyes, if you knew Nesta, if you knew where to look. And Tomas knew it. Tomas had always known it.

She heard Ezra reach them, and then something slammed into her side. She didn't need to lower her head to catch a glimpse of Nora's little pigtails of black hair or hear Celia's amused giggle.

Tomas snorted a laugh out of his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are they all yours?" then moved his gaze to her belly to bring it back up to her breasts and Nesta wanted to say something to him, to insult him, to hit him, to take him away from her children, but she felt her heart pounding in her throat and the air couldn't reach her lungs.

That tone-

That tone wasn't of someone who was happy to hear that you'd made a new life for yourself after they'd managed to destroy you completely. It wasn't the tone of an old friend who you hadn't seen in years and who you're about to agree to hang out with and tell them about everything that happened in your lives.

No, it was the tone he had used every day, every hour, when he needed to belittle her, when he needed to make her feel insignificant, worthless.

"Mom?"

Nesta turned her head so slowly toward her son, blinking, that she must have seemed like another person entirely. No longer the proud, strong woman she'd shown everyone for years on that side. Ezra had one eyebrow arched, as if wondering what was going on, and was clasping hands with a jumping Celia.

She didn't have the energy to turn around, to look at the man who had pushed her to the bottom of the barrel and destroyed her, but she managed to throw out a weak, "Kids we have to go, we're not taking anything." then turning to Cal, she took his arm, pulling him towards his siblings, "Let's go."

She felt Tomas' eyes creeping over her like slimy hands. She could still remember the last time he'd touched her, when she'd gone over the edge, offering herself to him to avoid yet another fight or worse.

For that, when his true hand tightened around her wrist, pulling her slightly to let her stay there, she flinched.

"Nesta."

She spun around, bringing her free hand to her belly for protection. When the little girl inside her kicked again, making her groan through her teeth in pain, Tomas smiled in a way that made Nesta hope she was anywhere but there.

"Is she kicking?"

And then it all happened quickly. She couldn't move, couldn't pull away, as the grip on her wrist tightened and Tomas pulled her closer to him and placed his other hand on her stomach, next to hers. A soundless sob escaped her control and her breath labored as she felt his fingers move over her shirt.

She was going to throw up.

She gave a tug so hard that the twinge of pain started at her wrist and reached her elbow, but she was free. She smacked the hand on her, taking several steps back and bringing Cal with her. She had started pushing the front of the cart, trying to position it in the direction they had come from.

She met Ezra's gaze for a moment, before her son's eyes slipped behind her, on Tomas' figure.

"Ezra." she called to him in a firm voice. Four pairs of eyes snapped in his direction. That was the tone of a tired mother issuing orders to her children at the end of the day, "Eyes on me."

She didn't want anything of Tomas's to come into contact with her children. She didn't want him to contaminate them the way he had contaminated her.

She lifted Cal off the ground and the child quietly let her pick him up without too much of a fuss. She didn't feel the strain at all as she pulled him high enough to put him in the cart with the girls. Looking at her oldest, she hoped she could secure him like she was doing with the other three, but he was too big to fit in the cart himself.

Before she could tell him to follow her without saying a word, Tomas spoke again.

"What a beautiful name, Ezra," she felt the venom bind each letter.

Ezra was about to turn around, probably to thank him, as she and Cassian had taught him, but Nesta squeezed his shoulder, "Keep looking ahead and walking, I don't want you talking to him."

"Always so fucking obnoxious," Tomas spat at that point.

Nesta froze in her tracks. She could feel him following them as he tortured her. Ezra froze beside her, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention.

Always so obnoxious. You're useless, worthless. I'm the only person who will ever be able to put up with your bullshit. You'll never find anyone else.

She felt the panic rise, the agitation for one of her children to realize how uncomfortable she was at that moment. She closed and opened her hands on the cart's handlebars, hoping to relieve some of that tension.

"I'm amazed to see you with so many children," he continued, creeping up beside her and stopping in front of her cart, blocking her way with his. She looked up at him, feeling the air scratch at her throat. He had aged, she could see it in the features around his eyes, his mouth - he had aged and yet still had the same look. "I didn't think you'd ever date again after I left you."

I left you. She wanted to tell him. I had the courage to leave.

She didn't answer him, straightening her back.

Tomas smirked, lowering his gaze to her daughters and his smile widened even more.

"Don't look at them," she snapped, still maintaining her composure.

The man looked up at her one more time, "They'll be just as pretty as their mother when they grow up." then looked at Cal and Ezra, sliding a finger over the edge of his cart. "Who's the father?"

"Dada." muttered Celia, flapping her little hands.

Nesta wanted to recoil at the sound. She didn't want Tomas to hear her talk, didn't want him to watch them. She didn't want them breathing his same air.

"It's none of your business and now move over," she whispered to him. All she could think about was the fact that she had to get her children out of there as soon as possible. Therefore, when he didn't move an inch, she added. "Please."

Tomas laughed. He laughed, leaning his head back and clutching his hand around the mesh of her cart. "Nessie Nessie," he clicked his tongue on his palate, a remnant of laughter in the tone of his voice that made the woman's gut tangle, "I haven't seen you in so long. I want to know everything."

"Please." she repeated, as her eyes filled with tears. His own widened slightly, surprised to see such a reaction in her. She didn't care if he saw her weak, she didn't care if she had to get down on her knees. He was keeping them trapped, and Nesta knew he wouldn't let them leave until he squeezed even the last drop of sanity out of her.

If Ezra still realized what was going on, she didn't know, and it scared her even more. Cal was looking at her and looked worried, probably having never seen her so shaken in her life.

She was about to beg him a third time. Beg him to free her from whatever that game was that they were stuck in at that moment, but someone said her name. Ezra looked behind them and Nesta saw the shadow of a smile on his face, prompting her to turn around in turn. A choked sound escaped her throat as she bit her upper lip to keep from bursting into tears, and a wave of gratitude washed over her.

"Miss Archeron," the man smiled at her. Drakon Cretea had been Nesta and Cassian's neighbor for years now. He and his wife Myriam had babysat their children so many times that they were their go-to people. In fact, Celia and Nora had snapped to their feet at the sound of the voice of the acquired grandfather they loved so much.

Nesta didn't waste a moment turning the cart so that it faced Drakon. The children, Ezra included, began to cheer happily at having met a familiar face, and Nesta allowed herself to look over her shoulder.

With such relief that she thought she might collapse to the ground, she saw that Tomas was already pulling away, and as he turned the corner, pulling into another aisle, she took a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes.

She had made it.

***

Cassian was exhausted.

He had spent the entire day grading exams for first-year students with his aide, and it was as if he could see the letters behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was much more feasible to work in the university library, where he didn't risk being interrupted by a child every five minutes, but he only tried to do it once or twice a month during exam sessions, knowing full well how exhausting it was for Nesta to keep up with all the children together until late in the evening, especially now that Andra was about to arrive.

"Andra." he murmured into the silence of his car. Nesta kept telling him that they weren't sure that would be the name of their fifth child, but Cassian didn't care. He just needed to name his wife's belly when talking to his daughter.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned off the car in the driveway and stepped out, stretching his arms up just enough to make his back crack.

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he huffed. It was too late for his girls to still be awake, but maybe he'd be able to say goodnight to Cal and Ezra.

He had warned Nesta that he was going to be late, and she had simply replied that she would leave dinner ready in the kitchen for when he returned.

Opening the front door, he immediately saw two little dark heads popping up from above the couch. Cal was already running at him when he closed the door behind him and jumped on him as soon as he had put his stuff down, "Dad!"

"Kiddo!" said Cassian throwing him into the air.

Cal laughed waving his arms, "Sssh," he scolded him still laughing, "the girls are sleeping."

"Oops," dad made a guilty face, stopping their game and putting Cal down.

Ezra was too focused on watching TV and wasn't paying the slightest attention to Cassian, but he walked over to the couch anyway, lowering himself just enough so he could leave a kiss on his hair, "Hi love." he murmured to him.

The little boy's head snapped toward him and with a crooked smile on his face and his pajama collar in his mouth, he said, "Hi dad."

Cassian scoffed amused, ripping his pajamas from between his teeth, "How many times have I told you not to eat your clothes?"

"Sorry," Ezra said, not sounding sorry at all.

Cal had gone back to lying next to his brother and they both seemed too caught up in the cartoon to pay any attention to it, so he went into the kitchen, loosening the tie around his neck and praying that Nesta had cooked something good - though the opposite was quite unlikely considering the woman's innate cooking skills.

He moaned with delight when he realized it was the meatballs she always made when she didn't feel like cooking and, taking the plate, he headed back to the living room. He plopped down in between his sons, taking the pajamas out of Ezra's mouth again and offering them both a meatball.

"So, what have you guys been up to today?" asked Cassian with a full mouth, slipping off his shoes and placing his feet on the coffee table.

First Cal and then Ezra told him in full detail about what they had done at school and then about the fact that none of them had slept that afternoon. Cassian was surprised to find out that Cal could still stand up without getting any rest.

When they got to the point where Nesta had taken them out walking and they had made it all the way to the supermarket, he had stopped them.

"Guys come on," he looked at them with incredulous eyes, "I told you to keep her home."

It was true. Lately Nesta had been pushing her limits when the doctors had told her to exert herself and stress as little as possible. With childbirth imminent too, it was risky for her to walk around without any other adults.

Ezra had the decency to look guilty, "I know, but-"

"We also met a weird dude," Cal interrupted him.

Cassian looked at him taking on a confused expression, "Weird?"

"Yeah, he knew mom," Ezra nodded, looking at the TV and talking thoughtlessly. He was bowing his head slowly and Cassian unconsciously extended a hand towards him, shutting his mouth before he could start chewing on the fabric once again. He looked at him at that point, continuing the story, "Mom was all weird, though."

"Weird." repeated Cassian.

"Yeah, weird." repeated Cal in turn, then chuckled, "He even hit me with the cart."

He and Ezra laughed together, remembering how Cal had fallen on his bum, but Cassian's thoughts were elsewhere. Clearly the fact that someone had rolled his son with a cart must not have been traumatic or painful, or Nesta would have called him and Cal wouldn't have been there laughing, but the fact that they had described her with an adjective like "weird" had him on high alert.

"Do you happen to know the man's name?" asked Cassian, pulling himself up and setting his plate down on the coffee table, keeping his gaze on his hands.

Ezra shook his head, "No, also because mom didn't talk to him much and then Drakon showed up."

"Oh, yeah," Cal repeated excitedly, his eyes glowing, "then Drakon showed up."

Cassian was on his feet before his youngest son had finished speaking. He started up the stairs to go upstairs, where he hoped he would find Nesta awake, but warned the two little men that he would go change and be back down to them in a jiffy.

With a strained expression and a bad feeling working its way through him, he walked down the hall, opening the door to his daughters' room slightly. Both Celia and Nora were already fast asleep, and Cassian felt a smile break out on his lips... his little gems. He couldn't believe yet another one would be arriving soon.

He closed the door, making sure not to make any noise, and then headed to his room, praying that Nesta was okay and that his children had misunderstood everything.

He heard her before he even entered. He could picture her pacing back and forth through their room, muttering about what was bothering her at the moment.

He took a deep breath, ready to fight whatever demons there would be to fight that night together, and tightening his hand around the doorknob, he lowered it, pushing himself into the room.

Nesta stopped short, both hands wrapped under her belly to help support that extra weight she was always complaining about.

The second Cassian's eyes found hers, her expression completely transformed and a desperate sob broke the silence that had formed between them.

"Nesta." he said as if someone had just sucked the air from his lungs. Reaching for her with two quick strides and wrapping her in his arms, Cassian heard all kinds of emotion in his wife's crying.

When he stroked her back, Nesta let go a wail of pain and he immediately pulled away, still keeping his hands around her elbows as much as her cold hands tightened around his forearms.

"God, Nesta what happened?"

She only cried harder, loosening her grip on him when she was sure he wouldn't pull away. She managed to say between sobs, "Everything hurts."

Cassian felt as if the floor has cracked open beneath them. "Is it the baby?"

Nesta's eyes went wide, probably only realizing at that moment what state he'd found her in, "No, she's fine." then, seeing his increasingly worried expression, she added, "I promise the baby's fine."

Cassian sagged at little, reducing his lips to a thin line, gently pushed her towards the bed to get her to sit up, but Nesta shook her head, taking short, overly fast breaths, "I can't."

Cassian paused, taking her hands and trying to restrain himself from asking her who they had met that afternoon that had managed to trigger such a reaction in her. There was no way she could have been in that state just from being tired.

"I can't." repeated Nesta sobbing and looking into his eyes. "Everything hurts, Cassian."

He sighed, closing his eyes. Seeing her in this state was nothing new unfortunately. With four pregnancies behind them and everything they'd been through in the years prior to their marriage, it wasn't unusual for either of them to be in such a condition.

He opened his eyes, trying to keep a firm tone, "How come you can't sit down?"

"If I sit the pain gets worse." she said between choked breaths.

Cassian furrowed his brow, wanting to yell at her about how stupid it had been of her to go walking that afternoon, but he restrained himself. "Have you tried lying down?" he proposed.

Nesta shook her head again, "Any position hurts my back or my legs," she explained.

"Tell you what," he began hesitantly, taking both of her hands, "why don't you put on those super pants that support your belly - or I'll help you put them on, it's no problem," he added quickly when he saw the pain in her features, "and then I'll give you a leg massage while you're standing?" he said smiling at her coyly. Nesta sniffed, nodding slowly. "And when sitting doesn't hurt anymore or is bearable you get on your knees on the bed or lean against the keyboard and I massage your back too, are you up for that?"

She squeezed his hands to let him know she was okay with everything, so Cassian smiled at her, returning the squeeze and starting to pull away from her to go get the leggings, but Nesta's eyes went wide and a few tears rolled down her cheeks, "Where are you going?"

Cassian grimaced worriedly.

Why hadn't she called him if she was feeling this bad?

He moved back as close as he could without crushing Andra between them, "I was just going to get my pajamas, Nes, and your pants." he placed a hand on her face, stroking away the remnants of her crying. Then he sighed, pushing her forehead into his and keeping his eyes open as he whispered, "I love you."

She repeated it quietly, almost a sigh.

He undressed quickly, slipping into his pajamas with equal haste as Nesta stood motionless in the center of the room, waiting for him to return to her.

"Listen," Cassian began, kneeling in front of her as he helped her out of the pajama pants she was wearing, "the boys told me you met someone today." he forced himself to look at her, when the grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened. Cassian studied the reaction he'd elicited from her and bit the inside of his cheek, seeing how Nesta had frozen and put her foot down. He took a deep breath, giving her knee a little tap to let her know she needed to get it back up, "They didn't tell me who it was and I don't think they know, but I got some ideas and I want-" he swallowed loudly, thinking seriously about what might have happened if his doubts were real, "If it's Tomas, I want to know if you're okay." he said in a lower voice, looking at her from under his lashes. Nesta didn't answer.

He had managed to get both of her feet into her pants and was pulling them up gently, trying not to hurt her. He had to pull up the skirt of the robe she used during all her pregnancies when none of her pajamas fit anymore, uncovering her belly and left a gentle kiss on her skin, smiling at his daughter, "Hello my little sunshine."

He felt Nesta shiver and thinking it was from the cold he hurried to cover her belly with her pants and then pull her nightgown down.

He looked at her more seriously than ever as he settled on the floor in front of her so he could massage her into a comfortable position. He was about to speak, to ask her again how she was doing, but she beat him to it.

"What did you do today?" she asked in a weak voice.

Cassian closed his mouth, bouncing his legs, pondering whether to insist that she spoke or let her distract him with that question. He decided for the latter, even though his wife already knew very well what he had done that day, "This morning there was an exam of Ancient History for the first years." he began to speak while pressing his thumbs on her left thigh. Nesta was leaning her hands on his shoulders. "I have to be honest, I've never seen exams as crappy and ignorant as this session's," he continued while keeping his gaze fixed on her face. "It's like people stopped studying all of a sudden and thought they could pass my exams by learning the bare minimum."

He shifted on her other thigh and Nesta snapped forward, groaning softly as Cassian touched a particularly numb muscle.

"Sorry." he smiled at her, "Then at lunch I stayed in the faculty with Gwyn and Luc, and by the way, they asked me if you'd be okay with organizing a lunch this weekend, with everyone?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, "I can't even walk, let alone plan a lunch with everyone," she pointed out to him in an irritated tone.

Cassian chuckled, "I'll let Gwyn know you told her to fuck off nicely."

"Yes, thank you," she replied to him. But then she bit her lip, thoughtfully, "But if they want to do something at her or Elain's that's fine. I can also cook, but not here, please, I don't feel like tidying up afterwards." she looked into his eyes with a pleading look.

"It's okay, it's not a problem," he shifted to her calves, "Although, if the only problem has to be the fact that you don't feel like tidying up, you know I wouldn't let you."

Nesta grunted, "I don't want you to do all the work yourself."

Cassian let out a puff of air through his nostrils, "You can't be the only one working hard in this house Nes, let me have some of the glory too." he joked.

"But I'm not the only one." she said in an overly serious tone, "You're always at work and I know you're working overtime, filling in for your colleagues, don't think I haven't noticed," she scolded him. Cassian lowered his head, feeling his cheeks turn red. "And I'm here at home and I can't work and I've been like this for months now and even before that with Celia-" she sighed, bringing a hand to her face, "I just wish I could help you bring something extra home."

Cassian stopped massaging her leg, surprised at what he was hearing. He moved away from her, enough so that he could stand up without bumping into her stomach and then looked at her, shaking his head, "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, "Nesta you're raising our children. You're doing a much more tiring and exhausting job than mine ever will be." he pulled himself upright, "True, it's just as rewarding and enjoyable to be able to stay home and watch our children grow up, but you're the biggest help I could ever get right now. We don't need money right now."

"But-"

"No buts." he said arching his eyebrows and pushing her towards the bed, "Do you think you can sit?" she nodded pensively and let him help her up onto the mattress. "Nesta what you're doing is admirable and I'm sure not everyone could handle it as well as you can."

Nesta stopped in the middle of the bed, turning to look at him with a shocked expression.

Cassian was just as shocked. That she didn't realize how much she was actually helping him was beyond comprehension.

"I can only get by because you're there," she murmured, looking away, "I'd never make it on my own."

"And no one expects you to make it, Nes." he said stunned. He really couldn't understand where all the doubt was coming from, "You don't have to make it on your own and you're not doing it on your own."

He had her settled so that her back was to him and she was turned to the wall. He placed his hands over her back and began to make concise circles on the bottom, applying pressure where he knew the pain was most concentrated. Nesta's head fell forward in relief.

"You really don't think you're helping me in any way?"

"No, I-" she froze mid-sentence, "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, using his knuckles to massage her shoulder muscles.

Nesta groaned softly, "It's just that I wish I could go back to work and read all the books I want and I wish I could feel tired and be able to let my kids cry without anyone telling me what to do and how to do it. I wish I could move without the terror of going into labor at any moment and-" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I wish I wasn't so hormonal right now."

He could tell that her thoughts were all over the place.

There had been other such crises during Celia's pregnancy. The fear that they wouldn't measure up as parents to so many children. They were in constant thought that they were not giving them enough, that they were teaching them the wrong lessons. Cassian had received some nasty comments himself about how they were raising their children, and he knew right away that someone must have said something to Nesta that day.

They had always had stronger, more heartfelt reactions on her, and now that she was pregnant it was all much more altered.

"What happened today?" he asked her under his breath after a few moments of silence.

"No one slept, I didn't have a moment's peace and then we left and walked to the mall. I had to carry Nora all the way there and-" her voice broke on the last sentence and Cassian stopped his ministrations on her. He laid both hands on her back, getting as close as he could, letting his hands slide down her hips and then over her belly, until his chest made contact with her back and Nesta pushed back against him.

She dropped her head onto Cassian's shoulder.

"And?" he murmured, spurring her on.

"Everything hurt so much, Cass," she replied in a watery voice, "It was like I was being stabbed in the back and I couldn't put Nora down because she'd start crying."

A sharp twinge of pain shot through his chest. He began to gently massage her belly and shortly after he felt her small hands settle on his, pushing harder, "No one would try to say you're a bad mother just because you don't pick up your daughter when you're hurting."

She didn't answer.

"Celia?" he asked.

"Ezra and Cal held her hand the whole way, she walked so much," she said with a half smile on her face. "When we walked in they immediately started acting up and then they started crying and I couldn't take it anymore and these ladies said I was an awful mother and it's true, Cassian." she jerked in his arms as she said those last words. He only held her tighter, taking a deep breath. "Who is the mother who can't calm her own children when they cry? Her own children." she shook her head, running a hand under her eyes.

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she had started crying again.

"Nesta listen to me." he whispered to her, kissing her shoulder and then the tip of her ear. "You are the most loving and caring mother I know. Your children are perfectly healthy and you've never let them lack for anything. You've never raised your voice to them. You've never threatened them or grounded them-"

"I'm not a monster," she muttered.

"And more importantly," he said smiling and holding her tighter, "your children are happy."

"But Cal today-"

"Cal is downstairs watching TV with his brother and he's been telling me about his day and he's the happiest kid ever," he interrupted her, "Just because he threw a tantrum and cried a little doesn't mean you're not a good mother."

She sighed and nodded, though she didn't look convinced.

Cassian continued to stroke the spots on her belly where he knew her skin pulled the most, her hand still on his playing with the wedding ring on his finger when Nesta said, "I saw Tomas today."

Cassian froze behind her, holding his breath. He'd known it, but hearing the fear in her voice now as she said the name of the man Cassian hated most in the world didn't stop him from wincing.

"He bumped Cal with the cart and knocked him over and I didn't realize it was him until he called me," Nesta continued.

When Cassian spoke, his voice came out much harsher and tighter than he intended, "Did he-" he cleared his throat, "Did he say anything?"

"No, he-" Nesta brought both hands to her stomach, shifting his. She moved uncomfortably in his arms and Cassian loosened his grip on his wife, realizing she wanted to move. He grabbed her by the hips, trying to pull her up so she could turn toward him, and when she was finally sitting up with her back against the headboard of the bed, she sighed. "I saw him, Cass, and I froze." she said under her breath, looking into his eyes. "He touched Cal's hair and it was like he was touching me, again, and I completely froze and then the baby kicked and he touched my-" she took a ragged breath as her eyes filled with tears. When she spoke again, her voice was so weak that Cassian had to appeal to every ounce of his reasoning not to get up and go find Tomas to kill him.

He took her hands, remaining silent as a revolting feeling took over his body. The idea of Nesta being touched by that filthy man made his guts turn. The idea of his children-

A choked sob brought him back into the room, "And I wanted him to go and stop looking at Ezra and Celia and Nora and I could only move when Ezra called me, but he followed us and blocked our way. He asked me about you, wanted to know who you were, and it was like going back in time and I couldn't- I couldn't, Cass-" Nesta brought a hand to her chest, her eyes and mouth wide as panic appeared in her gaze and air struggled to reach her lungs.

Cassian squeezed her hands, speaking softly, "Nesta, it's okay." a sob from her, "You're all home." he murmured starting to massage her palm, "You're home with me."

Her breathing became even more erratic and she shook her head, closing her eyes.

Cassian closed his eyes as well, "I'm sorry you had to see him again and I'm sorry you couldn't move, but it's understandable, sweetheart." he was trying to keep his tone of voice relatively low, to calm her down, but it was proving difficult for him as he viewed Tomas watching his daughters. "He shouldn't have touched your belly. He shouldn't have just touched you at all. And he shouldn't have gotten close to Cal or Andra." he seethed. "And if I could I would go to him and rip his hands off." he let slip as he imagined the terror Nesta must have felt at that moment.

Nesta sobbed and the sound broke Cassian's heart, "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry."

A pang of pain tightened in his chest as his face turned into a mask of controlled anger, "Don't ever apologize to me, please," he whispered, "Not for this stuff."

"But I couldn't do anything, even after all this time-" a hiccup broke the sentence, "He still has all this power over me. It's not fair."

It's not fair.

Cassian nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, "You're right, it's not fair." he squeezed her hands lightly, telling her to look at his face. She quickly did so. "You're not with him anymore. You're free. You don't owe him anything, just like you never owed him anything." Nesta took a shaky breath, stopping sobbing. "You have a family, you're a wonderful mother and wife. And you deserve all of this."

Nesta's eyes went wide, realizing where this was going.

Cassian took a deep breath, "You're not worthless, you're not hopeless or useless." he closed his eyes as Nesta mimicked him, breathing deeply in turn. "You are a strong, independent woman, it doesn't matter how much he said otherwise. It didn't matter before and it doesn't matter now. It's just meaningless words.

"I know you, Nesta, and you are the light of my life. The light of every person in this house. The only thing that keeps us going." he whispered in a weak voice, as Nesta leaned forward toward him and cried silently.

Cassian moved closer to her on the mattress so that she could rest her forehead against his chest, his shoulder, wherever she wanted, for support.

He had repeated those words to her so many times over the years. He didn't think he'd ever have to do it again, certainly not after so long that they both knew Tomas had moved to another continent entirely.

"I know you and you're nothing like he describes," he encircled her shoulders with arms when Nesta let go of a particularly loud sob. "You are the exact opposite of what he says." he kissed one temple, stroking the hair on her back.

She shivered in his arms, "I know." she whispered against his shirt.

Cassian managed to force a smile onto his lips, even though she couldn't see it, he knew she would hear it when he spoke, "I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because I can only imagine how hard it was for you to see him again, and although I would have appreciated a different approach to everything that happened this afternoon, you handled it perfectly and our kids are fine." he passed his hands over her shoulders and pushed her away from him so he could look at her face. "And it's okay that you broke down now, it's normal. I'm glad you told me about it. Thank you." he spoke against her lips.

She smiled, breathing a laugh through her tears, "I love you."

"I love you." repeated Cassian, sighing. He cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb under her eye, before kissing her. No rush or force, just pure, raw emotion as their lips caressed in a desperate kiss.

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