#ask prompts – 🤍

[slushfaerie]

plz write like a small blurb or fic if you want.. about cockwarming with art, hes like a lil puppy pelasessess

fem!reader x puppy!art - wc: 481 - nsfw, tw: pet play

ohhh sweet puppy art. 

you’ve had a long day with a long list of to-dos and he’s springing into action as soon as he hears your keys in the lock, pouncing on you as you’re walking in. presses wet kisses all over your face, wrapping himself around you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and staying there. he missed you :((

refuses to leave your side even for a second as you’re changing into something more comfortable. begs you with a silent nudge to hold him close and warm by your side as you order takeout for you both to enjoy and pour something to drink to wind down.

and there's something about the attention that he's giving you. it's coaxing the weight of the day to melt off your shoulders, how precious and doting he's being. how he looks up at you with those sweet eyes of his, the singular fixture in his head is you. 

later that night, you turn on something mindless on tv and lie down on the couch, pulling him into your arms. art settles into your embrace like he’s starved for you (he is).

he’s already squirming and panting heavily as you run your hands over him, tugging his shirt over his head. you can already feel the damp spot on his boxers as he begins to rut against you, friction leaving you breathless as he kisses everywhere he can reach. 

"been such a good boy." you say between gentle gasps. "why don't you stay inside as long as you want, baby?" art shudders.

he can’t hold back the whimper he lets out as he processes your words. you reach down to the elastic of his boxers, freeing his cock before rubbing it over the slit of your cunt through your panties, his pre-cum mixing with your own arousal. 

you allow him to finally rid you of your panties and put just the tip of him inside you. art's mouth falls open as he pushes inside you fully, whining against your neck. a moan of your own escapes your lips, hands full of angel curls as you soothe him. 

he struggles at first not to squirm or rush into it. does his best to take his time ridding you of your shirt, kissing your neck and collarbones. drools and runs his tongue all over your nipples before taking them into his mouth, one at a time.

but he can't help himself. he cums with a mewl as feels you fluttering around him, so warm and wet and perfect. heaven feels like you, he’s convinced. 

art collapses into your arms, gently panting against your neck as he catches his breath, still buried to the hilt inside of you. he has no plans of pulling out or leaving your arms anytime soon. 

he falls asleep clinging to you, exactly where he wants to be <33

[bigdumbbambieyes]

unsafe requests huh mmm something outside? 👀 steve loving on billy hours pls 🥺👉👈💖

ofc babe!! here you are 🤍

it’s the time after spring and before summer and steve’s behind the arcade, pressing his boyfriend into the wall there, cigarettes forgotten at their feet.

it’s stupid, to do this. especially in the daylight. but, with billy looking at him like that, all blue eyes and a blond curl on his forehead, his mouth wrapped around a filter - steve couldn’t resist.

sliding his mouth against billy’s, breathing a moan into it like it’s the only air his boyfriend needs, clutching at his shoulders with cramping fingers as billy licks into his mouth, wet and hot and demanding, like he always is.

drowning in the scent of him, his cologne and the cigarette smoke and mint gum. the touch and feel of his body through rough denim and a thin shirt, the way their hearts beat together in time where their chests are touching.

god, he loves billy so much he could fucking die.

he pulls away, just a little, and grins as billy eagerly follows him, desperate to keep their lips locked for as long as he can.

“slow down,” steve murmurs, sliding his hand down billy’s back and further to the swell of his ass, gripping it through his jeans, “lemme just…love on you, okay?”

billy huffs in annoyance, but he looks willing so he concedes easily, going soft and pliant, ready to let steve do as he pleases.

and he does. sliding his mouth across billy’s jaw and neck, steve mumbles sweet things to his sweet thing, kisses that sensitive spot on billy’s neck just to hear the soft sounds he makes. he can feel the heat of billy’s face as he presses a kiss to the blond’s cheek, peppering his lips down to that mustache and then to his lips — coaxing billy’s tongue into his mouth again with a gentle suck.

his hand smoothes to the front of billy’s jeans, rubs at the firm shape there, murmurs hotly, “this for me?”

billy nods, his brows furrowing as he ruts his hips into steve’s hand.

“want me to make you cum?” steve whispers, licking across those full lips.

the little whine his boyfriend gives tells him ‘yes’.

he’s quick about it, tugging billy’s jeans open as he kisses him, sliding his hand into the blond’s pants to feel him there, slick and sticky already.

steve can’t help it, he moans, “slut,” into billy’s mouth and grins at the choked moan he receives in return.

“so sweet for me,” he murmurs, ducking his head to kiss at billy’s neck again because he wants to hear every little sound he makes, “love you so much, baby, just wanna make you feel good all the time…”

“you do,” billy whispers shakily, his eyes half-lidded as steve strokes him up and down, slowly.

he gives billy a look, thumbs over the slit at the tip of his boyfriend’s cock, “you’re not lying?”

billy shakes his head ‘no’ and keens, staring straight into his eyes.

“fuck, you look so good,” steve sighs, kissing billy so sweet and chaste, as if he weren’t giving him a filthy handjob behind the arcade, the sound of his hand so loud now, “so gorgeous, billy, so amazing…”

“jesus — shut up,” billy whispers, his cheeks burning red and his eyes wet, overwhelmed by the emotions steve is making him feel.

“no,” steve hums, “maybe i’ll tell you every sappy thought i’ve ever had about you and you’re gonna cum from it.”

“you’re the worst.”

“i don’t think your dick got the memo, baby.” steve smirks, lifts his other hand from billy’s hip to suck his finger into his mouth, watching billy watch him, his boyfriend all but falling into a trace.

he shoves that finger down into the back of billy’s pants, smoothes the wetness across his hole, murmurs heatedly, “you’d probably let me finger you against this wall if i asked.”

it sets billy off almost instantly, his face scrunching in pleasure as his jaw drops, a filthy little moan leaving his lips as he cums all over steve’s hand, rocking back against that teasing finger and the tight grip of his hand.

steve can’t help it, he kisses billy through it and sighs, “such a good boy for me, angel.” into his mouth.

billy can barely stand up, but steve’s got him. he tucks billy back into his pants and kisses him again, because he can’t get enough.

and when he feels billy’s thigh forcing itself between his own, his dick pressing against a muscled thigh perfectly, steve knows the praise and love is far from over.

[alpineshift]

How aboooout my lucky number 16 and our favorite boys Jack and Nico the rest is wherever the world takes you!

your lucky #16!! most certainly 🥰🥰🥰

[16] a civilized throne room, lanterns lit on the walls leading up to the throne itself

This is the smallest Nico's ever felt in the throne room

For the longest time, the lone chair set up on the dias of the hall has sat empty, a symbol of a time past rather than a real icon of leadership, but apparently the kingless days are long past

Nico just didn't expect such an overwhelmingly enthusiastic response from the Kingdom of Jersey to his ascension to the throne. He also really didn't expect them to take one look at him, a wood-wild, storm-chasing, battle-ragged infantry captain and declare him fit to rule a whole kingdom

(This is usually when Timo would smack him upside the head and say, "You've got royal blood in you, moron. A bit of mud on your face isn't going to erase any of that.")

So here he is. Shuffling restlessly through the hall, dressed in uncomfortably fancy robes, making awkward small talk. But it's so hard to focus when his mind keeps drifting back to his men beyond the walls, their encampment at the edge of the keep. Where his second-in-command, Red, would certainly be, and whom Nico would so much rather be with

Because, of course, he's a King now. And Kings are meant to marry politically allied partners to strengthen the Kingdom.

It's perhaps the only thing he selfishly can't let go of; Red's smile. Red by his side on the battlefield. Red carefully bandaging his wounds, his dark red cloak draped over Nico's shoulders to keep him warm. Red's tangled brown hair pulled back in a little pony, blue eyes shining as his gaze meets Nico's before their lips meet in a kiss

(Nico misses him so much--wishes he could just hold Red in his arms and disappear together instead)

"Look alive," Jonas mutters, nudging him as the heralding horns sound. Nico flinches, but straightens just in time for the doors to open and the Lord Stewart announces, "The Second Prince of Kingdom Hughes, betrothed of King Nico, Marksman of his infantry!"

And Nico's jaw drops as the Second Prince enters, amidst the awed murmurs of his people, dressed in court-appropriate attire, but decorated with a very familiar red cloak. He strides down throne hall, glowing under the light of the torches, his glossy brown hair cleaned and combed back. He stops in front of Nico and bows low, reverent. The hall follows suit.

"Hello, husband-to-be," Red (no, Jack) says, and Nico's heart pounds through his chest with anticipation and delight when he looks down into those beautiful lake-blue eyes once more.

it's almost hockey season again! send me a jacknico prompt?

[twistedappletree]

For the ace intimacy moment prompt: zhuiling ? 💛🩵💛🩵

Jin Ling is having a breakdown (possibly his third for the day because emotional peony is emotional) and Lan Sizhui knows that asking him what’s wrong will just make him cry even more, so instead, he holds him until he stops hyperventilating then cups his face in his hands, wipes his tears away and says, “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

[darby-rowe]

glinda finds a damn way to finger you with her nails done and i will die on this hill

you’re like 1-2 months deep in whatever situationship you’ve found yourself with glinda and you’ve been topping her the whole time (glinda is a BRAT ty ☺️) but one day she comes to you, practically floating and singing your name when she tells you that she wants to try fingering YOU for a change. and immediately your eyes land on her nails and you’re like uhh.. first off you’re gonna have to cut those. and she GASPS all like do i HAVE to???? 😦😦😦 and you’re like unless you can find a way to shove those claws inside me and NOT completely shred my insides YEAH?????

fast forward she has you cumming and grinding your hips on her fingers on her pretty pink bed and you cant even FEEL her nails. almost like…….. sorcery was involved (glinda just ended up dulling her nails so they wouldnt be as sharp)

[sunsetcarnation264]

12. for the height difference prompt? :D

Ooo! :D since you didn't give me a ship, I'm just gonna go with a self ship lol and the prompt list didn't say it was for drawing or writing, so I'm gonna go with writing for now and add a drawing later.

—————

Annabelle kept Apetrully steady on their back.

She suggested that he'd be on her back. He was getting tired, and she wasn't sure if he'd be able to walk the whole way back. Not that Annabelle would've minded holding onto him the whole time, but she didn't want him to suddenly fall asleep.

Since then, he clung onto her back. Apetrully might've been a monkey in a human disguise, but he acted more like a koala right now. A cute, sleepy koala.

Annabelle smiled and held back a chuckle. If they looked back, they felt certain they'd see Apetrully's tail sway from side to side even if he wanted to wag it.

She kept her eyes staring ahead of her, a bit of the night sky above being in view, but they merely focused on Apetrully.

The way he breathed, the way his heart felt against her back and its beats like a simple soft melody the two were familiar with, every little thing. He even fell asleep on her. They were glad he felt safe and comfortable enough to do so.

It made the rest of the way back feel like merely minutes, even if it was likely longer.

Once they were back in Big Green, Annabelle made sure to lay down slowly and carefully as to not disturb Apetrully from his slumber.

[inafieldofdaisies]

And "don’t leave" for Oliver and Oakley from the one word prompts, if you want as well?

"Oaks?", Oliver called out as soon as he pushed the heavy door to her hideaway open, his voice echoed down the dimly lit hallway and was met by silence. "You're not in a horror movie. Though, she might want to kill you for intruding.", he muttered under his breath while advancing forward, set on fulfilling his promise to her grandmother and checking up in Oakley no matter how annoyed she might get. "You again.", was the first thing to greet him as he entered her surveillance room, finding her lounging in front of the roll of monitors that displayed feeds from around Moore's large property. "Me again.", Oliver parrotted back, gaze zeroing on a photograph in her hands that held her attention more than the screens she would usually watch. Silence engulfed both of them before she twisted to look at him and sighed, "You can tell her I'm doing just fine and be on your way." "Are you truly fine, though?", with that, he moved towards her instead of retreating as instructed, something about the expression she wore pulled him in, and he couldn't shake the feeling leaving would be a huge mistake His hands grasped the back of her chair, and he took his first peek at the grainy picture over her shoulder. A young couple beamed at the camera, a little girl with pale blonde hair squished between them and wearing just as big of a smile.

"They seem happy.", he whispered past the lump in his throat, wishing he could see her face once more. Her thumb ran circles over the photograph, "Don't they?" "Nana was hoping you would come up. She made dinner." "I can't." "If it's because of me… I can go, Moore.", a part of him dreaded dragging himself back to the motel when a warm meal was set up for him above ground, but making that sacrifice seemed better than her sitting all alone. "Don't leave.", his eyebrows rose in surprise as she rushed to add, "Nana would think I chased you off." He nodded, "So if it's not me…" "It's the night, and me. I wish I could remember them.", her tone was stoic, but the way she gripped the picture had him rounding the chair and crouching down until her could grasp her hands, "Silly, I know. Won't do me any good. But it's like I'm looking at two strangers and I feel so much, yet nothing at all." "You were young. Too young. You shouldn't-" Her eyes lifted to his for a brief second, "I've stared at this picture so much over the years, I have their features memorized. Their voices, though… how we were as a family, I can't remember any of it, Oliver." "Nana has albums. She's taken them out, too.", he retorted quietly, hope taking flight in his chest at the fact she held his stare instead of focusing on the image again and zoning out. "So you can laugh at my baby pictures?", her lips quirked up slightly. "I doubt they'd be worse than mine, love.", a dramatic shudder passed over her at the petname, "My ma was super into costumes, still pulls out my baby albums any chance she gets." "Were you as annoying?", Oakley asked as he pried the picture out of her hold, and pulled her to her feet, not wasting any time in case she changes her mind with how stubborn of a person she was. "I'm told I was such a good baby, excuse me very much." Keep her distracted, McKenzie. She rolled her eyes but let him lead her out of the room, "Mhm. I totally believe that." "Truly. With the occasional hiccup here and there." "I knew it. And what were the costumes, do tell?" He squeezed her hand as he picked up his pace once they hit the stairway leading up and out of the stuffy bunker, "I will tell you all about them after dinner. I've been eyeing the pie Betty made the whole evening, Oaks. I'd probably dream of it." "Hungrier than a bear. It's why she loves you so much." The cool night air bit through his thin shirt, and he followed the lights from the house in the distance with newfound determination, still not believing he had managed to get that far, "I have a feeling she'd love me even more now." "Probably serve you half that pie." "From your mouth to God's ears."

[kazamajun]

oh yknow... 💜🤍

SCREAMS AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS

[flowercrowngods]

You're like a genie of storytelling and the prompts are wishes you can answer.

There is a poem there somewhere…

pfff yeah and just like with a genie my limit of actually prompt filling is also 3 and you never know what you’ll get even when the prompt was clear as could be bc i just love to fuck around and fuck up 🥰🤍

[theflyingfeeling]

You know, the way you describe them actually got me into Aleksi/Olli ship, they're just so cute 🥺 I've been looking into fics about them lately, may I please ask for some recommendations?

Oh 🥺 There are certainly not enough Olli/Allu fics on AO3, but here are some of the ones I've loved the best 💖

-

To start with a recent one, I just read Waiting for a train by curious_crocodile the other day and it was adorable 😭

ΩΩ by @pastlink is so sweet too if you're into some good ol' omega/omega loving 💕

make me into anything, but just love me by @ao3userxnowimnothing did an outstanding job with my silly fake dating plot idea and y'all should read this one immediately if you haven't already ✨

Waiting for your letter by @milirii is full of the sweet sweet pining 💞

Puppy Love by @askeataiho is as adroable as the title suggests, but I'll have you know that while the pairing is Aleksi/Olli, you shouldn't be fooled into thinking they are the main characters... 🤭🐶

Standing under a snowfall by @rosalba-robi is also as magical as one might conclude from the title ❄️

Hope this helps!! 🥰

-

and I also just added the tag olli/allu to all the related stories I've written and posted here on tumblr, in case someone wants easy access to them &lt;3

[slushfaerie]

is it the right time to suggest puppy reader and sweet whipped patrick…

oh this is the best time bby <33 i fear i cannot resist the puppy thoughts ever. patrick is so out there and brazen (i adore him) and in my head that earnestness can materialize as sweetness for the right person. it was really fun to explore that here. he's down bad!!

fem!reader (but tbh mostly gn) - wc: 555 - tw: pet play, nsfw obviously lol but mostly below the cut

just imagining patrick taking such fucking good care of his little puppy. he's so attuned to your needs, doesn't make you think or worry about a thing. holds your hand as you follow him around your shared apartment, making up cozy little spaces with plenty of blankets and pillows for you to sit with him since you can't bear to be apart.

he runs his hands through your hair as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck while he holds you in his arms on the couch. whispers praises in your ear accompanied with kisses to your cheeks at every little good thing you do. even buys you a pretty little collar.

there was nothing he wouldn't do for you. and you wanted to be good for him so, so desperately.

the look in patrick's pretty eyes is soft as he takes you in, gazing down at you on your knees, looking up at him those big eyes and pouty lips. he reaches out, gently cupping your face with a warm hand, thumb brushing over your cheekbone and tracing the curves of your face. "god, look at you…prettiest little thing i've ever seen…" he coos, voice dripping with affection and need.

"you know what good puppies get, don't you?"

patrick's touch is tender, almost sweet, as he guides your face closer to his lap, your nose mere inches from the prominent bulge straining against his jeans. you can't help but melt at the way he talks to you, the gentleness of his touch.

"you want a treat, hm? wanna be my good little pup?" he continues his ministrations, caressing your cheeks, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. you can't help as your eyes flutter shut, whining as you nuzzle against him, craving his attention.

patrick chuckles as you mindlessly begin to tongue the denim of his jeans, the fabric keeping you from what you really want.

"yeah? this what you want?" his tone is teasing, yet warm as he gives you a dimpled grin. anything for you.

he unzips the fly of his jeans excruciatingly slowly, continuing to pet your head and unable to hold back a grin at the eager noises you're making.

you lick your lips, mouth watering as his cock is finally freed from the constraints of his jeans and boxers, long and hard as it slaps against his stomach. he strokes the base of his shaft slowly, teasingly, taking in the eager look on your face, the way you bat your eyelashes at him.

patrick can't hold back a groan as you descend on him, your tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up his length, intoxicated by the taste of him. you part your lips, letting him slide past them, inch by inch, until the head of his cock hits the back of your throat.

"fuck…you're so fucking beautiful like this, you know that?" his voice is strained and tight as he pushes your head down, your mouth warm and wet. "taking me like it's nothing. such a good fucking puppy. so sweet…"

patrick's head falls back, mouth parting in bliss as he wraps a hand in your hair, pushing you down further as you swallow everything he gives you. you can never get enough.

"gonna give you the fucking world, baby…"

ᯓ❆⋆✉︎

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Your Baby Daddy Ain’t a DJ - [Series Intro]

♥ next | series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: you didn't think twice about the dj you hooked up with until you found out you were pregnant. turns out the man wasn't just some dj but a famous formula 1 driver.

♥ smau + some written - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: tbh this specific type of trope is not my preferred cup of tea to write but that one childish gambino lyric I based the title off of was just so lando coded and I couldn't resist lol

liked by yourbestfriend and 12,493 more

yourusername at least the girls will always have my back

comments are restricted

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

"The dad is a dj!?" your mom was completely shocked.

"What the fuck do dj's actually do?" your sister asked.

You covered your face with your hands prompting the two of them to feel even more sympathetic.

"Hey," your sister said, sitting next to you on the couch and putting one of her hands on your shoulder. "It's going to be okay, okay?"

"Mija," your mom joined you two on the cushions. "We will always be there for you."

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by yoursister, yourbestfriend, and 14,673 more

yourusername my beautiful daughter camila + her favorite stuffed animal 🤍

view comments

yourbestfriend the prettiest mom

*liked by original poster*

yoursister the plushie needed a shoutout?

yourusername she clutches onto it for dear life

yourbestfriend deer life* 😀

yoursister stop

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

end notes: here's the intro/teaser to this little series. I'm so excited to kick it off!

[crescenthistory]

hi angel!!!! absolutely adore your blog and especially the way you write for regulus 🥹🥹 makes my heart so happy, like that’s baby boy!!!! thank you so much for sharing with us!!! i have a prompt request but only if you feel so inclined!!! number d8 “where is she?" with regulus, pretty please, like maybe something happens to reader and he is the last to find out (busy w quidditch or prefer things) so when someone finally tracks him down being like your girl needs you, his composure is for once non existent and he is panicking!!!! ughhh hurt/comfort with reg is everything!!! anyway only if you feel my up to my love no pressure ever - love your blog regardless 💗💗💗

hi my love<33 this is hands down the sweetest request i have received, thank you so much for being so kind 🤍🤍 i genuinely appreciate your words so much! as for the request, i adore some hurt/comfort with reg, and this is an idea i've had for a while, so it was so fun to write

Prompt: D.8 "Where is she?"

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, severe injury (happens off screen, explained and treated on screen), lacerations, typical regulus anxiety (overworked), best friends to lovers, pomfrey being a badass, snape is a villain, animal abuse (technically), background marlene, rosekiller, etc.

It was common knowledge that Slytherin quidditch practice was never to be disturbed, especially this close to the final match of the season against Gryffindor.

This was Regulus’ first year as captain and he was determined for it to be written in the history books as a victorious one, to make himself deserving of the title. Playing opposite his brother and his best friends didn’t lessen the pressure much, either. 

He knew he had been pushing the team quite hard, but he also knew that if anyone could handle it, it was them. Evan and Barty funnelled all their chaotic energy into quidditch once they realised just how much it mattered for their mate, and Dorcas had just as much to gain from winning against Marlene as Regulus had against Sirius. Fenwick had had his skull bashed in by enough bludgers in his career to not be able to formulate any complaints, even if he had them. The rest of the team were relatively young players, a risk most others had chastised Regulus for taking, but one that was playing off beautifully – and with those rumours, they wanted to prove themselves, too. 

There really was little problem with this arrangement, he told himself, other than the fact that he was perhaps wearing himself a bit thin when balancing it all with his prefect duties and exams.

And, more importantly, missing you.

You had been the best friend he could have asked for during this hectic year of his, always standing by his side, just as much of a loyal team-player as those on his actual sports team. That unwavering dedication you had shown him over the years that taught him that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of being loved – and most definitely of loving, because Regulus would be damned if he didn’t admit that that was the only appropriate word for how he felt about you.

Not that he had told you that yet, though, and neither had you. It was never the right time, and you both knew, at least to some degree. For now, it was enough. You had each other, always, and it was enough. He told himself as much, at least.

Regulus was trying to zero his thoughts back on his team running through their plays off-broom on the ground, looking for any weakness in their formation, when the cardinal rule of not disturbing practice was broken.

“Black!” A voice shouted as it ran across the pitch from the school. 

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pestering fourth year away, one of those who just seemed to always be there, nameless and bothersome. It was to little avail, though, judging by the sounds of his heavy steps hitting the still somewhat moist dirt on the field.

“Black, I have to–”

“We are in the middle of a practice!” Regulus cut the kid off, letting his nerves get the better of him as he saw most of his players stop in the midst of what had been their best run-through so far. “Unless someone has died, it can wait.”

“But–”

“Has someone died?” Regulus had his hands on his hips, half aware that he looked way too much like his older brother as he regarded the student-shaped owl in front of him with derision. 

“No, but–”

“Are someone in the midst of dying? Like within the hour?”

“N– no.”

“Then you may leave.” The student looked thoroughly confused, clearly not having been properly warned by whoever sent him as a make-shift owl that this was the only response he would be getting from Regulus. He could vaguely hear you whispering poor boy in his mind, always advocating for Regulus’ softer side, but right now he pushed it away as he turned back to his teammates. “Whatever it is will still be there when we are finished up here.”

Regulus didn’t wait for him to go before he began to pretend he was air, attention fully on his team once more.

Barty snickered as he tried to lean his chin on Evan’s shoulder, only to have the taller boy fully shove him off. Regulus shook his head, ignoring the crestfallen student beside him as he tried to increase his energy levels back to where they needed to be.

“Okay, that last round was getting closer to where we want to be. Ready to take to the sky for the last few minutes?”

When he finally stepped foot inside the quidditch locker rooms, Regulus sped through his shower routine. He was eager to get out of there and back to the dorms quick enough to have sufficient time to spend with you before going to sleep. He had half a mind to ask you to sleep in his bed tonight, but he wondered if that might be pushing it since you just did that a few nights ago. Nothing ever happened, of course, you were just the best of friends – and even if you had been something more, it was hard for anything to happen with Evan and Barty in the same room.

You just brought him a sense of peace he found himself craving more day by day. He wished to squeeze out every ounce of it he possibly could.

His hair was still wet, bag thrown about as haphazardly over his shoulder as he could allow himself to without spiralling – which is to say, he still looked perfectly polished to anyone but him. He turned to give the team lingering behind an attempt at an emphatic great work today that ended up falling a bit short from his hoarse voice. Thankfully, everyone else seemed tired enough to accept it without reservation, and Regulus could exit the changing room before all but running towards the Slytherin dorms. 

On his way there, he passed through the Great Hall, attempting to slow his stride to look a bit more composed, but quite ready to throw all of it away for the night just to curl up with you.

“Re- Regulus?!”

Sirius’ incredulous voice sounded behind him, and though Regulus loved his brother dearly, he took a deep sigh at the disturbance, knowing that, with him, it would likely not be a short one.

“That would be me.” Regulus turned around with a sarcastic half-smile, only for it to waver when he saw the expression on Sirius’ face. 

There was an evident tension in his face when he looked Regulus up and down, as if trying to figure him out while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Sirius’ lips were pressed tight, as if holding back a severe frown and his eyes were decidedly clouded with worry.

“Reg, what are you doing here?” His voice conveyed more confusion than upset, but both were woven into his tone.

“I’m… on my way to Slytherin? We just finished practice.” 

It was as if Sirius found an answer to his confusion as his face settled into a form of defeat. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Regulus stared his brother down, heart speeding up in his chest, but he could feel it in his whole body. “What is it, Siri?”

“James sent someone to tell you,” Sirius says, speaking more to himself.

“Tell me what?” Regulus’ patience was worn thin by his pulse straining his skin.

“Uh, it’s Y/N.” Pangs shot through his body, pulling every vein taut. “She– she will be fine, don’t worry, but–”

“Where is she?”

Regulus struggled to make out where Sirius stood in front of him as the world seemed to tunnel around him and his mind was immediately elsewhere, immediately with his best girl, imagining any possible horror that might have overcome you. Had it not been for Sirius’ delivery of the news and the way he looked at Regulus, he might have felt more calm. But he had always known his big brother to be more composed than this.

“The infirmary–”

He didn’t need to hear more before he was running at full speed down the hallway.

Little to nothing registered with Regulus on the way to the infirmary, that he for the first time in his life realised was located painfully far away from the Great Hall. Illogical, given how many students go through there throughout their days. 

He felt lighter than ever as he was entirely certain he had never run this quickly in his life, simultaneously as every limb felt heavy with worry. 

She will be fine is only reassuring if he was concerned you had died – in every other scenario it is the worst thing to hear, because it confidently means you are not fine right now.

Regulus is half aware that he has run through two ghosts, into one student and past a professor – he thinks maybe Flitwick? – but he paid none of them any mind, willing to take the point deductions or even detentions, if only they don’t slow him down. He can deal with everything and anything else later. 

When he finally reached the door to the infirmary, it took everything in him to come to a halt. 

He all but crashed into the door, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe as he breathed heavy, giving himself but two seconds to collect himself, lest he be banned from the infirmary by life by Madam Pomfrey. That was not something he could afford right now.

Still heaving, he opened the door and took two steps inside – before his vision became entirely swamped by that very same woman, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Is she here?” He tried to get out before she could say anything.

“No visitors at the moment,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

“Please, is she here?” Regulus couldn’t even think to say your name, but the look on the matron’s face told him she knew.

“She is, and she is alright, but there will be no visitors at the moment.” Her voice was a bit softer now, but she was not relenting and she was not moving.

Regulus’ breath picked back up, and he didn’t register the tears that were forming in his eyes. A choked please was forming on his tongue when–

“Please.”

You beat him to it. Your meek voice sounded from a few curtains down behind Madam Pomfrey. Regulus didn’t hear the noise that escaped him when he heard the soft pain in your usually chipper voice, but the matron did. Still, it seemed to be on your account and not the lovestruck, fear-sickened boy in front of her, that she took a step to the side.

“Only you, and it must be brief.”

Her words were mostly caught by the air that Regulus left in his wake the moment she moved to the side, because as soon as he could he was by the curtain he had heard you speak from behind, ever so gently pulling it to the side.

“Oh, mon amour.”

The sight he was faced with both mended and broke his heart – because you were there, awake and already looking at him, but your forehead and right arms were bandaged and your face bore telltale signs of pain. He could see tear tracks down your delicate cheeks, mascara smudging just barely beneath your eyes. You looked happy to see him, he could see your chest heave a breath of relief, but that was about the only positive thing he could decipher in you at the moment.

At last, his movements were measured and careful again, but for once not for the sake of how he was perceived, but rather to not disturb the space around you, as if that could lessen your pain. He barely managed to close the curtain behind him with trembling hands, giving you a semblance of privacy, even in this infirmary that he had no idea hosted how many others.

There was enough space on the left side of the bed beside you for Regulus to take his rightful place by your side, as close as he dared. His eyes kept jumping all over your body and face, breath hitched.

Your name escaped his lips in a small breath as his eyes widely roamed your form.

He didn’t realise his hand was hovering between you before you reached up to him with your left hand and took it in yours. Your grip was weak and the tips of your fingers cold, but it was still the smooth skin he was used to feeling on his.

Upon your touch, he seemed to be brought back down to earth and the welling tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I’m alright.”

“My poor love,” he whispered back, letting his free hand move up to lightly caress your cheek, brushing some damp hair away. It must have gotten wet when Pomfrey tended to whatever wound was bandaged on your upper forehead. “What happened to you, amour?”

Regulus often referred to you with terms of endearment, you knew you were each other’s person, but the absolute softness of them now broke your heart a little.

“It was…” you trailed off, wincing as you scrunched your brows in confusion and consequently pulled on your bandage. “It was an accident.” The sound that escaped you was almost a laugh, but it was too wet and strangled to truly be classified as such.

“What happened?” Regulus’ voice urged, more desperate than before. He held your hand tighter, bringing it closer to his chest, as if to protect it.

“We were helping Kettleburn – unwillingly mind you –”

“Who are we?” Regulus cuts you off, still seeming rather feverish in his desperation to know what was wrong. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him to calm him down. 

“An unfortunate bunch of us who happened to be enjoying the fresh air by the benches. Me, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Avery and some others we don’t really know too well, mostly fourth years.”

Regulus scowled at the mention of Snape and Avery, but nodded, as if encouraging you to continue.

“Kettleburn needed some help preparing bait. He believed there was a hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest that he wanted to draw out. It worked a bit too well, a bit too well.”

His brows scrunched at that. “But hippogriffs are mainly peaceful unless you disturb them?” Unease was growing in his stomach.

“Yes, that’s what I said as well,” you feel a bout of dizziness come over you, but try and speak through it. “We were down, probably a bit too close to the forest when it came out. I tried to push the bait towards it carefully, keeping my distance. It just wanted food, you know.”

“But?”

“But Snape and Avery freaked. When it took a step closer, just to eat – they let curses fly, kneejerk self defence reaction they said.”

Regulus had to be mindful to not hurt your hand as his fists clenched on reflex. He settled for holding the sheets beside him disturbingly hard instead – he had already pieced together what happened. “You were still in the line of fire,” he concluded, eyes darkening.

“Yes,” you whispered weakly. “It would have been fine, if it had only been a stupefy or something, but Snape shouted something else, some freak hex. It was like being slashed with a knife all over.”

Regulus’ breath hitched as he let his eyes travel from gauze to gauze. His fingers came up to linger near a particularly large bandage that travelled from your shoulder in under your hospital gown. “All over?” His voice was a mere whisper before he finally looked in your eyes again. He found them teary, and his heart clenched painfully.

“Yeah, I– The biggest one is across my stomach. Pomfrey has patched me up nicely, but it was, uh, it wasn’t good.”

He can’t fight the new tears that spill as he whispers my girl before carefully shuffling closer to you to give you a hug, or at least as close to one you could get right now. His cheek is pressed into yours, his hand on the back of your head, and you can hear him cry directly into your ear, drawing tears from you as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into you. “So sorry, amour.”

“Reggie, there was nothing you could do,” you try to look at him, but his grip on your head remains steadfast.

“No, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your upper cheek, and his lips are wet. “I should’ve been there.”

“Reg, there was no way anyone could have known.”

He pulls back slightly, looking you over to see if he was hurting you before settling in with his forehead against yours – making sure to avoid the wound in the top left. When his eyes look into yours, you feel a sense of calm finally wash over your body that had been riddled by the shock of being torn open. A grey safe haven.

“I’m sorry, amour.” He keeps saying it like a prayer.

You try to shake your head, but wince at the action. His hand immediately shoots up to your jaw, to still your head. Protecting you, even from yourself. “You’re not allowed to be sorry, Reg, you didn’t do anything. You can only feel sorry for me, which isn’t quite that hard. I look pathetic right now.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humour doesn’t seem to drag him from his despair as his eyes keep searching your face, flitting from the tears to the deviating makeup. His thumb, ever so carefully, drags under your eye to wipe away some of the mascara there. You lean into his touch.

“They tried to tell me, but I– I didn’t know, so I didn’t listen and–”

“You were at quidditch practice,” you cut him off. “Everyone knows you can’t be disturbed then.”

Regulus looked at you incredulously. “This is disturb-worthy, you – anything with you is always the biggest priority. I’m sorry.”

“One girl versus preparing for the match of your life? Hm, I think it’s good you weren’t distracted.” You are determined to lighten his mood, the sinch of his eyebrows and worry in his eyes were beginning to make you feel sick for him.

“But you’re my girl,” he says in a low voice, stressing the words as if to pour additional meaning. “You’re my best friend, my everything. Y/N, you are everything.”

You struggle to come up with a response to that. Any mask Regulus switches between is completely discarded in this small infirmary section with you. When he holds your face and looks at you, you know what it is.

Unable to speak over the lump in your throat, you just drag his face closer to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as always.

Except this time, while your lips linger on his cheek, Regulus uses his hand still on your jaw to angle your face towards his. With your lips millimetres apart, he looks from them to your eyes, searching for something, and then back down. He whispers another soft everything before pressing his lips to yours.

For all the times you had thought of kissing Regulus, nothing compared. You never expected there to be salty from tears, you never imagined his scent in your nose to be swirled with the disinfectant covering everything around you – but he was right, it was everything. His lips were unbelievably soft against yours, even as he pushed himself even closer to you, as if he needed you underneath his skin, not just on top of it. The pinky underneath your jaw digs into your skin, and you can feel your pulse beat against his finger.

When Regulus pulls away, your mouths are still essentially connected, slightly parted, just breathing into each other. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with nothing short of love.

“I–”

“I love you.” You cut him off, smiling a bit as he half feigns indignance before it turns soft once more.

“I love you, belle fille.”

“I know.”

Finally, finally he gives you a genuine smile. It eases your nerves more than even his eyes could, and you feel yourself melting back into your pillow. Unfortunately, comfort makes you even more aware of the pain and soreness in your body, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, mostly to himself it seems.

“I won’t allow that.” You tug your intertwined hands closer to you, wanting to share the comfort with him. “I’m alright, Reggie.”

“You’re wounded and bandaged.”

“And I’m perfectly okay.”

He gives you an as if look, but it’s good enough for you, for now. Then his face twisted into something darker and you saw the same desperation from earlier bubbling to the surface.

“What happened to Snape? And Avery?” His hold on you is still soft and caring, but the rest of his body has grown stiff, mind racing with imagined visions of what went down and of what he would do with them in return.

“Nothing yet,” you said with a careful, measured voice. “Kettleburn wanted to ease the situation first, but since it was technically his fault for bringing us along unprompted, I’m not sure what would be done. Detention maybe?”

“Yeah, Kettleburn’s an idiot for that, but Snape was the one who used an unorthodox and probably dark hex. He has to be dealt with.”

Though you don’t condone how fast some of your friends resorted to revenge and violence, even you had to admit that the idea of Snape knowing magic like that didn’t sit right with you either. There was no situation you could imagine where a slasher spell like that would be moral in combat. 

“I’m sure they will deal with him tomorrow,” you settle on. “Tonight the main priority seemed to be making sure I don’t bleed out on the grounds.”

Regulus’ look was pained as he pressed his lips together. “How did you get in after that anyway?”

“I don’t remember too well.” You truly didn’t, and the flashes that went through your mind were not ones Regulus would be better off knowing about. “Kettleburn shushed the Hippogriff back into the forest – it thankfully didn’t get severely injured it seemed – while everyone else panicked. Lily and Marlene were the first ones by my side.”

You both smile absentmindedly at that. When you first befriended Lily through your study sessions at the library, Regulus had been unsure of how to approach your joint integration into his brother’s friend group, but the girls had turned out to be some of the best friends you could have asked for. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, almost straddling Regulus. “Almost forgot, but you’ll be happy to know that Marlene suckerpunched Snape before they brought me inside with a levitation spell. Pretty gnarly punch, too.”

Regulus’ smiled seemed to be less from gratification and more from endearment from you. “I think I’d like to see Snape get a little more than a punch for what he did to you. But that’s a great start, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “It’s a start. And again, we can deal with all of that tomorrow. I don’t have the energy today.”

“No, no, you are the only priority right now, amour.” Any mirth slipped from his face as he studied you concernedly once more.

“I know you’re “alright”, but you’re not alright” he started. “Could you tell me where it hurt the most?” He looks over you again, as if he can map you out and fight your pain off, spot by spot.

“My stomach and chest got it worst,” you admit. “It’s growing more sore, but Madam said I could get more pain relief in just a little while.”

“Well, she also said I could only stay here for a short while,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking towards the curtain as if he expected it to be ripped back any minute. “Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

“Maybe she heard us crying like babies over a non-fatal injury and figured it was less of a hassle to leave us to it.” You squeeze Regulus’ thigh with a grin and he bites back a yelp.

“She would be wise to do so. Especially because there’s no bloody way I’m leaving.”

You don’t say much to that because you really, really don’t want him to either. You know you are fine, and for his sake you try and seem even more assured of it, but the white panic that soared through your veins those first few minutes is hard to shake. Even though you don’t want him to hold his absence against himself, you don’t like the thought of him leaving now that he was there.

“Has she said anything about a treatment plan? How long you’ll be here? She said you’re fine, so it shouldn’t be too long right?” Though Regulus looks at you as he asks his questions, you know he is already trying to piece together probable answers in his head.

“Most of our first conversation was her narrating what she was doing while I was moaning and not listening.” Your comment was off-handed, but Regulus seemed to wince at the image it painted in his head. “Sorry,” you mumbled bashfully, but he just gave you a smile.”

“Good thing I have the memory of an elephant, then.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded just seconds before she ripped the curtain back and stepped into your little bubble. 

Regulus went straight into autopilot, rightening his posture and schooling his expression. You squeezed his hand tighter, so that he couldn’t pull away, but that had not even been any option in his mind. Pomfrey went through the station beside you at the speed of light, way too familiar and comfortable with these procedures.

“Miss L/N had 5 deep lacerations and several shallow ones,” she begins to recite and Regulus hangs onto every word. “The shallow wounds are almost entirely gone from the treatment already, but the more severe ones will need time to recover. She will have to stay in the infirmary overnight today and tomorrow for observation and continue to receive some medication. Among those are pain potions and salves for the wounds. Rebandage every 10 hours and apply new salves.”

“How will that affect her?” Regulus asked, probably pushing his luck with the matron.

“The pain potions will make her a bit slow and groggy, but she will still be awake. Though she should sleep.” At that she gives you a curt look over her shoulder. “The healing process for the wounds will likely be itchy and uncomfortable and she may develop a fever. We will pay particularly close attention to the stomach wounds in case she develops any infections there.”

“What are the symptoms of infections like that?”

You try and pat Regulus’ leg to say down, boy, but he doesn’t give you the time of day, instead focusing fully on any and all information the matron is willing to share with him. You had half a mind to joke that this was private medical information, but let it be.

Madam Pomfrey turns to Regulus at his fourth question, putting her hands on her hips as she measured him closely. It seemed like she decided on something and the next second she exited through the curtains again. You and Regulus barely had time to exchange a glance before she came back and threw a white coat at Regulus who catched it bewilderedly.

“Seems like I’ve got myself an assistant for the remainder of her stay, haven’t I, Mr. Black?”

A slow smile spreads across Regulus’ face before he hurries on the coat. “Yes, Madam.”

Pomfrey talks you – and now, Regulus – through the new pain potion she is about to give you, giving brief background on the ingredients, application and effect when the door to the infirmary slams open, decidedly louder than when Regulus entered earlier. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if pained by the disrespect and incredulity of students, but finished giving you the potion.

“That is no way to enter an infirmary, Mr. Crouch,” she says through half-gritted teeth as she works. She waves at Regulus to open the curtain to your bed, revealing Barty, Evan and Dorcas, all heaving as if they have been running too. “You seem to be particularly loved, Miss L/N. Please never get injured again, it disturbs my workspace.”

Your friends’ eyes are wide as they take in your form where you lay, still rather pathetically, in your bed. 

“Merlin’s tits, what happened?” Dorcas asks.

At the same time Barty’s gaze flits between you and Regulus. “Who?” he asks, while looking at you.

“I–” you start, but that was clearly the wrong answer because he then immediately turns to Regulus instead.

“Who?”

There is no hesitation in Regulus’ voice. “Snape.”

Barty’s face morphs from shock and concern into pure determination. He stalks over to you in three wide steps, pressing a quick kiss to the safe side of your forehead, whispering a quiet take care, Treasure, before turning around and dragging Evan out of the infirmary. The other boy’s jaw was ticked shut and went more than willingly.

Even you felt a bit bad for Snape in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey, however, only breathed a sigh of relief that they left so quickly.

Dorcas comes up between you and Regulus, sitting on the very edge of your bed. Pomfrey, with Regulus’ assistance return to the work on your bedside station, though his eyes are on you almost the whole time. He has that furrow between his brows that shows up whenever he focuses intently, and you are torn between wanting to kiss it and draw it.

“We met Marls and Lily in the hallway,” Dorcas explains. “They got halfway through their story before Junior took off with us on leash behind us.”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh, trying to hide how the rumble hurts you. “But really, I’m totally fine. Or, I’m relatively good, and will soon be alright.”

“Yeah, especially when you’ve got two nurses to tend to you,” Dorcas teases, casting Regulus a knowing sideways glance.

“Pardon you, Miss Meadows; I am a Healer.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Despite never wanting to return to this infirmary, you had grown quite fond of the Madam.

“My deepest apologies, Madam,” Dorcas offered with a gleam in her eyes. You could have sworn you saw Pomfrey smile ever so slightly.

“But yeah, Dorc, I’m well taken care of. I’ll be fine.”

“Firstly, just because you’re wounded does not mean you can get away with calling me that.” You laugh once more, happy to not be treated like a dying animal even in such a grave hour. “Secondly, I’m glad. You deserve it, and it was about damn time.”

You pretend to not understand what the last part referred to, but you knew she got you all figured out. You squeeze her leg in a sign of admiration and, perhaps, defeat.

“Thirdly,” Regulus interjects. “You need to either not make her laugh or leave.”

Pomfrey nodded emphatically. 

“Not my fault your girl just finds me absolutely hilarious, Black.” Dorcas winks at you.

“Speaking of someone’s girl,” you drawl, trying to even the playing field, which worked, if Dorcas’ light blush was anything to go off of. “Please tell Marlene I say thank you. I don’t think I got to in the whirl of everything and then everyone was thrown out.”

Dorcas’ smile softens. “I will, babe, but you don’t have to thank her. She’s still a bit worried though, so I’ll tell everyone you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks,” you whisper through a smile, accepting Dorcas’ half-hug before she slips out of the infirmary, which finally returns to its prior quietude.

“That’s enough visitors for today!” Pomfrey explains, clapping her hands together as she is done. “Only staff and patients for the rest of the night.” She shoots Regulus and his white coat a knowing glance.

“Does that mean I can sleep?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so meek, but the pain potion is starting to work, and the more your body relaxes, the more exhausted you realise you are.

Regulus makes a soft cooing sign, coming back to sit on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his and drawing comforting circles on its back. “Yes, amour. We have prepared the station for when we have to wake you in a few hours for reapplication.”

You groan a bit at the thought of being woken, and both your matron and her assistant laugh a bit at you. 

“Better that than affection, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, of course,” you relent, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Pomfrey merely nods before gathering her things and exiting into the rest of the infirmary, pulling your curtain shut behind you. You expect that is the closest she usually gets to a you’re welcome and you accept it heartily.

Regulus shifts into a more comfortable position beside you, back against your headboard, ensuring you are as comfortable and pain-free as possible. He brings your intertwined fingers up to his lips to press delicate butterfly kisses to them. The softness of it all makes you almost want to cry again, but you bite it back, purely because you can’t stand seeing Regulus cry again tonight, and you knew he would.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Your tire does not hide the coyness of your tone and he smiles fondly at you.

“Thank you. Think she figured it was easier that way – and I have always been a top student.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your OWLs.” You turn your head more towards him, smiling. “Such a nerd.”

“I reckon you like that about me.”

“I reckon the same.”

You lean forward and he meets you halfway for a slow kiss. The casualness of it makes it feel all the more important, especially when the past few hours of your life has been anything but.

He leans his head onto yours, drawing you as close as he can with your current circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again and you shake your head beneath his. Before you can tell him no, he continues. “Not just for what happened to you or not being there. Just, I don’t know. Being slow.”

“Didn’t we just agree you were bright?” you tease, but when you turn to see the sincerity in his eyes, you soften. “It’s okay, Regulus. We were both slow.”

Neither of you feel compelled to delve into the details of it, and it makes you feel more at ease. Even with everything, this was just how it was supposed to be.

“I’m glad I have you.” It is the best way to summarise it; it was enough. He smiles warmly at you.

“And I you.” 

You ignore the strain of some of your bandages as you lean closer to kiss him again, where he meets you enthusiastically – it was worth it.

“Go to sleep now, amour. I’ll be here to ease you awake when the time comes. I’ll always be here.”

And he was.

[noahsresources]

DETAILS ABOUT OCS !

send an emoji/description of emoji to learn more about a writer's oc! many of these are taken from my munday asks meme, because i thought it would be fun to make a version for characters too! the prompts are categorized by emoji type and given descriptions in case anyone can't see the symbols. can be used for roleplayers and any general writers alike! for roleplayers, these can also be used for your interpretations of canon characters if you so desire as well!

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒. 💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)? 🚗 CAR — does your oc have a driver's license? can they drive/operate any automobiles/machinery besides cars? ✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person? 🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies? 💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings? 🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos? 📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)? 🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)? 🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities? 🩸 DROP OF BLOOD — what is your oc's blood type?

𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐒. 🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often? 💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know. 💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits? 🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming? 🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons? 🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise? 🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄. 🌈 RAINBOW — what is your oc's sexual orientation/gender identity? what pronouns do they use? 🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday? 🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets? 🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends? 🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal? 🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature? 🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND — what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school? 🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening? 🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒. ❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits? 🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits? 💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits? 💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them? 🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends? 💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any? 💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside? 💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world? 💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background? 🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒. 🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs? 🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)? 🍰 SHORTCAKE — what is/are your oc's favorite sweet(s)/dessert(s)? 🍦 SOFT ICE CREAM — what is/are your oc's favorite ice cream flavor(s)? 🍔 HAMBURGER — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer? 🥯 BAGEL — what does your oc's typical breakfast look like? do they usually eat breakfast? 🥪 SANDWICH — what does your oc's typical lunch look like? do they usually eat lunch? 🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner? 🍸 COCKTAIL GLASS — what is your oc's favorite alcoholic drink, if they can drink? ☕️ HOT BEVERAGE — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄. 😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life? 😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved? 🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? 🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional? 🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy? 🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions? 😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool? 😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge? 😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone? 🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily? 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?

[ellecdc]

Hi!! I love love love your Finnick fics. I saw your requests are open and thought I would try one!

I was thinking reader and Finnick reuniting in either District 13 or after in the capitol when the rebels have taken it over. It could be a separation due to an Annie situation or something different. No worries if this doesn’t sound interesting to you! 🤍

thanks for your request! I absolutely love the district 13 reunion trope, but I had never read one based in the Capitol before so I decided to give that one a try. I hope I did it justice!

Finnick Odair x fem!reader who he will always find [1.5k words]

CW: potentially ooc Finnick BUT I did it on purpose because I think his unyielding loyalty and sense of duty is what ultimately killed him so SUE ME for making him selfish just ONCE 😭, angst with a happy ending

Everything Finnick had endured and smiled through since his own Games back at merely 14 years old had been for the benefit of others. The only thing he has ever done for himself was survive his games; and that was more out of desperation and instinct than it was out of any sense of pride. He dressed for the Capitol, he performed for the Capitol, he sold himself to the Capitol in order to keep his family and loved ones safe, he showed up every year in order to give other children a fighting fucking chance to survive their own games, he agreed to protect the Mockingjay for the rebellion, he sacrificed his oldest and dearest friend for their cause and almost lost another. 

He did his best to make another district feel like home even though his heart had quite literally been ripped away from him, all for the benefit of the cause, and even joined their army. 

Today, Finnick had one thing he needed to do for himself. And anyone who found fault with that could, quite frankly, suck his dick. 

“Finnick?” Katniss asks, looking up from the electronic map on the Holo in front of her. “Were you listening?” 

Finnick watches Gale’s jaw tighten at his lack of attention and fights against an eyeroll of his own. That was yet another thing Finnick had been doing as of late: playing mediator for this godawful love triangle. 

“Uhm, listen,” Finnick starts, looking around at the faces of squad 451, “If I get the chance, I’ll meet back up with the rest of you at the president's mansion, okay?” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Gale starts, standing from his crouched position, prompting Finnick to do the same. “Like hell you’re taking off; the plan was to stick together.”

“The plan was to film propos; that plan has changed, and before I go any further, I have someone I need to find.” 

“Finnick…” Katniss starts, tone dripping with pity as she follows him when he takes a few steps backwards and away from the group. “Wait!”

“I’ve done my waiting, Katniss.”

“You can’t just leave!” She calls, prompting him to turn back towards her.

“You got Peeta back!” He nearly sobs, flinging an arm out towards said boy; slightly worse for wear yet still on his feet. “He’s a little broken but he’s in there, Katniss. And even if he wasn’t, at least you know he’s alive. I need to find my Peeta.”

Katniss lets out a sad sigh; eyes searching his face for any signs of hesitation. Finnick knew she’d find none. “She wasn’t with the others; what if she’s already gone?”

Gone. She meant dead. What if you were already dead?

“I would happily die next to her, Katniss. But I won’t die for a movement that means nothing if she’s not here with me.”

Finnick ignores the heat of tears lining his cheeks as he watches Katniss recall how she very nearly gave up on the entire cause herself when she found out Peeta had been taken by the Capitol from the arena. 

Well, Katniss referred to it as left behind, but Peeta was snatched; you were left behind. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

“Listen, we had little time to react; the moment came upon us faster than anyone anticipated and she was nowhere to be found, Odair. I looked; I searched for her, but Plutarch said we had to go.” Haymitch had explained to him.

“I protected YOUR MOCKINGJAY.” Finnick had screamed. “I protected her at the cost of Mags and Johanna. I protect Katniss, you protect my girl; that was the deal.”

“Finnick-”

“That was the deal, and you LEFT HER BEHIND!?” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Finnick had gotten violent, and not on purpose. He had to be sedated for three days after that, and they considered doing it again after Peeta was aired by the capitol, but you and Johanna weren’t. He was sedated again after Peeta and Johanna were rescued from the Capitol, but you were not. 

He was officially back in your last known whereabouts. He didn’t know if he’d find you, but he had to look. 

“We…” Finnick starts as he takes a deep breath, wiping the tears from his face before turning his attention back to someone he had come to consider a friend. “We had somewhere…that we would meet. No one else knew of it, it was safe; if she’s here, I just-”

But Katniss simply nods. “You have to try.”

“I have to try.” He parrots.

Katniss’ eyes flicker between Finnick’s before she suddenly embraces him; the act seemingly shocking both Finnick and herself as he tentatively returns the embrace. 

“Be careful.”

Finnick tries to laugh as he pats her on the back before pulling away. “You be careful; you’re the one they’re all after.”

“We’ll see you out there?” She asks as he backs away. 

Finnick nods. “Look out for one another, yeah?” 

With one final wave - Peeta offering a cautious one of his own while everyone else (save Gale) waved back - Finnick began his journey to the last spot he could possibly hope for you to be.

You itched to leave; to look for him. He was here; after all these weeks he was actually here.

You’d managed to take off early on in the chaos and confusion following the arena being blown up; heart breaking yet simultaneously leaping at the sight of Plutarch’s hovercraft taking off without you, knowing they were going to go rescue your boy.

You let that knowledge be enough as you fought to put enough space between you and the peacekeepers tasked with finding you. 

You managed to overtake two of them, slipped into one of their uniforms and stole their weapons before going to the last place you could think that might possibly be safe; the last place you could think that Finnick might possibly find you. 

The radios you’d pilfered from the peacekeepers alerted you to rebel presence a few days ago, and it was later confirmed that a team including three victors - the Mockingjay, Peeta, and Finnick - were here. 

Here. 

You paced a hole in the floor as you considered your options. The city was large, dangerous, and you’d have to stay hidden; if he saw what appeared to be a peacekeeper approaching him, he’d have to kill you. 

But you could be sitting here indefinitely if you simply waited for him. What if he was in danger? What if he needed you? What if you could help?

Your spiralling was interrupted by a quiet knock on the makeshift door. 

There was a reasonable - perhaps hopeful - part of you that knew if it was a peacekeeper or other rebel forces, they wouldn’t have bothered knocking or alerting you to their presence. 

But years of violence and conflict found you pulling the neckguard of your stolen uniform over your mouth and nose - leaving your eyes and hair exposed - as you moved in the direction of the door with your weapon raised. 

Before you have a moment to react, the door swings open quickly and you are face to face - or, rather, gun to gun - with the love of your life. 

“Finnick?” You whisper, keeping your gun raised as Finnick lowers his own and looks at you with an expression mixed with grief and unadulterated relief. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He lets out with a soft sob, and your gun falls to the ground with a clatter as you throw yourself at him. 

He catches you; of course he catches you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You nearly sob as he lowers the two of you to the ground; overwhelmed with emotions, his legs give out on him as he keeps you pressed tight against his torso. “I can’t believe it. Oh my god.”

You’re nearly keening as you alternate between pressing as many kisses to Finnick’s lips, cheeks, jaw, head - anything you can get your lips on, really - sobbing, and nearly strangling him with the desperation of your embrace. 

“I found you, I found you” Finnick chants like a prayer. “I can’t believe I found you. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re quickly shaking your head as you take hold of his face between your hands. “You don’t have to be sorry; you did exactly what you were supposed to.”

“They left you behind.” He cries. 

“They saved you.” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t argue, simply lowering his forehead to yours as his hands trail up and over your arms, sliding up your neck and then back down again as though he can’t help but touch every single part of you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You repeat again. “I can’t believe you found me.”

“I will always find you.” He insists, pulling your face from where you try shoving it into his neck only to hold it in front of him as he stares at you imploringly. “Do you hear me? I will always find you. I will always find you.” 

“I know, Finn.” You agree. “I know you will.”

[spatialwave]

pink is your colour.

➸ ask: "you're gonna get lipstick all over me" with Viktor while he and reader get ready for an event. I need some fluff right now, I’m grieving )):” — ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 605 ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, lipstick kisses, established relationship, drabble, s1 viktor, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: ok this was so cute to write. going to simply die with all this fluff content you’re sending me!! tysm for asking, love! 🤍 came from this prompt!

A speech and dinner. That’s all Viktor had told you about the event he’d been invited to, alongside Jayce. Enough to understand, but too little to not fully grasp what this mysterious event could be.

You weren’t a councilman, nor were you an academy student. No, you had just been a lucky bird who ran into Viktor one late night when he’d been returning home from the academy, and you were wandering around so you could get things off your mind. It was an off-chance meeting when you stumbled right into him, the song you’d been quietly whistling ripped from your lungs when you toppled backward.

It was fate, the red string, that finally pulled you together. Or that’s what you liked to think.

“So, is this an academy thing?” Your voice rang from your bedroom, perched upon the stool in front of your vanity as you touched up the pink lipstick you’d swiped along your lips, “you’re being awfully quiet about it. What if I dress too fancy and embarrass myself? Or worse, not fancy enough!”

Viktor stepped into the bedroom, hand on his cane as his eyes flickered around the room until they landed on you. Your eyes locked in the reflection, and you turned on your stool, facing up.

You were perfect, wearing a beautiful dress that reached just above your knees. A dress your mother handmade for this occasion, a well-known seamstress in Piltover.

“You look good,” he answered earnestly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “it’s an academy gala, I think. I…” he crinkled his nose, “I don’t really know exactly what it, eh… is. I wasn’t listening when Jayce reminded me.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?” You stood up after packing away your belongings, smoothing down your dress with fingers that had been delicately painted to match the colour of your clothing.

“It’s a fancy Piltover event, they’re all the same. It isn’t a big deal,” Viktor mumbled, looking down and noticing that he’d buttoned up his vest incorrectly, one side lower than the other.

With a sigh, you waltzed over to your lover, hands beating him to the button as you undid them. You were meticulous with your movements, adjusting the clothing along his slender frame once it was rightly fitted.

“Then why do you look so nervous?” Your eyes glanced up to meet his, a smirk pulling one side of your lips up.

“Not nervous,” Viktor rolled his eyes, attempting to pull away, but you were on him too quickly.

“You look good, too. I know you’re worried about it,” you grinned as your lips pressed to his chin, and you peppered a slurry of kisses against his smooth skin. It was enough to bring a smile to his lips, to let his nerves rest.

This was his first event, after all. He had simply withheld the information.

Viktor tried to pull away from your kisses that attacked his cheeks now, grinning like a fool in love, “You’re going to get lipstick all over me,” he groaned, hands grabbing at your jaw so he was able to tear your loving lips from his skin.

He stared down at you, still smiling as giggles erupted from you.

“It’s fine. The colour suits you,” you hummed, knowing very well that your freshly applied lipstick had completely smudged from your lips because there were streaks of pink over his skin.

“You are troublesome, you know that?” he mumbled, trying so hard to be annoyed, but how could he when you looked at him so lovingly.

“Just a little,” you smiled, closing the distance between your lips.