#because i needed to feel some sort of safety somewhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elikajinnie · 7 days ago

Note

hiii!!! can I pleasee request another slytherin!heeseung fiiccc? I have no specifications it’s really up to youu I just miss my slytherin!heeseung 💚��

P: Slytherin!Heeseung X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tension, Feelings Realisation, Taesan cameo, Very Suggestive Content, Jealousy, Teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Rivalry?

Synopsis: Being one of the smartest students at Hogwarts had its perks… and its downsides. Case in point: you’re now stuck tutoring the Slytherin Prince, Lee Heeseung who looks just as thrilled about this arrangement as you are. With his pride and your stubbornness, neither of you want to admit that the tension isn’t just academic frustration, so it’s only a matter of time before someone breaks the ice.

a/n: been letting this sit for too long in my drafts..

You had your fair share of students come and go—some eager, some desperate, and a few who were just hopeless cases trying to coast on charm alone. Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Muggle Studies… you’d tutored in them all. Somewhere along the way, without even meaning to, you'd built a reputation. The kind of reputation that followed you through corridors and whispered in the spaces between classes—one of the gifted ones, the prodigies. The student with the highest potential in your year.

They said you'd make a brilliant Auror one day. That you were bound for something great, something important. You heard it often—from professors, from classmates, from those wide-eyed first-years who nervously asked for help with their essays. Slughorn, in particular, never missed a chance to sing your praises, his twinkling eyes always watching you like he already saw your name in the Prophet headlines.

You didn’t care much for any of that.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the acknowledgment, or that you didn’t enjoy helping others. It was just… none of it felt like you. The applause, the ambition others projected onto you—it never reached deep enough to move you. You did what you were good at because it came naturally. Because it gave you something to focus on. Something to control.

And you wanted your life to be under control. You needed it to be. Every parchment neatly organized, every schedule memorized down to the hour. Your wand movements were precise, your essays meticulously worded, your notes color-coded and charmed to reshuffle themselves in alphabetical order if anyone dared mess with them.

Because if one thing slipped—even just a little—you weren't sure what would happen.

One step out of line, and you didn’t know what to do. Chaos made your skin itch. Uncertainty felt like standing on the edge of a broomstick at impossible heights with no safety charm in place. You didn’t do messy. Or unpredictable. Or reckless.

Which is exactly why he irritated you so much.

Lee Heeseung.

He was everything you disliked wrapped in a too-confident grin and that stupidly charming laugh that echoed through the corridors when you were just trying to concentrate. It was like he had been placed on this earth—sorted into Hogwarts—for the sole purpose of ruining your peace.

He was loud. He was chaotic. He strolled into class five minutes late like he owned the place, hair a mess, tie half-untied, and somehow still managed to get away with it every time. He was too laidback, like he’d never felt the pressure of a deadline in his life. He flirted with danger the way most people flirted with their crushes—boldly, carelessly, like he knew he’d come out unscathed.

And worst of all? He was a professor’s pet.

But not in the hardworking, straight-A kind of way. No, he got away with everything on sheer charisma. He cracked jokes that made even Professor Flitwick chuckle during lectures, and Professor Slughorn—who had once told you that your potion skills were “brilliant for your age”—had the audacity to say Heeseung’s last-minute disaster of a draft had “potential, if not promise.”

You despised him. Truly, sincerely, deeply.

So when Professor McGonagall cornered you after class with that look in her eyes—the one that meant you were about to be volunteered for something you didn’t want—you already knew who it would be.

“Mr. Lee is falling behind in Transfiguration,” she said, as if that were a surprise to anyone. “And I believe you’re the best person to help him.”

Of course you were.

Of course she would say that.

And of course, the next time you saw him, leaning against the wall outside the classroom with his hands in his pockets and that damned smirk on his face, you already knew how this would end.

“Well, well,” he said, pushing off the wall to fall into step beside you. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, genius.”

Merlin help you.

“I have a name, you know,” you muttered, not bothering to look at him.

“Oh, I know it,” he replied, voice dripping with forced enthusiasm. “I’ve heard it enough—‘top of the class this,’ ‘perfect marks that.’ Bet you’ve already got your future planned out by the hour.”

You rolled your eyes. “Flattery won’t make me go easy on you.”

“I’m not trying to flatter you,” he muttered under his breath.

You glanced at him. His usual grin wasn’t quite as smug—if anything, he looked vaguely irritated, like he’d just been assigned detention with a particularly strict professor. Which, to be fair, wasn't that far off.

“If you think I’m thrilled about this,” he added, “you’ve got another thing coming.”

You stopped walking.

Heeseung nearly bumped into you.

“Okay,” you said sharply, turning to face him. “Here’s how this is going to go. You meet me in the library after dinner—on time. You bring your notes, you shut up, and you listen. If you’re not serious about this, don’t waste my time.”

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair like he was already regretting everything.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it,” he muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You didn’t believe him for a second.

Later that evening, you sat at one of the quieter corners of the library, books already spread out, ink bottle open, quill poised. You’d even drafted a lesson plan—because of course you had. You were five minutes early. He was seven minutes late.

Naturally.

When he finally slouched in, he looked every bit like someone headed to a funeral. He dropped his bag onto the table with a dull thud, flopped into the chair across from you, and gave you a dead-eyed stare.

“Can’t believe I’m spending my evening like this.”

“You and me both,” you said flatly, sliding a textbook across the table. “Page seventy-three. We’re starting with Switching Spells. If you’re not at least decent by the end of the week, I’m telling McGonagall to assign someone else.”

Heeseung opened the book with a sigh, flipping to the page like it physically pained him.

“You threatening to give up on me already? We just started.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Try me.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t talk. He just looked at the page like it had personally offended him.

Merlin, this was going to be a long week.

It had been three days. Three long, patience-testing, soul-draining days.

And Heeseung hadn’t taken a single one of them seriously.

Every evening you sat in the same corner of the library with your neatly organized notes and structured lesson plans, and every evening he showed up like it was some sort of social event. He greeted half the students on the way in, stopping mid-step to fist-bump friends, wink at passing girls, and occasionally ruffle the hair of a random first-year like he was the Hogwarts mascot.

And when he finally sat down across from you, he didn’t sit. He slouched. Laid back like the chair was a hammock and this was a holiday. You’d start talking—calmly, clearly, even with diagrams—and he’d nod like he was listening, then immediately start doodling little Quidditch plays in the margins of his parchment. Or worse—he’d turn to whisper to students at the nearby tables. You’d hear little bursts of laughter, the quiet flutter of someone giggling at whatever stupid, charming thing he’d said.

By the fourth time he leaned over to flirt with a girl who “just so happened” to pass by your table, something in you snapped.

You placed your quill down slowly, deliberately, and looked at him.

“Heeseung,” you said with an edge of tight restraint. “Do you mind?”

He turned to you, raising a brow, lips still curled in that maddening grin. “What? Just being friendly.”

“I’m trying to help you,” you said through clenched teeth. “And you’re too busy chatting, drawing, or—Merlin forbid—flirting to actually pay attention. Can you stop wasting my time?”

He blinked innocently. “Aw, come on, are you jealous?”

You inhaled sharply.

“Jealous?” you repeated, your voice calm—dangerously so.

He smirked, eyes dancing. “Of them. All these girls getting my attention when you want it so bad.”

You were this close to hexing him on the spot.

Instead, you exhaled and sat back, pressing your fingers together tightly to keep from reaching for your wand.

“Focus,” you said slowly, voice low but firm. “Please.”

He paused, and for a second—one second—you thought maybe, maybe you’d gotten through to him.

But then he leaned in, resting his chin on his hand as he looked you up and down in a way that made your skin buzz.

“Oh, I’d very gladly focus on you,” he said, voice dropping into that infuriating, flirty drawl. “Whenever I want.”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t blush. You didn’t so much as blink.

Because you knew—everyone knew—that Lee Heeseung was handsome. Stupidly so. And charming. And infuriating. And just the kind of boy you’d spent your whole academic career staying the hell away from.

So instead of reacting, you looked him dead in the eyes and said, flatly, “I’d say you have the attention span of a flobberworm, but honestly? That’s an insult to flobberworms.”

He laughed—laughed—and slouched even further down in his seat.

Then, like he had all the time in the world, he picked up the textbook, flipped it open lazily, and spread his legs under the table like he was stretching out in his dormitory and not the school library.

The audacity.

You were mid-sentence, trying—still trying—to go over the theory of Switching Spells when he tilted the book sideways, squinting at it like the text was written in ancient runes.

You cleared your throat, sharp and pointed.

He didn’t ignore it this time.

His gaze snapped to yours.

But instead of the usual mischief, or that smug grin he wore like second skin, what you got was something else entirely.

Focus.

His undivided attention. His dark eyes locked on you with a sudden intensity that hit you like a Stupefy to the chest.

You almost gasped.

Almost.

Swallowing nervously you forced your voice to remain steady. “Did you get that, or are you just pretending again?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he blinked slowly, then leaned forward—arms resting on the table now. “You talk like I haven’t been listening this whole time.”

You scoffed. “You’ve done everything but listen.”

“I watch,” he said simply. “I pick things up.”

His eyes flicked to your hand, where your fingers gripped the quill just a little too tightly, then back up to your face.

“I pick you up.”

Your pulse stuttered.

You hated how it did that. Hated how your body reacted when your brain was screaming to stay cool.

But you didn’t let it show.

You leaned forward slightly, voice cold and crisp. “Then pick this up too: if you don’t stop wasting my time, I will stop tutoring you. And Professor McGonagall won’t save you from the next exam.”

You then picked up your wand and pointed to the diagram in the book, keeping your eyes on the page and not on the heat of his gaze.

“Now. Watch closely.”

And for once, he did.

His eyes didn’t flick away. No snide comment, no snort of fake interest, no distracted glance at someone walking by. Just full, uninterrupted attention on you.

And you didn’t know if you preferred it when he wasn’t focusing on you.

Because when he wasn’t, it made you annoyed. Angry, even. You could deal with that. You were good at handling irritation. You’d perfected the art of brushing it off, biting back sharp words, and pushing through.

But when he was?

When his gaze followed your every movement, when his expression dropped all traces of that cocky, careless mask he always wore, when he tilted his head just slightly like he was trying to understand you, trying to see how you worked?

It made your skin warm.

It made your throat tighten and your hands go still for a beat too long.

It made you flushed.

You kept your focus on the parchment between you, using it like a shield. You lifted your wand, demonstrated the proper movement for the Switching Spell—slow, precise, circular—and muttered the incantation under your breath. The inkwell and the candle beside it switched places instantly.

“Got it?” you asked, proud of the steadiness in your voice.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Yeah,” he said, a bit lower than usual. “Yeah, I got it.”

You looked up, and there it was again—that look. Not amused. Not impressed. Just… locked in.

You snapped your fingers, trying to shatter the tension like it was just another spell. “Then show me.”

Heeseung leaned back, rolled his shoulders, and picked up his wand with an ease that was almost insulting. For someone who was supposedly failing, he sure held it like he knew what he was doing.

“Don’t half-ass it,” you warned.

He smirked, but there was something less smug about it this time.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and cast the spell.

The movement wasn’t perfect—his circle was too wide—but the objects did switch places, albeit with a small spark and a thud that made the nearby students jump.

You blinked.

He looked down at the table, then up at you with a crooked grin. “Close enough?”

You didn’t say anything at first. Because no, it wasn’t perfect. But it wasn’t bad, either. It was better than anything you expected from him.

“…Lucky shot,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

But he only chuckled, sitting back with that same maddening confidence. “Nah. Told you I pick things up.”

And again, that gaze lingered.

You turned back to your notes to hide the way your pulse betrayed you, scribbling something down just to keep your hands moving.

Because if he kept looking at you like that…

You weren’t sure what would burn first. Your face. Or your patience.

Good news for you was that things did change. Not overnight, but gradually—just enough that it made you question the entire reason you ever thought this tutoring arrangement was a waste of time.

Heeseung didn’t stop acting like a cocky, insufferable idiot, though. No, that part remained stubbornly the same. He’d show up late, talk too much, make offhand comments that usually made you want to hex him, and still find ways to turn every lesson into some kind of twisted competition. But something else had shifted, too—something deeper than his usual antics.

When he listened, he really listened. When he struggled, he admitted it (rarely, but it happened). And when you got frustrated with him, he didn’t ignore it, or brush it off with some half-hearted attempt at humor. No, he seemed... almost genuinely concerned. But only for a second. Then his pride took over again, like some kind of safety mechanism to protect that delicate ego of his.

It was maddening.

One evening, after a particularly tough session with a tricky Transfiguration charm, Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh, running a hand through his hair like the world was falling apart. His textbook lay open in front of him, the pages filled with smudged notes and scribbled doodles.

“I’m just saying,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “Transfiguration isn’t supposed to be this hard. It’s supposed to be about finesse. A little magic here, a little concentration there...”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you still can’t turn your quill into a bird?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

You scoffed, eyes narrowing as you crossed your arms. “What’s your excuse this time?”

“I don’t have an excuse,” he muttered, but his tone lacked the usual bravado. He looked down at his wand, tapping it idly on the table. “Just... sometimes it’s harder than it looks.”

“Sometimes?” You shot him a skeptical glance. “You’ve been barely passing this whole year, Heeseung.”

He flinched at the words, the usual cheeky smile fading for just a second, but then he quickly recovered, slapping his hand on the table with a grin. “It’s not that bad.”

You weren’t having it. “It is that bad. You can’t keep slacking off and expect things to work out, Heeseung. Not everything can be handed to you because of your charm or your looks.”

His expression shifted again—this time, he looked a little less amused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It was your turn to bite back your frustration. “You act like you don’t care about anything but your reputation. But if you actually put in the effort, you might actually get somewhere.”

There was a long, tense silence between the two of you. Heeseung’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, it almost seemed like he was going to snap at you. But then he just looked away, clearly annoyed.

“Whatever,” he muttered, shoving his book aside. “Not like I need to impress anyone. I’m just here because you’re too stubborn to let me fail.”

You scoffed. “You think I care if you fail? I care because you’re better than this. I’ve seen it, Heeseung. I know you’re capable of more than this laziness.”

He shot you a quick, almost bitter smile, though there was something different in his eyes. “So you do care.”

You froze, caught off guard by his words. But you couldn’t let it show, so you quickly masked it with a scoff. “What? No. I just don’t want to waste my time with someone who thinks they can coast through everything. If I’m tutoring you, you might as well try.”

Heeseung leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, a glimmer of that familiar smirk returning. “So, you do care, but not because of me. Got it.”

You glared at him, but there was something in his expression—something that wasn’t the usual cocky arrogance. It was vulnerability, but it lasted only a moment before he buried it under his usual snark.

“I don’t care about your pride, Heeseung. I care about you getting a decent grade. You don’t have to keep acting like you’ve got everything figured out, because trust me—you don’t.”

Heeseung didn’t respond at first, but when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more serious than usual.

“I don’t need anyone’s help, alright?” He looked you in the eye, his expression hardening. “But I’m here because... maybe I want to try. Not for you. But for myself.”

You paused. That wasn’t what you were expecting. But instead of softening in the moment, you just shook your head.

“Then stop pretending it’s all easy. Focus, Heeseung. Or you’re not going to get anywhere.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze unreadable, before his lips curled into that annoying half-smile.

“Fine,” he said, pushing the book back in front of him. “But don’t act like I’m going to be good at it just because you say so.”

“Don’t act like you’re above it, and we’ll get along just fine.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, the motion so exaggerated that it almost looked like it hurt. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, genius. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You just glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he grabbed a piece of parchment, uncaringly scribbling something down, his concentration on the paper only lasting a second. And then—of course—he crumpled it into a ball, smirking like a mischievous child.

Before you could even react, he flicked his wand, and the ball unfolded, neatly transformed into a paper plane. With another flick of his wand, he sent it sailing through the air.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

It flew across the table and landed with ease at a nearby group of girls who were quietly studying—or so you thought. They looked up, surprised at first, but as one of them picked up the paper, curiosity lit up in their eyes. She unfolded it, quickly scanning the message, then immediately burst into giggles. The others leaned in to read it, then broke into even louder giggles.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the table, watching as they passed the note around. The girls all glanced at Heeseung, their giggles escalating.

Heeseung, as usual, couldn’t resist. He winked at them, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips, before looking back at you.

You groaned, rubbing your temple in disbelief. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he casually surveyed the girls across the room, whose attention was now entirely on him.

“You know,” he drawled, his voice low, “you should stop groaning so much. It’s a little... distracting.”

You glared at him, but the look on his face told you he was only getting started. He leaned in, dropping his voice an octave lower as his eyes slowly traced over you—way too much attention for your liking.

“Tell me," he teased, voice dripping with mischief, “what other sounds can you make?”

You felt your heart jump in your chest, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you just crossed your arms, straightened your posture, and focused on the textbook in front of you, trying to act like he didn’t just pull your focus away from everything you were trying to do.

But then—damn him—he took his time eyeing you up and down, and that was when he did it: He bit his bottom lip slowly, like he knew exactly what that simple motion was doing to you.

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks despite yourself. It was bad enough he was acting like this—completely insufferable. But the worst part? It was working.

You shook your head, pushing the feelings down. "You’re so annoying," you muttered, knowing full well you’d never get through this session if you kept reacting to his ridiculous antics.

He leaned back in his chair again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t bite... unless you want me to.”

You wanted to throw your book at him. You really did. But you didn’t. Instead, you just rubbed your temples again, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You’re wasting my time, Heeseung. Focus.”

“Focus?” He arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m always focused. You’re the one with the fascinating reactions.”

You opened your mouth to snap back at him, but he was already standing, stretching his arms above his head, clearly in no hurry to actually do any of the work you’d assigned.

“What are you doing?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Taking a break,” he said, flashing you another one of those infuriating smiles. “You’ve been at this for hours. Don’t tell me you don’t need one, too.”

Your fingers twitched toward your wand, ready to curse him into next week, but instead, you held yourself back. “I’m fine,” you said, voice tight. “You go ahead and enjoy your little break.”

He winked at you again before strolling over to the girls at the other table, as if they were more interesting than your study session—or you, for that matter.

And it drove you mad. He’d clearly given up on pretending to care about the lesson, and that annoyed you more than it should have.

You were left to grumble quietly under your breath, flipping through the pages of the textbook without really reading a word. You could feel the frustration building again. No matter how much you tried to focus, you kept thinking about how much easier it would be to just report Heeseung to Professor McGonagall and be done with it. The constant interruptions, the childish distractions—he was making it impossible to tutor him. But then again, you had agreed. You’d taken this on because you thought you could make him better, and you hated admitting when something was beyond your control.

But with every lesson that went by and with Heeseung clearly not caring, your patience was running thin. You had a reputation to protect, and you refused to let him make a mockery of that. But deep down, you were tired. And that was the part you hated the most, the fact that you did care, even if he didn’t seem to.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely even noticed the shift in the air around you. It wasn’t until you heard a voice call your name that you snapped out of it.

“Hey,” the voice was familiar—warm and friendly. “Mind if I sit?”

You blinked, looking up from your notes to see your friend Taesan sliding into the seat next to you.

“Taesan?” you muttered, surprised but relieved to see him. You hadn’t even realized you were so wound up. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice light as he dropped his bag beside him and began pulling out his own materials. He looked over at the table where Heeseung was still chatting with the girls, the laughter from across the room not at all surprising to him. “Is that your project for the day?” He nodded toward your open Transfiguration textbook.

You snorted, rubbing the back of your neck as you forced yourself to relax. “You could say that. More like a hopeless case.”

Taesan raised an eyebrow. “A hopeless case? Someone finally getting under your skin?” He turned to look at Heeseung with a knowing glance. “I take it the charm of Mr. Unpredictable isn’t working in your favor?”

You sighed, closing the book with a snap, the frustration bubbling over despite your best efforts to hold it in. “Heeseung isn’t getting anywhere. He doesn’t even try. He just ignored me at first. But now, he’s making me look like a joke.”

“Sounds like he’s really pushing your buttons,” Taesan remarked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “But you’re not giving up, right? Because if you’re thinking of quitting, I’ll need to get some popcorn for this show.”

You rolled your eyes, but his words made you pause. You couldn’t give up, could you? Not after everything you’d put into trying to help him. You weren’t the type to throw in the towel—especially not now.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, almost to yourself. “He’s just making everything so much harder than it needs to be. I don’t know how much more I can do, Taesan. I’ve tried everything.”

Taesan leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head in that carefree way he always did, his expression suddenly serious. “You know, sometimes people act out because they’re scared. Or because they don’t want to face what’s right in front of them. Maybe that’s why Heeseung’s acting like such a... pain in the ass.” He looked at you, then back at Heeseung. “He might need someone to call him on his crap. But it’s clear that someone isn’t gonna be you unless you’re okay with taking the risk.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond. “But I can’t just... let it slide. I’m responsible for this. I said I’d help him. If I bail now, I’d look like I can’t even keep my word.”

Taesan shrugged nonchalantly. “So what? If you need a break, you need a break. You’re not going to be able to help him if you’re burning out yourself.”

He had a point. You were burning out. It wasn’t just Heeseung—it was all the pressure you’d put on yourself to fix everything. You hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing on you until this moment.

Taesan smiled knowingly. “Look, whatever you decide, just remember that you don’t have to do it alone. Sometimes even the people who act like they don’t care the most are the ones who need help the most. But you can’t save him if you’re drowning yourself.”

You exhaled slowly, letting his words sink in. “I don’t even know how to start,” you said softly.

“Then start by letting go of the idea that you have to do it all,” Taesan said, giving you a reassuring look. “You don’t have to fix him. Just... let him find his own way. But you’ve got to stop trying to control everything. It’ll help.”

You were silent for a long moment, the weight of his words settling over you. Maybe you didn’t have to fix everything. Maybe you just needed to let Heeseung handle his own mess for once.

But you couldn’t help the lingering doubt. Was you stepping back enough? Would he finally get it?

Taesan snapped his fingers, pulling you from your thoughts. “Hey, we’re friends, right? So don’t think you’re getting away that easily. You are going to help me with Herbology later, right?”

You smiled, despite the lingering frustration. “Yeah, I guess I owe you one.”

He chuckled and nudged you with his shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Taesan's lighthearted smile pulled you out of your thoughts as you looked over at him. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little too. It felt good to just be with someone who didn’t make everything feel like a battle. He was calm, focused, and actually listened.

“Alright,” you said, shifting your attention to Taesan’s Herbology assignment, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

He grinned sheepishly, pulling out a parchment covered in messy notes. “I know, I know, I’ve been slacking on this. Help me out, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’ll give you the basics. The rest is on you.”

The two of you spent the next while reviewing the material together—practical plant care, the finer points of herbology ingredients, and their magical uses. The difference between working with Taesan and Heeseung was night and day. Taesan actually engaged with the lesson, asked questions when he was confused, and gave you his full attention. It felt like a relief. You were able to help him piece everything together, and you even managed to finish his assignment far faster than you’d expected.

“So,” Taesan said, setting down his quill, “how’d I do?”

You reviewed his work with a critical eye before nodding. “Better than usual. Just pay more attention to the details next time, but overall, not bad.”

Taesan looked pleased, but then his smile faltered slightly as he glanced over your shoulder. You heard the familiar sound of footsteps, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you knew exactly who it was before you even turned around.

Heeseung.

And the look on his face made your stomach drop.

He wasn’t mad, per se, but his gaze was sharp—like a storm brewing just behind those dark eyes. And more importantly, he wasn’t happy to see Taesan sitting there.

Taesan, ever the easygoing one, noticed the shift in Heeseung’s demeanor and raised an eyebrow. “Did I miss something, or is there a problem, Heeseung?”

Heeseung’s gaze flicked between you and Taesan, his jaw tightening for a brief second before he forced a smirk onto his face. “No problem,” he said, his voice too casual to be genuine. “I just didn’t realize you two were so cozy.”

You could feel your nerves tingle, and you noticed Taesan’s posture shift slightly. You quickly turned to face Heeseung, trying to keep your voice steady.

“You’re late,” you said, keeping the irritation from creeping in. “Did you finally get done with your ‘break’?”

Heeseung didn’t answer you right away. Instead, he glanced back at Taesan again, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I didn’t think I needed an invitation to join the fun, but I see you’ve found someone else to entertain you.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued, “You sure he’s... worthy of your time?”

Taesan didn’t even flinch at the insinuation. He leaned back in his chair, clearly unfazed by Heeseung’s attempt at intimidation. “I don’t need your approval, mate. We were just talking—something you might want to try more of.”

You could feel the tension crackling between them. It wasn’t the first time Heeseung had been possessive or thrown a subtle jab, but you couldn’t help the growing sense of discomfort that settled in your chest.

“I’m here to study, not to deal with this,” you said, cutting in before things escalated any further. You stood up, setting your quill down with a little more force than necessary. “Heeseung, sit down. Let’s get this over with.”

Heeseung looked at you for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he did as you asked. He pulled out the seat across from you, though he was clearly still holding a grudge.

You sat back down, trying to ignore the tense atmosphere between him and Taesan, who was now staring Heeseung down with the same quiet defiance. There was a moment where you thought Heeseung might open his mouth and throw a remark, but then, he just sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered, dropping his bag on the table and flipping open his textbook. “Let’s get this over with.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. Taesan, sensing that things had shifted enough, gave you a small, almost apologetic smile before standing up to gather his things. “I’m gonna head out. Looks like you’ve got this under control,” he said, his tone still light, though there was a knowing edge to it.

You nodded gratefully, smiling back at him. “Thanks, Taesan. Don’t worry about me.”

Taesan gave you a casual wave before heading toward the door, leaving you alone with Heeseung.

Once he was gone, the tension in the air thickened. Heeseung didn’t look at you, instead focusing on the book in front of him, but you could feel the way his mood had shifted. The easygoing act was gone. Now, it was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure how this was going to go.

“So,” you said, trying to fill the awkward silence, “ready to focus?”

Heeseung didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he turned his attention to the textbook in front of him, flipping through the pages with surprising focus. For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of parchment and the quiet humming from Heeseung. You waited, unsure of whether you should prod further or just let him work.

To your surprise, he muttered something under his breath, then pointed his wand at the textbook, murmuring the incantation. You had expected him to stumble, as he had so many times before. But when he flicked his wrist, the transformation happened on the first try. The object on the table shifted seamlessly—just like it was supposed to.

You blinked, staring at him for a moment, before glancing at the textbook. It was perfect.

“Did you... just—?” You couldn’t even finish your question, your surprise evident in your voice.

Heeseung didn’t seem fazed at all. He shrugged nonchalantly, dropping his wand onto the table with a casual gesture. “Yeah. First try. I’m not completely hopeless, you know.”

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it. For the last few days, you’d been ready to give up on him, thinking he was either not trying or just plain incapable. But this? This was... different.

“You’ve been holding back, haven’t you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. Something didn’t sit right. It was too easy, too quick for someone who had been struggling with the incantations for so long.

Heeseung glanced at you with a bored expression, as if he couldn’t care less about your suspicion. “No, I just didn’t feel like trying before. But if you want me to pass, guess I have to get serious.” He said it like it was no big deal, like it was nothing.

You stared at him, speechless for a moment, before you caught yourself. This wasn’t the Heeseung you were used to. No, this one was determined. And the fact that he’d done it so effortlessly made you wonder just how much of his previous behavior was an act.

“You’re telling me you’ve been pretending this whole time?” You couldn’t quite hide the incredulity in your voice. “You’ve been messing around just for fun?”

Heeseung met your gaze, his expression unreadable. “Maybe,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a small, mischievous smile. “Or maybe I just didn’t think you’d be able to handle it.”

You felt a sharp pang of annoyance rise up. “Handle it? You’ve been wasting my time with this nonsense?”

Heeseung’s smile widened slightly, but there was no mockery in it. “Well, it’s not like I’ve been completely wasting your time,” he said lightly. “Look at you. You’ve been pushing yourself so hard, just to fix me. And now... well, now you get to see that I’m capable of more than you think.”

For a split second, you were caught off guard by the way he said it. His words weren’t condescending, nor were they playful in the usual way.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “This is so much more complicated than I thought.”

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “Life is complicated. You should know that by now.”

And with that, he grabbed his wand again, flicking it casually at the book in front of him, demonstrating the spell again, as if to prove a point.

Again, there was no hesitation in his movements. Just a simple, clean transformation of the object on the page.

You had to admit it—he’d done it again. Perfectly.

You couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved. Was Heeseung really just playing you the whole time? Or was there something else going on here? Either way, you had no idea what to make of it.

“Alright, you’re done,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Just... don’t let it go to your head.”

Heeseung didn’t respond at first, but you could feel his gaze on you as he packed away his things. When he did speak, it was quieter than before, almost... serious.

“I’m just getting started...”

It was the first time he’d said anything without his usual swagger. And it sent a ripple of unease through you.

It was much easier for you to get Heeseung to focus after that day. His sudden progress—effortless and unnerving—was like a shift in the universe that made everything feel just a bit off. He listened now, followed instructions without teasing, and actually managed to nail every single spell you demonstrated. For once, he wasn’t playing games. The lessons were no longer frustrating. They were... manageable.

But you couldn’t shake the suspicion that had wormed its way into your mind.

It was too much of a coincidence that Heeseung’s sudden motivation came right after he saw you with Taesan. And it wasn’t like you were blind. You knew there was something between them. You weren’t stupid. The way Heeseung would glare at Taesan, the tension between them—it was obvious.

You could tell from their interactions that there was a rivalry, maybe even something more personal. The small comments Heeseung had made, the way he’d been on edge when he saw Taesan at the library, it didn’t take much to piece it together. You weren’t used to meddling in other people’s business, but this situation had you curious. You weren’t sure if it was just Heeseung being... Heeseung, or if there was something else at play.

So, you did what anyone would do when they were curious: you asked Taesan.

It wasn’t hard to find him. He was sitting at a table in the Great Hall, eating with a few friends. You walked over and slid into the seat across from him, giving him a small smile.

"Hey," you said casually, your voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear. "I need to ask you something."

Taesan looked up from his meal, pausing when he saw the seriousness on your face. “Sure, what’s up?”

You glanced over at Heeseung, who was sitting at a table nearby, surrounded by his usual crowd. He looked as smug as ever, but you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to you and Taesan for a moment.

“Is there something going on between you and Heeseung?” you asked bluntly, cutting straight to the point.

Taesan blinked at you in surprise, but then he chuckled, shaking his head. “You noticed, huh?”

“Of course I did. You two are clearly not on the best terms. What’s going on?”

Taesan leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful for a moment before he spoke. "We’re rivals. Quidditch rivals, to be exact." He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know the competition, right? He’s a Chaser, I’m the Seeker. We’ve been going at it for years.”

You raised an eyebrow. "Quidditch? That’s it?"

Taesan chuckled again, this time with a bit more warmth. “It’s more than just the game. There’s... a bit of history between us. It goes beyond the pitch. We’ve always been at odds. Heeseung likes to act like he’s all carefree and cool, but trust me, there’s a lot of pride under that laid-back act.”

You couldn’t help but frown at that. Of course Heeseung had pride. You’d seen it firsthand. But you didn’t realize how much of it was tied up in something as simple as a rivalry. It felt deeper than that, more personal.

So you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “You said it goes beyond the pitch. What did you mean by that? What history?”

Taesan let out a long, tired sigh, raking a hand through his hair. He looked like he was debating whether or not to tell you, but in the end, he gave in with a shrug.

“It’s stupid, really,” he muttered. “But back in fourth year, there was… a girl.”

You blinked. “A girl?”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at you as if gauging your reaction. “She wasn’t just any girl, either. She was brilliant—top of her class in Charms, wicked on a broomstick, and not afraid to throw a Bat-Bogey Hex at anyone who crossed her. Both Heeseung and I were… interested.”

You stared at him, trying to picture it. Heeseung chasing after someone with the same chaos and cocky charm he always wore like a badge. And Taesan—calm, composed Taesan—competing alongside him? That was a dynamic you hadn’t imagined before.

“So… what happened?” you asked slowly.

“We both tried to win her over,” Taesan explained, his voice laced with the bitterness of old memory. “It got competitive fast. Dumb things. Dueling in secret, trying to outshine each other in class, showing off during Quidditch matches. She didn’t pick either of us in the end.”

You tilted your head, brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“She got expelled,” he said flatly.

Your eyes widened. “Wait—what?”

Taesan nodded, a bit grimly. “Turns out she was experimenting with some really dangerous spells. Things that weren’t exactly legal. Word got out. She was caught with a restricted book and some potion ingredients that she shouldn't have had access to. Boom. Gone. Just like that.”

You sat there in stunned silence, processing that. “And neither of you knew?”

“Not a clue,” Taesan admitted. “We were both so wrapped up in competing, we didn’t even realize what she was up to. After that, everything between me and Heeseung just… soured. It stopped being friendly competition. It turned personal. Real fast.”

You looked over at Heeseung’s table again, at the way he leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, laughing at something one of his mates said. You never would’ve guessed a story like that lived behind the easy smirks and constant flirting.

“Merlin,” you muttered under your breath.

Taesan gave you a wry smile. “Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s kind of tragic,” you said honestly.

“Yeah, well, so is being stuck tutoring him,” Taesan joked, nudging you with his elbow again. “You’ve got patience. I’ll give you that.”

You huffed, more to yourself than anyone else. Because the more you learned, the less simple Heeseung became. And for someone who liked things to be controlled and straightforward… you had a feeling you were walking right into the storm without even meaning to.

You were mid-grumble, muttering something to Taesan about prideful idiots and hopeless causes when you suddenly felt it—that eerie, unmistakable tingle of someone standing directly behind you. Too close. Too quiet.

Taesan’s eyes flicked up from his plate, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Oh—Heeseung.”

Wait. What?

Your heart stuttered.

Heeseung was right behind you?

Before you could turn, before you could even react, strong arms wrapped around you from behind, and you were abruptly pulled to your feet with a surprised yelp that got caught in your throat. Your back hit a solid chest—his chest—and before you could squirm away, he had you trapped there, completely engulfed in his arms like this was a normal thing. Like this was something he always did.

“What are you two gossiping about, hmm?” His voice was low, teasing, warm against your ear.

You blinked, stunned, a thousand questions swirling in your head—but your body was locked up, frozen by the sudden contact, by how close he was, by how tight his grip had become around your waist. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t loose. It was possessive. Like he dared you to even think about slipping out of his grasp.

Taesan just chuckled from across the table, completely unbothered. “Nothing much. Just how tragic it is that someone needs tutoring in the first place.”

You could hear the grin in Heeseung’s voice. “Ah, I’m sure you’re both having a lovely little bonding moment over my academic struggles.”

“We were,” Taesan said casually. “Right up until you crashed it.”

You tried to move—just a little. But Heeseung’s arm only tightened, pressing you a fraction closer, like he was trying to make a point.

“Comfortable?” he murmured, eyes probably dancing with amusement.

You finally managed to find your voice, though it came out a bit strangled. “Heeseung. Let go.”

He didn’t. Instead, he dipped his head, speaking just loud enough for you to hear. “You smell like cinnamon.”

You almost choked.

“Heeseung.” You tried again, firmer this time, ignoring the burning in your cheeks.

But he didn’t budge. If anything, his hold on you tightened subtly, his mouth lowering just enough that his breath brushed the shell of your ear.

“You know,” he murmured, voice low and smooth like velvet, “you get this little crease between your eyebrows when you’re annoyed… it’s kind of cute.”

You stiffened.

“And when you blush,” he continued, tilting his head closer until his nose nearly brushed your jaw, “it climbs all the way to your ears. Like right now.”

Your breath hitched—barely, but enough.

Taesan, ever the gentleman—or maybe just wisely pretending not to see anything—went back to his food with a quiet hum, though you noticed the small smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

You tried to wriggle free again, but Heeseung was already turning you slightly, his arm sliding around your waist, guiding you like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Come on,” he said softly, lips still far too close to your skin. “You’re too tense. Let's get some air.”

“Heeseung—”

“Shh,” he said, the sound near your ear making your skin erupt in goosebumps. “You’ll thank me.”

And before you could protest again, he was steering you smoothly out of the Great Hall like it was his own personal ballroom and you were a dance partner he’d claimed without asking.

You glanced behind you in disbelief, catching Taesan’s knowing gaze as he lazily chewed on a piece of toast and lifted a subtle eyebrow, like told you so.

Heeseung didn’t stop until you were halfway down a corridor just outside the Hall, where the hum of voices faded behind you and the only sound was the soft echo of your shoes against the stone floor.

“Can you let go now?” you muttered, though your voice wasn’t nearly as sharp as it should’ve been. It came out softer than you intended, too laced with the breathlessness he always seemed to draw out of you—like he knew exactly how to unravel your composure.

He didn’t move at first.

Heeseung just looked at you, head tilted slightly, eyes flicking across your face as if he was reading something only he could see. “No,” he said finally, voice low. “Not yet.”

You blinked. “Why not?”

His grip around your waist loosened, but only so he could trail his fingers along the side of your arm. “Because the second I do, you’re going to run,” he murmured. “And I’m not done messing with you yet.”

You stared at him, heart pounding. “I’m not some game, Heeseung.”

His gaze softened for a fleeting second. “I know.”

Then—just like that—his expression shifted again. That cocky grin returned, sharp and smug. “But I do like the way you play.”

You scoffed, trying to push away from him, but he caught your wrist gently before you could take a step back.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m not dragging you into a dungeon. I just wanted you away from him.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Taesan?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Quidditch boy. With the puppy eyes and that little half-smile like he’s the good guy in a tragic romance. Please.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “Are you jealous?”

Heeseung laughed—loud, unbothered, head tipping back just a little as the sound echoed off the stone walls. “Jealous? Trust me, princess,” he said, flashing you a lazy grin, “if I was jealous, you wouldn’t be standing all prim and proper like this.”

Your brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes dark with mischief, and in a low, velvety whisper he said, “You know exactly what I mean.”

You stiffened. Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Because Merlin help you, you did know what he meant.

Heeseung’s gaze dragged down the line of your body and then right back up, settling on your mouth for a fraction too long before he smirked again—like he’d just won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Your heart was thudding in your ears, heat climbing your neck as you instinctively crossed your arms—whether to shield yourself from his gaze or stop yourself from grabbing him by the collar, you weren’t entirely sure.

Damn him. Damn him and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid everything.

You clenched your jaw, staring hard at the empty stretch of corridor ahead of you instead of the very real, very smug boy standing beside you. If you looked at him now—if you met his eyes—you knew you’d lose the last ounce of control you were holding onto by a thread.

“For what reason exactly,” you eventually bit out, “did you drag me out of the Great Hall like some deranged lunatic?”

Heeseung only hummed, hands casually stuffed in his pockets like he hadn’t just manhandled you in front of half the school. “Hmm… good question.”

You turned to him sharply, fully prepared to tear into him again, when he finally moved.

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled something out of his pocket—a folded parchment, slightly crinkled at the edges—and held it out between two fingers like he was offering you a sweet.

You blinked, hesitated, then snatched it from him, unfolding it with a frown.

Your eyes scanned the page once. Then twice.

It was his most recent Transfiguration assignment. The same one Professor McGonagall had assigned last week. The one you’d spent literal hours preparing him for—between all the teasing, the distractions, and your mounting frustration.

You stared at it in disbelief, lips parting slightly. “You…”

And there it was. In neat, slanted handwriting at the top of the parchment:

Outstanding.

Heeseung leaned against the wall again, smug as ever. “I know. Don’t look so shocked. Hurts my feelings.”

“But you—” You looked back down at the parchment, flipping it over like maybe it was a trick. Like maybe he’d bribed the house elves to forge it. “You barely paid attention. You threw a paper plane across the table, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And still managed to impress McGonagall,” he said, voice lined with pride. “Maybe I just needed the right kind of motivation.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Me threatening to quit tutoring?”

He grinned. “You sitting next to Quidditch boy with the doe eyes.”

You flushed instantly. “It’s not like that.”

“Didn’t say it was,” Heeseung said lightly, pushing off the wall and stepping closer again, chin tilted just slightly as he watched you—like he was trying to read something from your face. “But maybe I didn’t like it.”

You folded the parchment and shoved it back into his chest, scowling at the way your heart thudded. "Idiot."

You had found the perfect form of motivation for Heeseung to actually study and learn.

And that motivation?

Taesan.

It was ridiculous how fast Heeseung would straighten up, stop doodling, and actually focus the second Taesan entered the picture. Just the sight of the other boy sitting beside you, exchanging notes or laughing at something you'd said, was enough to turn Heeseung into the most attentive student Hogwarts had ever seen. Wand out, quill ready, eyes glued to the parchment like he had something to prove. And in a way… he did.

Only downside?

You felt horribly guilty for using Taesan. Not that he minded. In fact, he was thrilled to play along.

"Anything to get under Heeseung’s skin," he'd said with a wink one afternoon, leaning a little closer to you on purpose. "And if I get to spend time with you too? Bonus."

It made you laugh—awkward and a bit flustered—but it worked. Every. Single. Time. Heeseung would visibly bristle, jaw tight, mouth twitching with words he didn’t say. He never said it, but you knew.

Because the second Taesan was gone, the aftermath began with Heeseung.

Cause he suddenly acted like he'd laid a claim on you.

That was the only way you could describe it.

Suddenly he was everywhere—next to you in the corridors, walking you to class even when he had somewhere else to be, sitting close enough during tutoring that your knees brushed under the table. He started calling you his tutor in a tone that left no room for argument. When people passed by and looked too long, he would casually drape an arm over your chair, or mutter something low like, “Should we give them a show?”

You told him to shut up.

You told him to stop.

But you didn’t move away.

And that was the real problem, wasn’t it?

Because you stopped wanting to. And you hated it.

You hated how easily Heeseung got under your skin, how his smirks lingered in your mind long after he was gone, how the scent of his cologne clung to your robe whenever he leaned in too close. You hated that you were supposed to be the composed one—the logical, focused, untouchable one.

But then he’d tilt his head and say something like, “You missed me, didn’t you?” and you’d feel like your entire body betrayed you with one stupid skip of your heart.

It became a pattern. He’d be an asshole in front of Taesan, smug and dramatic, acting like the library was his personal performance stage and you were his muse.

You told yourself it was the game. Just tension from tutoring and competition. Just hormones.

But it didn’t explain the way he looked at you now, the way he acted around you now.

You caught him once, watching you too intently as you explained something. Your words faltered mid-sentence, and his mouth quirked up into something soft, almost fond.

And when he wasn’t throwing smug glances or making comments under his breath that had no right making your face warm, he was staring at you like he wanted to memorize you.

Like he already had.

“What?” you mumbled.

“Nothing,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Just… I don’t think you even realize it, do you?”

“Realize what?”

He just leaned back in his chair and grinned.

“How fun it is to be yours.”

And you swore your heart forgot how to beat.

You actually almost slipped once.

It had been one of those quieter study sessions—no Taesan, no distractions, just the two of you tucked into the corner of the library where no one really went after hours. You had your notes spread out, a well-worn Transfiguration text open between you, and Heeseung was shockingly cooperative that evening.

At least at first.

He was sitting beside you—closer than usual. So close your legs were almost touching beneath the table, and your arms kept brushing whenever you reached for your quill or turned a page. You told yourself it didn’t matter. You told yourself you were used to it by now. You were fine.

But then he leaned in.

You didn’t even notice at first—too busy flipping to the next chapter and scribbling notes—but then his shoulder pressed against yours, and the heat of him was right there, and before you could even blink, he was so close.

You turned to say something—maybe a snarky comment, maybe a reminder to focus—and froze.

He was already looking at you.

Both of your faces were so close, your noses practically brushed. The words caught in your throat, completely useless now as you felt his breath fan across your cheek.

Heeseung inhaled slowly, like even the scent of you was enough to short-circuit his brain.

And then he looked down at your lips.

Your gaze dropped too—without thinking, without meaning to—and Merlin, it was like everything in the room stopped. The flickering candlelight, the soft scratch of parchment from nearby students, even the voice of Madam Pince scolding students.

Nothing moved.

You didn’t move.

And Heeseung?

If he leaned in even half an inch more, you weren’t sure what you’d do.

But your body knew.

And that was what terrified you most.

But as you and Heeseung locked eyes again, that fear that felt so suffocating a moment ago seemed to melt away.

It felt like a slow-moving storm, the kind that doesn’t give you a chance to prepare. You could feel his breath brushing against your skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest as his gaze dropped to your lips once again.

You both leaned in so slow at first that it felt like the longest moment of your life.

Heeseung’s hand moved, fingers brushing against the table, as if he was hesitating, waiting for something, or maybe waiting for you. You didn’t know. All you could focus on was the fact that every inch of space between you was slowly disappearing.

And then, in that instant, your lips almost touched—just the smallest gap left between you, the air thick with tension, and you could’ve sworn you heard your own heart pounding in your ears.

"Stop," you whispered.

The word didn’t even sound like it came from your mouth. It was too quiet, too shaky, too unconvincing.

Heeseung’s lips quirked into that familiar, maddening grin, though it was different now—softer.

“You don’t really want me to stop,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, yet the tone sent a shiver down your spine.

You agreed with him breathlessly, the words slipping out before you even realized you’d said them. “No... I don’t.”

The moment you agreed, his hand, which had been lingering beside you, slowly slid to the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin with just the right amount of pressure. You inhaled sharply as he gently cupped the nape of your neck, his thumb tracing circles that made your skin prickle.

Before you could think, he closed the distance between you, his lips pressed softly against yours. It was almost like he was claiming you, but there was something tender in the way he moved, as if he was savoring the moment. Like he was savoring you.

You couldn’t pull away. Not that you wanted to. Everything in you was telling you to let go, to lean into it, and so you did. You let yourself fall into the kiss, hands trembling as they reached for him—one resting against his chest, the other finding its way into his hair.

Heeseung’s other hand slipped around to your back, pulling you closer until there was no space between you at all. Your breath mingled with his, shallow and fast, and the kiss deepened, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. You were losing yourself to him. The way he tasted, the way he moved, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours.

You clung to him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, as if you needed him to ground you. Every little touch, every movement, felt like it was pulling you deeper into the moment, and you couldn’t fight it, not anymore. Heeseung’s groan escaped quietly, his body slightly tensing as he responded to your touch.

He paused for a split second, pulling away just enough to catch his breath. His gaze was dark, almost like he was fighting with himself, but he didn’t let go of you.

His lips ghosted over your cheek, just a gentle caress, and then he whispered, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be…”

You could only nod slightly, too lost in the sensation of him against you to form coherent words. It felt so... right in a way you hadn’t expected.

Heeseung’s hand rested on your waist, a steady pressure that kept you close, yet he wasn’t pushing any further. And then, as if he had suddenly realized how dangerously close you both were to crossing a line, he leaned back slightly.

“Maybe we should... slow down,” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, though his voice was still thick, like he wasn’t completely ready to let go of this moment either.

You shook your head, the words barely leaving your lips before you found yourself closing the distance again, your mouth finding his in a fierce kiss.

“No,” you mumbled against his lips, your voice breathless, almost desperate.

Heeseung let out a low, frustrated curse, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed you back with a force that made your knees weak. His hands roamed, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of the closeness either. His lips were insistent, hungry, and you responded in kind, losing yourself again.

Everything about this felt like a blur. The way his body pressed against yours, the heat between you two, the quiet noises of your breath and his mixed together. There was nothing but him and the way he made you feel, like you could finally let go of all the tension that had built up between you.

But just as quickly as it had started, Heeseung slowed the kiss, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours as both of you tried to regain some composure.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered, still catching his breath, a small, amused smirk tugging at his lips.

You agreed with him dazed, your voice barely a whisper. “I know.”

It wasn’t a lie. You were trouble. You wanted trouble. And right now, you didn’t want to fight it. You were a woman of control, always calculating, always careful. But at that moment, you wanted to lose that control. You wanted him to take it. Heeseung had a way of making everything else feel insignificant—like all the careful walls you’d built around yourself were nothing compared to the pull of his presence.

And when you felt his hand slip to your waist, pulling you even closer, his lips pressing to your neck, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to fight it anymore. You needed him to take control.

His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, and you couldn’t help but shiver, your breath hitching as he kissed the sensitive skin there. You could feel his smirk against your skin as if he knew exactly what he was doing, how much power he held in this moment.

"Isn’t it fun letting everything go," he murmured against your skin, his words making your pulse quicken. You barely registered that he’d stopped speaking before he pulled you into another kiss.

The warmth of his body pressed into yours as his hands slid down to your hips, fingers brushing lightly before tightening as he pulled you even closer. He was taking control, and every part of you responded to it, eager, willing.

Heeseung’s kisses became more deliberate, teasing, as he moved his lips lower, his hands guiding you effortlessly, making you forget everything but the sensation of him. You felt like you were falling, and you didn’t want to stop.

“You’re going to make me lose my mind,” you murmured, barely keeping it together.

Heeseung only chuckled, a dark, teasing sound that sent another wave of heat through you. "That’s the plan," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before he kissed the sensitive spot just below it.

It was too much and not enough all at once. You could feel your heart racing, your breath uneven. Heeseung wasn’t just teasing anymore—he was making sure you didn’t have a single ounce of control left to cling to.

And, strangely enough, you didn’t want it back.

Heeseung's lips never left your skin, trailing slow, teasing kisses down your neck as his hands explored the curve of your waist, pulling you tighter against him. He wasn’t in a rush. No, he was savoring every second, every shiver that passed through you. His breath against your skin made you tremble, but his words did something entirely different.

"You’re such a good tutor," he whispered, voice low and laced with amusement. "Kept up with me so well. But I have to say, it’s funny how easy it is to make you crumble."

You felt the heat in your cheeks spread, your pulse quickening, but you couldn’t decide if it was from embarrassment or desire. His words were like a cruel taunt, yet they stirred something in you, something that was both humbling and arousing. You wanted to hide from the way he made you feel, but at the same time, the compliments mixed with his teasing sent a rush through your body that was impossible to ignore.

He kissed along the edge of your jaw, his lips brushing against your skin with deliberate slowness. "You're good at pretending to be in control," he continued, his voice turning darker. "But I can see it, can feel it... how easily you let go when I touch you, like a little defenseless kitty."

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to maintain your composure, but it was getting harder to hide the way your body betrayed you. The way your breath hitched when he whispered those words, how his touch made your thoughts scatter. You wanted to tell him to stop, to pull away but the way he made you feel… it was like nothing else mattered anymore.

And then, as if he could sense your internal struggle, he pulled back just slightly, eyes dark, smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You know, it’s cute when you try to pretend you’re not enjoying this,” he teased, voice low, almost a growl. “But I think we both know better.”

You couldn't meet his gaze. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, feeling too exposed, too vulnerable, too lost in the way he had turned your emotions inside out.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the heat of the moment swallow you whole. Heeseung had this uncanny ability to unravel you, to make you forget everything you had ever tried to control. He was playing with you, juggling your emotions with a skill that left you confused, unsure of where you stood, but completely under his spell.

Heeseung’s smirk only widened as he noticed the way you struggled to hold your ground. His hand slid lower, just enough to make you tense, his thumb brushing the curve of your waist in a way that made your breath catch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been pretending all this time, haven’t you?”

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he whispered, “You think you can handle me, don’t you? But you’re already cracking. You’re already letting me win.”

Heeseung’s hands were everywhere now—one still at your waist, the other now threading through your hair, tilting your head back as if he owned you. His lips brushed against your neck, and his teeth nipped at your skin, causing you to gasp.

"Don’t act like you don’t like it," he whispered, low and threatening. "You think I can’t see it? How easily I can make you forget all that control you love so much." His grip on you tightened, holding you in place as he added, “You thought you had everything under control, huh? But you’re nothing but a perfect little puppet on a string."

You felt the sting of his words, sharp and cutting but there was something about it that made you flush even more. Something about the way he made you feel both degraded and desired at the same time.

"You’re so good at pretending, but you can’t hide from me," he murmured, his voice dripping with fake sugary honey. "I see the way you need me. How badly you want me to break you down, make you lose control. I’ll take my time with you, though. Make you beg for it.”

His words were cruel, but the way he said them, the way his fingers gripped your jaw to force you to look at him, made it clear that he wasn’t going to stop until he had you exactly where he wanted.

And despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, part of you couldn’t help but lean into him, your body betraying you even as you tried to hold on to your last shred of control.

You hated chaos. You hated messy. You hated unpredictability and recklessness.

You thrived on control, on order, on being able to predict every outcome, to mold everything to fit into neat little categories.

But when it was all smashed together in a person, when it was him, something you couldn’t tame, something you couldn’t figure out no matter how much you tried?

Oh, how you loved it so much.

It was maddening, infuriating, and yet... addicting.

Heeseung was everything you hated. He was unpredictable. He was reckless, and he didn’t care who saw it. He didn’t care what anyone thought, least of all you. And it drove you insane. It made your blood boil, but it also made your heart race in ways you couldn’t explain.

With every teasing word, every touch, every taunt, he peeled away at your control until there was nothing left but the raw need that had taken root deep within you. He made you ache in a way that was both pleasurable and frustrating, like being trapped in a whirlwind that you couldn’t escape but didn’t want to.

You couldn’t help but crave him—crave the chaos he brought, even though it scared the hell out of you. The way he made you feel alive in a way that no amount of control or precision ever could.

You didn’t want to be in control anymore.

You wanted him.

Because as much as you hated chaos, it felt so damn good when it was with him.

You wanted the chaos he offered, the unpredictability of him. Because, somehow, with him you were starting to find pieces of yourself you didn’t even know you’d lost somewhere along the way. And for once, you didn’t care.

a/n: oh yeah baby. i am ready for this man.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Perm taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny @dollyyun

@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos

@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash

@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111

@enhaprettystars @zorange13 @jiminie-08 @chocowonnie

@enhamonsterghoul @mrsjjongstby @bussolares @kiripimaspillow

@sumsumtingz @norucking @tunafishyfishylike @txnwvc

@jakeluvrrs @firstclassjaylee @xnatqq @arclviie @aussie-boys-wife

@vvenusoncasual @bamguetismee @cristy-101 @starf4lls

481 notes · View notes

angelic--kitty · 9 months ago

Note

dilf arlecchino stretching out a virgin reader on her fat cock

dom!dilf arlecchino x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, transfem!arlecchino, virgin!reader, age-gap (arle is in her late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), size kink, fingering, penetration, handjob

a/n: tagging my favorite silly @myfriendscallmebun who i hope enjoys this ♡ this is so long

she first hired you merely as a form of entertainment for her children. someone eager to please who wouldn't require such a large salary. someone who, at least, would never ask someone like her for more than she offered.

it's a surprising decision, on her end, to select a college girl to watch over her precious children. though, you presented yourself so nicely at the interview, and your references and resume did you well.

besides, it might be nice for the children to be around someone closer to their age for a change. they often spent time with arlecchino herself and occasionally her coworkers.

and, you had grown on her.

it's been nearly two months since you started working for her, and a few weeks since you began passing flirtatious remarks to one another.

the thing that finally melted her heart was an evening she worked late. she was already irritated her children would be asleep when she got home, but she felt guilty making you stay hours late at her home.

much to her surprise (and inner delight), when she came home, she found the children tucked into their beds, and you standing so sweetly at the door.

you had slipped her jacket off, hanging it up and tugging her into the kitchen. sure enough, you had saved her a plate of the spaghetti you made, along with a glass of her favorite red wine.

that was the day when she finally asked you to accompany her on a proper date.

and, now, here you are, standing in front of your mirror, fussing with your dress and jewelry. the dress she had bought for you special for tonight. it was black, falling just below your knees- rather classy for someone so young.

20 minutes. in 20 minutes she was picking you up.

nervous as you were, you couldn't believe you were going on a date with her. especially to somewhere so expensive and exclusive.

it was some sort of upscale bar with expensive alcohol and food. somewhere arlecchino claimed to frequent often when she needed alone time.

you almost broke out into laughter when she admitted she hired childe, her younger coworker, for the evening to watch her children.

"oh, i'm not concerned for my childrens' safety. if anything, he should be afraid for his own." was her reply, a small smirk on her lips that you nearly missed.

she lead you into the restaurant with confidence, turning heads, eliciting whispers as she kept her hand on the small of your back while the waiter brought you to your table.

"what do you think so far?" she asked, her wine glass already being filled, no need to speak her order.

"it's...definitely different than what i'm used to. but it's really nice. i like having an excuse to dress up a little." you smile at her and she raises her glass to her lips.

"i want to spoil you for the evening. for not only treating my children so well, but because you are an exceptional woman. i only hope my gestures come off as genuine as i intend." she sips her wine, setting it down to begin rambling to you about the menu.

but you're not quite listening, distracted by her hands, her lips, her eyes. how could someone be so perfect?

she's quite a bit older than you, probably much more experienced. does she truly feel the same way you do? and-

"sweetheart?" she breaks you from your thoughts and you stiffen up.

"i'm sorry- i'm listening!" you squeak, but she sees right through you.

although, she finds it rather cute. she's noticed before, obviously. your wandering eyes, the way you bite your lip when she picks up something heavy like it's nothing, or how your thighs press together when she takes a stern tone.

she simply wants to know the depths of your affection for her. after all, she has similar thoughts of you.

"which dish would you like then?" she asks pointedly, allowing you to hold the menu with shaky hands.

"ah...um..." the words blur together, not registering. "what do you recommend?"

she tilts her head, taking the menu back. "allow me to order for you then."

you like when she takes control. she knows what she wants, and she will have it. you wish it a quality you embodied more, though she fascinates you. it is almost natural to her.

dinner goes rather smoothly, and you get to taste test a few different wines, but not nearly enough to get you even remotely tipsy.

"i much prefer coherent company." her lips quirk up as she says this, and you laugh behind your hand.

she's funny, you admit. her dry humor is one of your favorite things about her.

it's a shame when dinner comes to an end, but you two mutually draw it out as long as you can. you share a dessert, and plenty of good conversation about yourselves. you learn things about her you never would've thought, and likewise for her.

the ride back to your place is just as pleasant, though you feel nervous inside. you want to make a move. you want to ask her to come inside. to stay...

but you couldn't possibly. that would be absurd... right?

regardless, she walks you in, ensuring you get into your place safely. she's a gentleman in how she holds your bags and all the doors at every stop.

the little bit of wine in your system has you feeling bold, stopping her in her tracks before she could put her shoes back on. "wait! why... don't you stay for a little? i could make us some tea. herbal! so you won't...uh... be awake all night."

she merely tilts her head, nodding either way. she listens to your rambling about the tea and the coffee mugs you have, her eyes wandering your walls when she sees familiar art.

"did the children draw these?" she interrupts, taking one off the wall.

it's a rather rudimentary stick-figure drawing, but she can tell who each one represents. this is one of lynette's drawings. she's drawn herself with pretty blue bows, along with her brothers, and, of course, their father.

and you.

there you are, standing on the other side as if you were the mother to complete their family portrait.

"oh- those? yeah, the kids drew them for me... i thought they were really cute, so i kept them." you smile and her heart flutters.

she skims her fingers over the papers, pausing when she sees one from freminet. he's drawn a flower field of green scribbles and rainbow dots, the children playing on a swingset while you and arlecchino watch.

with the words 'mom' and 'dad' written above your heads.

she can hear you nervously talking to fill the silence, and she turns to you. "they really do seem to enjoy having you around." she murmurs. "as do i."

you look up at her, feeling her lean in, gently holding your waist. "am i being too forward?" she asks, breath fanning over the side of your face as you shiver.

"not at all-" you breathe out, trembling as she lifts your chin gently. she can see your anticipation.

"you're not phased by our gap in experience?" she asks. "it's inevitable. i cannot change it, but i do not want you to feel forced."

"i actually like it. i really like it." you blurt, catching her off guard.

"oh?" her voice is low, sultry as she cups your jaw. "is this alright with you, then?"

"please-" and that's all she needs to connect your lips, kissing you so softly at first. her tongue gently prods for entrance, and she can instantly tell you truly are inexperienced.

she pulls away, gently swiping a thumb over your cheek. "is this your first time?"

"you could tell?" you groan, and she nearly melts.

"it is not shameful to wait. i only want you to be sure this is what you want." she explains, stroking your cheek as your eyes flutter shut.

"i want you. please? i want you to take it." you leave it open for interpretation, but she knows exactly what you're referring to.

"if you're certain, then i'd be honored, sweetheart." she says so gently you'd think she was someone else.

you bring her to your room, cringing at the mess. "i know it isn't what you're used to but mmph-!" you whimper when she kisses you, pulling you onto her lap on the bed.

she trails kisses down your neck, watching you tilt your head back instinctively. you pant, overwhelmed so quickly she almost feels guilty.

keyword: almost.

instead, it makes her twitch within the confines of her expensive suit slacks.

her hand tangles into the back of your hair, tugging you firmly so she can nip at your jaw. she takes it slow, easing you into things until you're practically begging her to go further.

your dress slides off slowly, a treat waiting when she sees the pretty matching lingerie set beneath. it's white and lacy, delicate, something she could easily tear right off, and it drives her mad.

"aren't you full of surprises? naughty ones at that." she tuts, squeezing your jaw as you gasp.

she unclips the bra, her gently squeezing your breasts as you moan for her.

she teases your nipples until they go pert, wrapping her tongue around them as you arch up into her.

you're being vulnerable with her; she knows this much. she holds you steady, ensuring you feel safe on her lap before pulling away with a soft 'pop.'

she unbuttons her shirt, tugging it off to match you. she watches your eyes go wide, eager yet embarrassed as she tosses her bra aside with the shirt.

"you're so...pretty." you gasp quietly, eyes wide.

"you can touch me, sweetheart." she pulls your hand to her chest, allowing you to explore. your fingers clumsily rub her nipples and she grunts, guiding them into place.

"does it feel good?" you ask her so hesitantly, and she kisses the top of your head.

"you're doing well." she watches your gaze slide down, eyeing the growing bulge in her pants. she dryly grunts, lifting your chin up. "something catch your eye?"

"i... i'm sorry- i didn't mean to stare-" your words are mumbled, your face hot as your mouth goes dry.

"you're curious. that's alright." she brushes a thumb over your lips, coaxing you to open up.

she slides her thumb over your tongue, gently easing it a little further until you gag, keeping you just like that. your eyes are so wide and pretty, glazed over with untapped lust.

she hums thoughtfully before withdrawing, using the thumb to brush over the front of your panties. you gasp, thighs snapping shut as she pushes them back apart.

she lightly smacks your thigh. "keep them open." she rubs gentle circles on your clothed clit, your body clearly unsure how to react. she can see it doesn't take much to bring you to the edge, and she lightens her touch, able to control her own desires with ease.

her hand comes back to your lips, sliding your wetness over your tongue while her free hand slides your panties to the side.

something you've missed before, but she's filed her nails down on this hand. just for you, though only she knew that.

she gently slides her fingers through your folds, hearing you whimper and squirm on her lap. she tucks your head under her chin while she eases a finger into you, feeling you squeeze so tight around just one digit.

she gives you time to adjust, feeling you clutch her wrist. you're such an angel, aren't you? holding so tightly to her, so cute, all while you fidget right above her confined cock, inevitably making her grow harder.

her second finger slides in slowly, with an intent to stretch you out enough to take her cock more comfortably. she curls them inside of you, hearing you whine loudly into her neck.

"ah- that feels-!" you squeal when she brushes against your g-spot. her finger pads rub into it, and you tremble, thighs clamping down on her hand.

"relax." she reminds you, pumping her fingers in and out, slick sounds filling the air. she stretches you out every so often, spreading her fingers slightly and hearing you whimper so sweetly.

your hand clumsily rests on her bulge and her fingers still as she inhales sharply.

"i... want to- try and make you feel good too..." you whisper, looking up at her.

and who is she to deny such a sweet girl?

she pops open the button, unzipping her pants and freeing her cock, allowing you to see her.

your eyes go comically wide, shocked by the size. "that's... i-"

she can feel your walls fluttering around her fingers and she nearly moans. "it's alright. don't be nervous." she practically reads your mind, soothing your concerns as her free hand unwraps itself from your body, collecting some of the messy slick from your thighs, sliding it over herself.

"you haven't done this before, i presume?" she's met with a shake of your head. she proceeds to guide your hand in wrapping around her cock. she hisses through her teeth. "archons-" she groans lowly, her fingers resuming their gentle in and out motions while she guides you to stroke her cock.

"tighter." she tells you, feeling your hand grip more firmly, her pre-cum oozing over your hand, spreading across her cock. "good girl-" she praises and you clench around her fingers once more.

she says nothing, but she knows exactly how her words affect you. such a sweet little thing you are, curled up on her lap, fingers stuffed inside of you while your hand wraps around her cock.

her hand covers yours still, dwarfing your hand and guiding you into her preferred rhythm. "that's it. you're doing well-" she tips her head back, hips grinding into your hand as she lets go.

she allows you to move your hand on your own, finger-fucking you faster. she knows you're losing focus, too overwhelmed by your own need to cum, though she doesn't mind too much. you're just so sweet with how your moans pick up in volume, your eyes closing as your hips chase her hand.

"go on." she tells you, her voice stern as you release around her digits like such a good girl for her.

she slides her fingers out, admiring the webbed slick coating them, cleaning them in her own mouth as you shyly hide in her chest.

she pulls you away, laying you on the bed. "wait! you didn't get to..."

she shakes her head, pushing her hair back. "hush." she simply says, spreading your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. it exposes you perfectly, allowing you to feel shy, yet unable to cover yourself as she studies your twitchy cunt.

arlecchino uses one hand to guide herself through your slick, sensitive folds, gathering the remnants of your orgasm. she is gentle when she slides into you for the first time, a thumb on your stiff, swollen clit to ease the stretch.

she watches your eyebrows furrow, nose crinkling as she stretches you out. "so big-" you whine, chest arching up against her own.

your moans are melodies to her, feeling you flutter around her was like heaven. she lifts you up to sit on her lap while she leans back, guiding you to slowly take more of her in.

"too much!" you whine, looking down.

"you haven't taken all of me yet." she hushes you, easing you down to swallow her all in your pussy until you're mewling incoherently.

"full-" your head falls back and she grabs your hips, her nails leaving sharp little indents as she guides you to shallowly fuck yourself on her cock.

"such a pretty little thing." she coos, slowly growing more harsh, grinding up into you.

and, oh, you sing for her the rougher she gets. you urge her to grow bolder, now using your body as a toy while you desperately try to match her tempo.

you're inexperienced, but oh, so eager to please, aren't you? what a good girl.

she grabs your ass, fucking you on her cock while you keep a vice grip, your tits bouncing with each thrust. "oh- archons!" you squeal.

arlecchino picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, settling you beneath her instead, fucking into you with boundless energy.

she knows the right spots to fuck, where and how to grind herself into a woman, she knows exactly when to speed up and slow down. yet it seems you don't even know your own body fully.

and the thought of helping you explore with her is enough to have her twitching inside of you.

your incessant mewling and moaning of her name is driving her mad for you. her hand wraps around your throat, earning her breathless gasps as she urges you to cum for her.

"be a good little pet and cum." she orders, slick sounds penetrating the air, the smell of sex coating you both. "cum for me."

she rubs your clit harshly, watching you shake as you do cum, tightening up around her cock, sending her eyes rolling back into her head.

the moment you loosen up, she pulls out, cumming onto your tummy, creating a filthy mess as she moans deeply for you.

"fuck..." she sighs, squeezing her cock to ease the rest of her cum onto your skin.

you pant, looking up at her. your eyes are blown wide, but you look exhausted as you lay limply beneath her.

and, well, you'll soon learn her cock may need time to recover, but her mouth and fingers certainly don't...

#꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱─ 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 #ฅᨐฅ─ 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 #ʚ♡ɞ─ 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #arlecchino x you #arlecchino smut #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #arlecchino x y/n #genshin wlw #wlw #🐇─ 𝐛𝐮𝐧

2K notes · View notes

emilicious0 · 1 year ago

Note

could you do like an alastor x doe! reader? he’s a deer and i feel like him with another deer would be nice :D

if not that’s fine too! have a great day! <3

alastor x doe! reader

should I make part.2 on what is their relationship like??

□ you were in hell for a much shorter time than alastor. despite this, you've heard the stories about "the radio demon" and his famous radio show, but never realized he was a deer.

□ you, on the other hand, were a doe. you had small ears positioned on top of your head and a small doe tail. your skin had some dots (the most visible ones were under your eyes).

□ you stumbled across the hotel in need of a safe space from some sharks that you encountered.

□ charlie excitedly brought you in, and then you finally met him.

□ looking at you with his usual smile, alastor couldn't help but notice how you resembled a doe, especially since he had never met someone who resembled the same animal as him.

□ so, he began to be curious about you.

□ it doesn't matter what you are doing; he is constantly somewhere near, which is logical since you two live in the same building, but it seems like he is always watching you.

□ and he likes scaring you: appearing all of a sudden at your back or scaring you with all sorts of similar things.

□ teasing you is also his favorite thing to do, for example, taking things from you and then making you reach for it while it's in his hand.

□ but after some time, alastor started to be more and more protective of you (even he himself didn't quite notice it at first).

□ the radio demon would help reach things from top shelves, protect you from angel dust's aggressive flirting, and, in general, by anything.

□ in the name of your safety, he started to stalk you a little, but not too much.

□ after some more time, he started to act like a true gentleman to you: if given a chance, he would open doors for you, hold your hand, if you need support (he only allowed you to touch him) and etc.

□ that's when he finally realized his feelings for you.

□ and his courting was pretty... passive-aggressive (in a good way, I think), but still very gentleman-like.

□ flowers for every possible occasion, preparing your meals, dedicating his radio shows to you, etc.

□ well, it worked because you two soon started a pretty cute relationship (in charlie's view at least; vaggie is afraid alastor is dangerous for you).

(gif not mine)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader

3K notes · View notes

whumpfish · 1 year ago

Text

Apart from having been read to/taught to read early, I might have actually gotten into writing because of The Narrator, a minor psychotic symptom that I had from since I can remember to when I started seroquel that narrated what I was doing as I did it, Stranger Than Fiction style. (You know the scene where Will Farrell is brushing his teeth and a disembodied voice is describing him brushing his teeth? That.)

Bipolar I doesn't hit critical mass until adolescence, but I've had minor psychotic symptoms my whole life. The childhood ones like The Narrator are step in between silent, "normal" thoughts and auditory hallucinations. Just like you can remember the sound of someone's voice, accent and intonation and pitch and all, or a melody played on a particular instrument, minor psychotic symptoms live in this function of your brain, where it registers the aspects of sound and recognizes that as sound without hearing it physically. It's just a voice you've never heard anywhere else in your life - and it's always running, and you can't control what it says or turn it off.

Then again, being read to and reading early may have formed The Narrator subconsciously. The science doesn't really know enough about early psychotic presentation in bipolar I, because to an outside observer, even a clinical one, we're indistinguishable from an ADD child with a vivid imagination.

My elementary school library had this thing where they would "publish" books (go to kinkos and get them spiral bound) we wrote, and I remember doing that a lot. Apart from Louis Sachar type "life of a kid but with magical realism" stuff, I had a lot of high fantasy stuff I would write as a kid - Fantasia left me with a minor obsession with centaurs for several years - and when I was just getting into double digits, Pityr and the other Immortals happened, and they've been with me since. The other universes that I've kept happened from there.

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

#after a certain point #pityr wasn't so much a character in a story #as a vaguely menacing presence i carried around with me whenever i had to leave my house #because i needed to feel some sort of safety somewhere #and this is before his current morally grey serial killer phase #but i think this iteration probably has something to do with those early days #fish speaks #shut up fish nobody cares #actually psychotic #psychosis #bipolar i #actually bipolar

187K notes · View notes

chippedshake · 7 months ago

Text

Darry helping Pony out with some bullies and a six-year-old Ponyboy running up to him a week later with a comic in his hand, saying "Darry, Darry, look, he's just like you!"

And it's a Superman comic book, open to a page where he's fighting a villain and bringing some civilians to safety

"See? He's helping people like you helped me!"

Darry just laughing and ruffling his hair

"Sure, Pony, I'm Superman."

And going back to his homework

But Ponyboy won't let it go. He starts calling him Superman and gets Soda in on it. Two-Bit absolutely cackles the first time he hears it and instantly plays along. Then Johnny starts saying it too, maybe a bit as a joke, but also because he's thinking about how Darry helps him with his homework sometimes and helped scare those Socs away and gave him a hug when he found him in the lot. Steve starts once Darry grows up and actually starts looking like Superman and by the time Dally gets there, he doesn’t even question it.

Darry laughs at first. Jokes about it. Then he starts hearing people talking about Superman and thinks, for a second, that they're talking about him before he remembers that it's just his family that calls him that.

By the time Ponyboy's eight, no one remembers how it started, no one cares about how it started, it just is.

Then it's a Tuesday evening when Darry's twenty and he's getting home from ten hours of heavy-lifting and has to cook dinner and the bills are due and he feels like collapsing onto the couch and sleeping for three days, but he doesn't have the fucking time to sleep because Pony has to go to school and Soda has to not oversleep and they have to have something to eat for dinner and he needs to convince Johnny he can stay over and isn't a burden and Two-Bit can't be getting too drunk because he needs to graduate goddammit and Steve might be kicked out tonight and needs to have somewhere to sleep and Dally needs some sort of constant in his life and it's too much and Darry's just twenty, he can't do it anymore–

"Darry, Darry, look, he's just like you!"

And suddenly Ponyboy's hopeful eyes are looking up at him, seeing Superman instead of his big brother because he helped fight off some Socs.

But that isn't enough anymore. He can't just fight off some Socs and come home and do his seventh grade homework. He needs to somehow keep his family together, make sure they all have a place to sleep and food to eat. And he can't falter, can't fail for a second because he's Superman, and Superman is invincible. Doesn't feel pain. Doesn't get tired. Doesn't let anything get him down.

"Hey there, Darry. Everything good?" Steve walks into their house without knocking.

"Yeah, just a bit tired." Darry sits up from where he’d been leaning back on the couch. Can't be tired. Can't be weak. "You kicked out again?"

"Yeah. Cool if I hang out here tonight?" Darry nods, stifling a yawn as he gets up. "What's for dinner?"

"Uh..." He glances towards the kitchen, trying to remember what they have. "Not sure. I'll figure it out."

"Need anything from the grocery store?"

Darry shrugs. "I can get it myself."

"I don't mind. You look beat."

"I'm fine," Darry says instinctively.

Steve snorts. "Okay. Need anything? I'm gonna go buy some cigs anyway."

"Uh..." Darry opens the near-empty fridge and sighs. "Some spaghetti for tonight. Get some chicken, too, we'll make it tomorrow. And a couple apples so you idiots eat some fruit."

"Got it."

Darry starts digging around for his wallet.

"Don’t worry. S'on me. Still got some from when the old man kicked me out two weeks ago."

"Steve, I can't ask you to–"

"Then it's a good thing you ain't askin'."

They stare off for a few moments before Darry relents.

"Thanks, Steve."

Steve nods. "No problem, Superman." He gives a mock salute and walks out the door.

Darry stares at the empty doorway for a couple seconds before he snaps out of it and starts cleaning up in case the state decides to poke around. He knows it isn't sustainable. They can't go on like this forever, he can't take care of his brothers alone forever.

He knows he isn't really Superman.

But maybe if he lets himself get help, he doesn’t have to be.

#this started out wholesome as superman motivating darry #but rlly it'd prolly just put more pressure on him #darry curtis #darrel curtis #superman darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #the outsiders #the outsiders book #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders movie #the outsiders musical #chippedshake #fanfics

675 notes · View notes

cyber-mari · 8 months ago

Note

hellooo :D

I see you want some requests for a while and I really liked your dating hc w persona 5 girls

can you a do a same one but with goro Akechi and joker ? (fem reader)

please don't overwork yourself dear<3 Have a nice day<3

₊ ☆ ‧₊˚ → ren/joker and akechi general relationship hcs!

cw: fluff, slight angst in akechi’s part, mentions of shido (and therefore spoilers)

note: ahhhhh tysm, you’re so sweet! i’m glad you enjoyed my other dating hcs and hope you like these as well! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

- ren is a very flexible and accommodating boyfriend. it’s not that he changes his entire personality forcefully to fit your needs, it's just natural for him for some reason.

- he doesn’t mind some pda here and there

- he introduces you to his friends early on and you become part of their group pretty fast

- if you’re not a phantom thief he tries to not pull you into anything involving that sort of business just to avoid endangering you

- if you’re a phantom thief, in the metaverse he's always watching out for you.

- talking about watching out for you, he looks out for you in subtle ways, like walking on the side with the traffic, giving up an empty seat on the train for you, etc.

- he’s the type of boyfriend that wins the prize you want for you at an arcade (like after 7 tries but he still gets it nonetheless)

- sojiro is constantly giving you things on the house whenever you come to leblanc

- dates with him are practically anywhere, he just likes spending time with you.

- akechi doesn't want people knowing too much about his personal life as someone who's in the public eye. not only that, he wants to avoid getting you involved in any shido/phantom thief business.

- so your relationship is kept private for your safety. he’ll do anything to avoid putting you in harms way

- pda isn't common, however he makes lots of time for you! it’s a bit limited because of his occupation but he always makes sure to at least text you a few times throughout the day <3

- he adores quality time

- once he adjusts to literally one of the first healthy relationships in his life he's very sweet

- very very touch starved. at first he hates physical affection because it makes him feel vulnerable but after a bit of reassurance from you he eventually gets more comfortable with it.

- that being said, akechi has a very complicated past that affected him in more ways than one, so reassurance plays a big role in your relationship with him.

- he also values communication. whether you're going through something or on a rare occasion that you had an argument, talk to him and tell him what you need/want.

- dates will happen at akechi's apartment or at your house. if you guys are outdoors, it would be at a somewhere like a restaurant most of the time.

#persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #goro akechi x reader #akechi goro x reader #ren amamiya x reader #akira kurusu x reader #goro akechi #akechi goro #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #persona x reader #persona headcanons #x reader #answered #killualoverr

519 notes · View notes

changetyre · 7 months ago

Text

How long? II Lando Norris X Reader ⓈⒾ

SUMMARY: Finding your soulmate doesn't always include a happy ending.

WARNINGS: Angst Angst Angst with a sprinkle of fluff. Sickness, death.

A/N: This is a story I wrote a while ago for Wattpad and which I always loved but reading it back now there's been things I've wanted to adjust which is what I chose to do here ;)

Lando POV II

"Tell me about her," she asked me passing me back our photo.

I looked at it, my thumb grazing over her in the picture I kept in my wallet.

_____

Y/N POV II

Lando and I've been together ever since I can remember. We met when we were only toddlers and became inseparable ever since. We both knew in our hearts how much we meant to each other, we knew that we couldn't live without each other. However, another part of us, and everyone around us, told us there would come a point where we'd meet other people.

And we did meet other people, in fact when I went to college and Lando joined F1 we both decided to try to date others and it was the most miserable time in both our lives. Which only reinforced our feelings, we were irrevocably in love.

We were aware that we were a very cheesy couple, the kind of people who just didn't care when people were around us and loved to show our love for one another no matter the time and/or place. We were the kind of couple to gift each other little things and have dinner dates every week. Land never failed to bring me flowers every weekend since we started dating.

Life felt like a dream when we were around each other, we literally felt like we were in the clouds, floating in our own bubble of love. But it didn't take long before it burst.

Given the amount of time Lando and I had spent together we had discussed anything you could possibly imagine and despite some thinking this was a horrible and selfish thought, when Lando and I talked about losing one another, we always thought he would go first...simply because of his job.

What Lando didn't know though was that every night and every time Lando went on track I would pray, pray for his safety, pray for his health, pray that if one of us had to go...for it to be me...because I could simply not live a life without him...the single thought made me choke up.

'Be careful what you wish for.'

One year ago I was diagnosed with Breast cancer. For some reason the news didn't come to me as much of a shock as I thought, it was like something in my mind and body had expected this, had somehow mentally prepared me for it. On the other hand, I could tell how much this devastated Lando, so much he'd set his mind on quitting F1 to care for me which I had to practically force him not to.

We had caught it early on and I only needed a few weeks of chemotherapy. Luckily the news came at the end of Lando's season, he would be home and he wouldn't get distracted on track.

Chemo was worse than anyone had ever described to me, it felt like I'd been completely stripped away from my own body and I was miserable but I knew I had to get through it, I tried to keep a smile all the way through it, for Lando, but I knew he could see right through me and he had as many sleepless nights as I did through it all.

Finally the last week of Chemo, everything was better. Lando was certainly brighter than before although I could tell he was still worried, I could see it in his eyes. Every time I'd say I was tired, huff, breath abnormally, or complain about any sort of pain I could tell Lando's heart skipped a beat.

It annoyed me at first because he constantly hovered, but I never said anything and eventually, I understood. I knew that if I was in his shoes I'd be exactly the same and now I found myself wondering whether I'd wished for the right position to be in because even though I was in pain physically...Lando was in pain too, even more than I was...and it broke my heart to see him go through it.

Now I wanted the season to start more than ever so Lando could put his focus and worry somewhere else other than me, and even though I worried that he might have an accident because of all this distraction I knew how much he adored driving and it was what he needed.

The start of the season went well, not as good as we expected but it was good enough and the boys still had the rest of the season left.

I was with Lando in Monaco for the race, I was so excited about having him race here in Monaco since we'd recently bought our apartment here and we hadn't been able to enjoy it because of my treatments.

It seemed like things were finally getting back to normal, Lando and I were floating back up in the clouds again and we were finally finding our rhythm again...it was almost too good to be true.

I was home making dinner for Lando and me, he'd texted he was almost home and I'd decided to make some food for us. The whole day I'd noticed I was particularly exhausted and I kept running out of breath doing simple things. I had just set the table when all of a sudden it felt like my lungs had disappeared.

I dropped to the ground in pain gasping with all my power for some air. I thought I was going to die right there and then all until I heard the door open.

"Y/N!" I heard Lando's panicked scream. "LOVE!"

He pulled me up and turned me towards him, I clutched my chest. "I can't breathe." I wheezed.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!" He screamed out.

And eventually, for me, everything went black.

I woke up on an all too familiar surface. I was in a hospital bed, all sorts of tubes and needles attached to me. I looked for Lando and saw he was outside talking to the doctor, I could see him through the window.

Lando was facing my way while the doctor's back was towards me. I could tell it was a serious conversation and as much as I tried to deny it I knew what was happening. The cancer was back...and this time it wasn't going away.

I saw the anger and pain in Lando's eyes as the doctor spoke to him, he argued. I imagined he kept asking for a solution that simply didn't exist. Lando held his tears in all until he locked eyes with me. I gave him a look letting him know it was okay, I knew and that was enough for him to break down.

The doctor simply patted his shoulder before walking away. Lando walked to the room wiping his tears away as best as he could. Once he came in I could tell he didn't know what to say.

"It's back-" he spoke in barely above a whisper.

"I know baby." I opened my arms for him and he broke down in tears again. I cried with him, not because of my pain but because of his.

"How long?" I asked him after a few minutes.

Lando kept his head buried in my chest but I could feel him shaking his head.

"Baby how long?" I repeated the question.

His head finally rose up, his eyes were swollen and the tears just kept coming. "They're not sure, he says it could be 6 months or a week." Lando's voice broke at the last words before he buried his face in my chest once more except this time he wrapped his arms around me holding me tightly as if I could slip away at any second.

"I love you..." he wept "I'm so sorry." these last words shattered me.

"I'm sorry too...I love you." I whispered to him as I kissed the top of his head.

"Baby I'm scared-" he whispered into my chest.

I didn't exactly know how to comfort him, I let Lando cry it out as much as he needed to while I tried to remain strong, I found myself pondering over how I felt, I wasn't scared but I was in pain, and I was so miserable for leaving Lando like this, we definitely didn't have enough time together.

___

The next morning once Lando had come back into my room with a cup of coffee I decided it was time to talk about the next step. I knew deep down Lando still wanted to push for a cure that simply didn't exist but I also knew I didn't want to spend another second stuck in these hideous grey walls.

"Baby I want to get out here," I spoke. I was prepared for a discussion.

Lando simply looked down and gave a shaky sigh. "I know...and I'll get you out." his lip quivered and I could see tears brimming up in his eyes again.

"You're not going to ask me to stay?" I needed confirmation.

Lando got up and walked over to me, he scooted me over and sat down on the bed. "The day I met you-" he took a deep breath trying to keep himself together. "I made a promise to myself that I would do everything in my power to make you happy no matter what-" a tear slipped down his cheek. "I hope you know that if it was possible I'd take your place right now because seeing you like this..." another tear fell down his cheek. "it's been hell." I placed my hand on his cheek caressing it, I was crying too. "But I know you better than anyone and I know that you're not the kind of person to go out in a hospital room and I know you want to do as much as you can before you-" he stopped himself and his breath hitched. He couldn't say it.

"You're right." I quickly said not wanting him to finish because I could tell how hard it was for him. "I want to spend every second I have left with you, with the people I love, out of here." His lip quivered again as more tears left his eyes.

"Let's go then." Lando got back up starting to pack my things.

The news spread through the F1 world fairly quickly and I was flooded with pitiful messages all over my social media. Lando's friends from work who I'd grown close to didn't know what to say when I showed up in the paddock with them for the Monaco GP. Most of them simply gave me glances that spoke a thousand words.

Carlos, Alex, George, and Charles had all been incapable of holding their tears back as they saw me, giving me a hug that only existed for these situations.

After the Monaco GP, Lando and I found ourselves going to our favorite spots within Monaco, I was tired, so tired and I could feel death inching closer every day but I held on, I held on because...I knew he wasn't ready...I wasn't ready.

One morning I woke up to find Lando had planned a whole day for us and it all started at home. I'd walked to the living room to find Lando had prepared a very scrumptious breakfast. And he'd decorated our balcony with roses and candles.

We walked to it and there Lando got down on one knee, pulling out a small black box, which he opened to reveal a ring. My hands flew up to my mouth, I had always dreamed of this day but certainly not like this.

"My dearest y/n, I've imagined this very day over a thousand times in my head and I've come up with hundreds of speeches for this very occasion but it seems none of them would work for what we're going through now." His voice broke. "You have been the first and only woman in my life I have ever loved, you have been my best friend since day one, you've been my rock, my world, my everything and I simply do not want to spend another day not being able to call you my wife...so y/n, my love will you marry me?" I could tell he sped up the last bit to hold his tears back.

"Yes." I let him slip the ring on my finger before he rose up and we engulfed each other in a deep kiss.

"Propose...check" he pretended to hold a list and checked off the first point making me laugh.

"So what's next my fiancé," I asked him.

"Well, why don't we get going and I'll show you...my fiancé." he gave me another kiss.

Lando took me shopping for a bit before he drove us both back home. I'd noticed something else had been set up and once I walked into our room I found a wedding dress hanging in our closet. I gasped admiring the dress, it was simple but beautiful.

"Pietra helped me pick it out for you, we tried getting a more over-the-top one but apparently you can't just buy dresses like that overnight." he shrugged.

"It's beautiful." you admired the dress.

"Well you better get dressed, and I'll do the same. I'm going to get dressed somewhere else and when the time comes your driver will be here." he winked.

"Wait what?" I was confused.

"Just be ready in 2 hours...I love you." he gave me a quick peck on the lips before walking out. I got dressed and ready as best as I could with the time I had left, I did a simple hairstyle, partly because I was never good at doing my hair and partly because I barely had the strength to keep my arms up for longer than 3 seconds.

20 minutes before the 2 hours were up I heard a knock at the door. I opened it and Pietra, Alexandra, Lily, and Carmen were all standing there in matching dresses. You looked at them confused but on the brink of tears because of how beautiful they looked. "Did I die already?" I joked, and they laughed but I could tell the thought pained them.

"You look beautiful." P had to pat her eyes as she looked at me. I had naturally grown closest to her because of the brotherhood between Max and Lando.

"Thank you for doing this?" I had to hold my tears back too.

"Let's go." Alex and Lily extended their hands out for me and I took them walking out with them. We walked downstairs and Carlos was waiting in an Aston Martin DB6 Volante, that had been decorated with white flowers.

We arrive at the beach to find it prepared for a ceremony, all of Lando's friends from the paddock and his friends from Quadrant were there, as well as both our parents. I just about started crying there and then.

I got out of the car and Carlos stood there offering me his arm guiding me to one end of the carpet that had been rolled out. I saw Lando at the other end and tears quickly brimmed my eyes. As soon as he laid eyes on me it didn't take him half a second before he started crying too, Max Fewtrell quickly stepped in to hand him a handkerchief even though he was shedding a few tears too.

Without You by Harry Nilson started playing, and it was enough for me to let my tears run free. Carmen handed me a bouquet of roses and I began walking down the aisle, and for some reason, all my strength seemed to leave me right there and then.

I stumbled causing everyone to try to jump forward to grab me, My mom caught me, I could see the concern and the pain in her eyes but she also understood I needed to keep going. She wrapped her arm around my waist and helped me down the aisle.

And now it's only fair that I should let you know what you should know...I can't live, if living is without you...I can't live, I can't give anymore.

The song reached this part just as I reached him, he wrapped his arms around me, letting his forehead rest on mine.

"You look beautiful." he sniffled.

I placed my hand on his cheek before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Let's get married," I whispered to him.

The ceremony was short, Lando had wanted to arrive at the vows quickly and once we did he pulled out a sheet of paper, a tear was already rolling down his cheek.

"My best friend, my rock, my first love, my only love, my life, my world, my everything, these words don't come remotely close to describing what you are to me. I hope you know I consider myself the luckiest man on earth to have met you, to have loved you, to have cared for you, and to have married you-" he chocked up. "But although I thought it was impossible...as much as I feel the luckiest man...I feel the unluckiest too." he looked up to meet my eyes completely distraught. "It's unfair the world is taking you away from me when our love story has only just begun, all the dreams, all the plans, all the promises I have yet to fulfill to you will stay here while you will go." he gulped down, he had a knot in his throat. "I will cherish, love, and protect you for the rest of the time we have left together, I will continue bringing you flowers every weekend, I'll wake you up with kisses in the morning, I'll make you smile and laugh every day, and most importantly I will, with all my power, do my best to keep you happy." he finished.

I leaned forward giving him a long kiss on the cheek, now it was my turn and since this was all unexpected I hadn't prepared anything but already had enough to say.

"My Lando...you have made me the happiest woman on earth since the day I met you. You are the most loyal, hardworking, loving, fun man I have ever known and I consider myself the luckiest woman on earth to have fallen in love with you. And the luckiest woman for you will be the first, last, and only man I will ever love." Lando's lips quivered as I said those words, a sob escaping his lips. "I will forever be sorry that we didn't get more time together, that I couldn't give you what we had so long hoped for, a life, kids, to grow old together." I cleared my throat having to compose myself. "I wish there was more I could do to keep you happy in the time I have left my darling, I can't promise you much, but I promise that I will love you with every fiber of my body and soul until my last breath." I ended.

We were pronounced husband and wife and Lando pulled me in for a long deep kiss, mixed with both our tears.

It was the most perfect day of my life, surrounded by so much love from our families and friends, surrounded by so much happiness. Once the moon was out and the tide started rising things started getting packed up but Lando and I decided to take a walk along the beach.

We walked in silence, simply appreciating and cherishing each other's company. Once we were nearing the end of the beach I had to speak about what was on my mind.

"Lando." I started.

"No." he immediately replied.

"Baby-" I was going to keep going.

"I know what you're going to say and you can't ask me that-" he spoke softly but I could hear the anger and hurt in his voice.

"Lando listen to me please-" I stopped making Lando turn to me. He looked down and he was crying silent tears. "After I'm gone I need you to promise me you will keep going no matter how hard or painful it is...I want you to give your career 1000% percent like you always have...and someday whenever you're ready I want you to find someone who will make you happy, who will take care of you, who you will fall in love with and start a family with-" I spoke clearly, this was a thought I'd head since the first time I'd found out I was sick.

"No, I can't." He replied sniffling.

"Yes you can and you will," I assured him.

"How will I ever love someone as I love you..." he locked eyes with me.

"I'm not asking you to love someone as you love me. But you will learn to love again, I just want you to promise you will not shut yourself out, you need to keep going...for me." I walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, with one hand I wiped the tears from under his eyes.

He looked at me unsure and simply nodded, I knew he didn't mean it right now but it was as much reassurance as I would get from him for now.

"I'll never find anyone like you." He spoke once we'd started walking back.

"Maybe not, but you will find someone, there's plenty of women out there Lando, amazing, beautiful, incredibly talented women and I'm sure there's someone else for you." the mood had livened up a little bit.

____

LANDO POV II

The next morning I woke up...she didn't. She'd passed in her sleep, in my arms. A smile was still on her lips. I knew she was gone but I still tried to wake her, I still needed her to wake up.

I was inconsolable for months after her death, and my friends and my family had to help me back to my feet. Literally, because it was as though all my strength, all my will to live had died with her that day.

"She made me promise her that I would find someone else, that I'd fall in love again." I stifled a laugh remembering our walk at the beach.

"She sounds like an amazing woman." She commented. She had a very genuine smile.

"She was...I never met anyone like her." I sighed, that ache in my heart was still very present but bearable now.

_____________

Bonus A/N:

If it serves as any consolation I cried my eyes out writing this story. .

#f1 angst #angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1fic #f1

318 notes · View notes

saphronethaleph · 10 months ago

Text

Subtle as a brick

Rey stepped back a little, reverently, as Jedi Master Luke took the lightsaber.

His lightsaber. It had been his father’s, then his, and now it was his again. And-

-he threw it away.

Rey just sort of stared for a moment.

Master Luke may have said something. He may not. Rey simply didn’t process a thing for at least ten seconds.

“...what was that for?” she demanded.

“Did you think I’d come out here into hiding because I didn’t have a lightsaber?” Luke asked, looking at her like she was a bit odd.

“But – I brought your lightsaber back,” Rey objected, not really sure how to handle this complete inversion of her expectations.

Luke shrugged. “It’s not mine, anyway,” he said. “It’s my father’s. I have a strong attachment to my lightsaber, which I built by myself, while brooding alone on a desert planet.”

“Like Jakku?” Rey asked.

“...I guess, yeah, like Jakku,” Luke allowed. “Weird one to bring up, though. Why Jakku?”

“I grew up there,” Rey explained. “With no idea who my parents were… all I really had were stories and the knowledge that I wanted to leave Jakku as soon as possible.”

Luke didn’t reply, favouring her with a strange look.

“I suppose I did learn some technical skills, at least,” she went on. “Then I had to help a droid get to safety with plans the First Order wanted, plans vital to the survival of the Resistance.”

Luke looked like he was going to say something, but refrained.

“You remember the Millennium Falcon?” Rey asked. “My friend and I had to flee the planet in it, just ahead of First Order fighters and starships… then one thing led to another and I had to help in destroying the most vulnerable point on a First Order superweapon. And I’m trying to deal with my connection to the Force.”

“I know the feeling,” Luke muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

Rey frowned slightly. “And… I don’t know what it is, but I have this weird feeling that I might be related to a really evil Sith somehow-”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Luke shouted.

“...sorry?” Rey apologized, nervously.

“Not you,” Luke assured her. “I was speaking to the Force. I get it, you don’t need to be this blatant.”

He reached out his hand, catching the blue saber as it flew back up the slope, then tossed it underhand through the air to Rey.

She caught it, automatically, and Luke examined her with a critical eye.

“All right,” he said. “So, let’s see… have you got any friends in imminent trouble? Recent escape from a Resistance base?”

“Not yet, when I left, but the evacuation was going to have to be soon,” Rey answered. “I assume they’ve already done it… I hope they’ve got away safely.”

“Yeah, probably hasn’t happened,” Luke said. “They’re in trouble somehow. Could be they escaped to somewhere the First Order is already waiting, could be that they’re being chased directly… could be they’re in trouble to lure you into a trap.”

He shot her a grin, and it transformed his whole face, all his body language.

“The Force is not being subtle,” he said. “So I’m not going to be subtle back. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Rey,” Rey introduced herself.

“Well, Rey,” Luke said, lacing his hands together. “I’m going to make you into a Jedi. And then we are going to redeem the kark out of whoever your Sith ancestor is.”

Three very eventful weeks later, Sheev Palpatine existed in timeless harmony with the Force.

This was an enormous surprise to him.

“How, exactly, did that happen?” he asked the air, or the world, or the Force itself. “How in the kriff did Skywalker convince me to redeem myself by sacrificing myself to stop myself?”

“Not that I’d have an idea,” Anakin Skywalker said, fading into perception behind him. “But I’d guess it’s something he got from Padme’s side.”

“Oh, shut up,” Palpatine muttered.

He couldn’t even be properly angry any more, though it seemed that redemption did not prevent testiness.

Though meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi would probably have made that clear anyway.

#star wars #rey #luke skywalker #palpatine

214 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Text

cold snap II l.williamson x reader

I have no idea where this came from or what it really is besides a whole loft of softness cold snap II l.williamson x reader

the early winter cold snap came as no surprise to anyone who'd spent a few years living in england, and if you'd lived there your entire life it was just another unfortunate but expected consequence of the dreary uk weather.

that wasn't to say that though you always knew it coming that it wasn't unpleasant, from the plummeting temperatures, icy roads, snow covered yards, frosted windows and the icy chill of the wind as it pricked at any and every sliver of skin it could find like tiny little pin pricks.

but though it had its downsides there were some perks to the temperature drop, to you the key thing being the fashion. you'd always loved the feeling of being bundled up in a multitude of clothing. hoodies and jackets and coats and scarves and beanies, you had it all and would near drown yourself in layers like a burrito.

not that you really needed them when you had the best defence against the cold you could ever hope for, leah.

leah who loathed the cold, hated the temperature drop and detested winter with all her might. any chance she got she'd whisk you both off for a weekend away somewhere warm, which was seldom given her career choice and insane schedule.

but the best defence against the cold snap was her body pressed up against yours, arms tightly squeezing you as you'd melt into her embrace, warmth flooding your body as her rosy pink lips gently peppered tender loving kisses against any sliver of skin they could as if trying to protect it from the incoming cold.

it was routine to find yourselves wrapped up together in a mountain of blankets on the sofa wearing one anothers hoodies and limbs entangled. your body cradled between leahs legs as her hands would creep up your top to find your stomach, tracing gentle patterns on the skin with her fingertips.

the gentle lull of her heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of her chest would reward you with a sense of safety and security you knew you'd never find with anyone else, not that you ever felt the need to test the theory.

leah was perfect, and she was yours as much as you were hers.

you'd always been a morning person by nature especially having valued your studies as a teenager you were always early to school, hidden away in the library with your nose buried in a book or scribbling down notes.

leah who was your best friend at the time ribbed you relentlessly for it. but the blonde was hardly ever on time for class herself and you'd often teased she was even late to her own birth which her mum roared laughing at.

but over the years you'd tried to break her out of her sleeping habits leah learned that those little pockets of time alone with you in the library before school were some of her most treasured memories.

she'd watch you over the top of the book she was pretending to read, eyes flickering down to the page when you'd look up and almost catch her with a smile.

leah loved how you looked those mornings, your eyebrows furrowed and glasses nearly slipping off the end of your nose as you'd quietly mumble along to what you were reading, finger tracing along the words as you went.

to leah you'd always been an anchor point. reliable and dependable and endlessly endearing, and yet always seeming just out of reach as you'd flit from relationship to relationship never really settling down with anyone long enough to allow them to get to know you.

but that was where leah knew she'd always won because there wasn't a single part of you that you'd not opened up and shared with her, and much to the infuriation of your partners over the years leah was always your go to person for everything and anything, and the first person you'd go to with any sort of news good or bad.

it didn't take leah long to realise that she was in love with you, but fearing that if she stuck her foot into the rotating door of partners you'd spun over the years that her feelings might not be shared and she'd be rejected or worse lose you entirely, so it took her a long time to be honest with you.

her mum had known of leahs true feelings for years and was forever encouraging leah to open herself up and be upfront with you, and there were too many times to count where leah was sure she was about to do it but then she'd chicken out right at the last minute.

but as leahs football career began to grow and afternoon trainings and weekend games turned into her missing days and sometimes weeks of school for camps, tournaments and academy commitments it had finally clicked.

you were just as much in love with leah as she was with you, though neither of you were yet to actually realise this.

but what you did both learn was that distance makes the heart grow fonder and the more time you had to spend apart the more you silently yearned for one another.

it was your final year of high school and leah had just returned from a tournament in morocco with the england under 19's squad. with the yearly cold snap having just kicked in and the blonde having coming from scorching temperatures you'd died laughing as she turned up to school in about ten layers.

"yes miss i've been told and i've already been given my warnings! but its fucking freezing and these don't do anything." leah snapped at your english teacher who warned her for the grey hoodie she had on beneath your uniform, yanking at the paper thin blazer covering her.

you'd grabbed her knee beneath the table and squeezed gently, giving her a warning look as leah mumbled an apology and your teacher hummed but let her outburst slide much to your relief.

"hey you need to calm down you can't afford an afternoon in you've got training." you warned quietly, her head falling to your shoulder as you shared your textbook, leah having overslept and turned up late she'd forgotten almost everything bar her head.

but with her mood only worsening as time went on you'd opted not to tease her for it, rather doing everything you could to try and make her first day back easier. "i wish i was in bed." leah mumbled with a frown, tapping her foot against yours to signal to turn the page which you did.

"you and me both lee, you and me both. lunch is next anyway, then two more classes and you get to run around and get all dirty and sweaty like you love!" you pinched her cheek and again turned the page as her foot knocked against yours.

"two classes you aren't in." leah huffed, pulling her head off your shoulder and slumping backwards into her chair, arms crossed over her chest with a frown.

the bell to end class cut you off before another word could be said, leah shoving your books back into your bag for you as the two of you joined the rest of your friends, making your way to where the six of you always ate together.

"leah!" you laughed as the girl attached herself to you from behind, hugging your back firmly to her front. "m'hungry and i'm cold." the girl mumbled, having already eaten her food you knew she was eyeing off yours.

"and thats my problem how exactly?" you mocked, shoving the last mouthful of your sandwich into your mouth and leaning up to kiss her cheek. "mate the betrayal!" leah gasped, fingers digging into your ribs as you squealed and tried to push away from her but the girls iron grip was unbreakable.

both of you missed the knowing look shot among your friends, all of whom had front row seats to your endless pining over one another over the years and had spoken to the pair of you individually about no longer dancing around it.

"wanna go to the library?" leah asked, chin resting on your shoulder as you reveled in the warmth from her body hugging yours. "is leah catherine williamson willingly asking to go somewhere with books!" you gasped sarcastically as she flicked your ear.

"yeah its warm in there they have heaters!" "alright you've sold me lets go."

"stop looking at me and read those notes, you need to catch up!" you kicked her from where the two of you sat cross legged on the floor, hidden away behind the aisles. "but its so boring man!" leah groaned, snapping the book closed and dropping it in her lap.

"then go find a book thats interesting, i have to finish this." you chuckled, gaze dropping back to the homework in your lap as leah rolled her eyes. "thats not even mandatory and we got it an hour ago, you don't need to do it right now!" leahs foot nudged the book.

"its not mandatory for me but you're behind and its mandatory for you. so if i finish it now then you can take it with you and copy after training so you won't need to stress." you answered without looking away, swatting her foot away as leahs face softened.

it was at that moment as you sat together in the library, hair tucked away in a beanie and glasses once again hanging off your nose that leahs body surged with adoration for you and for the first time along with that came a confidence she'd lacked until now.

"hey. can we talk about something?" her foot bumped you again and hearing the obvious switch in her tone of voice you nodded, putting aside your notebook and raising your eyebrows to show you were listening.

"so i have this friend yeah? and she's sort of got this massive dumb crush on someone shes really close to, like her best mate." leah started, avoiding your eyes as she looked up to the roof and you frowned a little.

"okay." you nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue. "but she's afraid that if she tells her best mate that they won't feel the same way and it'll make it weird between them." leah continued, still not looking at you as you moved so you were sitting beside her.

"okay." you repeated, unsure if you were misreading this as your hand sat dormant by leahs. "so what would you do?" leah asked, a lot quieter now. "if i was your friend?" you clarified as she nodded, neither of you making eye contact.

"i would tell your friend that lifes too short, that she should tell her best mate. because if they are close then even if the feelings aren't the same it won't ruin anything, and if the feelings are the same then by telling them she won't miss out on an opportunity to explore that." you answered honestly, heart hammering now as you hoped you weren't misunderstanding.

a silence fell between the two of you the only noise the gentle chatter of your peers scattered around the library but in your own little bubble all you could focus on was leah.

suddenly your pinky moved just a few centimetres, gently nudging leahs before stilling. holding her breath leahs own pinky inched sideways a little grazing yours, and slowly you felt it interlock, eventually her whole hand grabbing onto yours and interlacing your fingers.

"so i'm sort of in love with you and i have been for years, and i don't know if this makes things really weird and if it does then i'm so sorry but you're like the best human ever and-" leahs head snapped toward yours as she started to ramble making your lips curl into a smile.

leahs words died in her throat as you cleared the gap between you and cut her off pressing your soft lips to hers, pulling away as the blonde stared at you dumbstruck.

"does that fix your friends worries?"

several months later and you and leah were even more smitten with one another than before. with school nearly finished you knew leah was angling for a contract with the arsenal senior team and when leah wanted something she put her entire being it making it happen.

"hi love! she's still upstairs, even though she knows we need to leave in five minutes!" leahs mum amanda greeted you with a hug before yelling upstairs making you laugh. "im nearly ready woman keep your pants on!" came leahs yell back making her mum roll her eyes.

"charmer she is." amanda sighed as you shot her a grin and she hurried off to make sure jacob was ready to go, the four of you headed to watch him play with his own team.

jogging upstairs you entered your girlfriends bedroom but frowned unable to see your actual girlfriend inside of it. "rah!" you jumped about a foot in the air as hands grabbed your waist and spun you around.

"dickhead! don't do that." you scowled as she put you down, doubled over laughing as you kicked her and she whined, flopping down onto her bed. "leah you're not even dressed, hurry up!" you groaned impatiently.

"okay sorry mum!" the blonde mocked, disappearing into her closet as you clicked your heels together impatiently. "stop that! its stressing me out." leahs head popped out to point to your feet as you smiled and continued to do it making her eyes roll.

"leah we need to leave, shift it!" amanda yelled from downstairs as you stood up, the blonde finally stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed. "ready now?" you quirked an eyebrow. "mm not yet, one more thing." leah held up a finger as you sighed, hearing amanda huff from downstairs.

to your surprise your girlfriend grabbed your hands and pulled your body into hers, one hand cradling the back of your neck as the other nudged your chin upwards and her lips captured your own.

"we need to go!" you laughed quietly into the kiss, trying to pull away as leahs grip on the back of your neck tightened. "they can wait thirty more seconds." leah grinned, teeth tugging on your bottom lip teasingly.

but right as it started, the kiss came to an abrupt end as leah pulled some sort of material over your eyes. "come on! god you're always making us so late babe." leah groaned holding her hand out as you adjusted the beanie she'd put on you and rolled your eyes.

"you know being cute only gets you so far williamson."

once at the game you and leah tried to be discreet as you sat down together, not having told either of your families just yet. but with amanda on your right and leah on your left with her aunt and cousins sat behind, it didn't take long.

the two of you were pressed as much into one another as you could be, leahs arm draped over the back of your seat as you leaned into her side and she'd whisper things into your ear every few minutes making you grin or giggle.

your feet would tap and poke against one anothers playing footsie like a couple of children, one of your hands resting on leahs knee, fingers playing absentmindedly with the strands of denim which protruded from the rips in her jeans.

you both missed the amused looks from leahs mum beside you who'd just been waiting for one of you to crack and tell her after she'd unknowingly caught the two of you making out in the living room one afternoon, choosing not to make herself known and rather leaving you both to it.

but as the game continued leahs advances seemed to get bolder, her lips kissing your cheek and forehead with a loud smack as you'd huff and shove her away making her grin and do it over and over again, for once barely paying the match any attention.

"stop! your fingers are freezing." you laughed quietly, wrenching her hand away from where it travelled up your hoodie. "and your stomach is very warm, stop being selfish!" leahs hand crept back up, cold fingers pressing teasingly into your ribs making you squeal and smack her.

"girls." you both looked up as amanda called for you, subtly pushing leahs hand out of your lap. "you know this means no more sleepovers and closed doors under my roof, yes?" amanda smiled as you choked on air and leah hit your back, giving her mum an incredulous look of shock.

"mum!" was all the blonde managed to scoff out in surprise as both of your faces burned bright red.

"what? i gave you lots of opportunities to tell me! you missed your chance love."

nowadays, the cold snap still came and your girlfriend still loathed it, but she made sure to take full advantage of all the perks she could squeeze from it.

which is why her arms tightened around your torso as you tried to get up, causing you to smile. "baby?" you spoke softly, running a hand through her blonde her, her face calm and still, eyes squeezed shut. "leaaah!" you sang out slowly, finger tracing gently across her face.

all you received was a huff and a grunt as she rolled over, burying her face in your neck and tangling her legs with yours. "come on i said one more hour and its been two now, get up!" you laughed, tucking a hand up her hoodie and scratching at her back.

"if you wanted me to get up you'd not have started that love." leah sighed happily, shifting herself even closer into you. "don't you dare! give it back." her head popped up and she cracked one eye open with a glare as you retracted your hand.

"doesn't belong to you." you teased with a smile, moving your hands beneath you as leah scoffed. "does too!" leah argued, both eyes open as suddenly she was on top of you. "so does this, and this, and this, and this and-" she peppered kisses all over your face and neck as your laughter filled the room.

"baby its cold and its raining and we both have the day off, just want cuddles." leah flopped back down on top of you, lips curled into a pout as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"fine! one more hour."

that hour again became two and with leah well and truly dead to the world this time you managed to wiggle out of bed, leaving her tucked away in the covers as your body screamed for coffee.

you sighed in relief as the first sip hit your lips, taking a seat at the counter and staring out the window, watching as each raindrop smacked the glass and trailed down carving its own little path.

"what part of i want cuddles did you not understand!" you glanced over your shoulder to see leah with the duvet wrapped around her, hood covering her bed hair and an annoyed scowl on her face.

"what part of one more hour did you not understand?" you smiled teasingly, sipping at your coffee as she rolled her eyes. "is the heat on? im actually freezing." leah mumbled, her body quickly moving to wrap around yours.

"go put another layer on then baby, the heat is on." you chuckled, craning your head back to press a few lazy kisses to her jaw, head resting against her chest. "can't believe you chose coffee over me." leah grumbled.

"well one fuels me and the other drains me so..." you trailed off with a shrug, squealing as suddenly you weren't in your chair anymore, feet off the ground as leah carried you into the living room. "leah!" you laughed as she dropped you onto the sofa and crawled on top of you.

"look! its like our private little kiss cave." the blonde beamed, tugging the duvet over her head to engulf the both of you like a fort as she hungrily kissed you, stealing the air from your lungs as her hands slipped up your hoodie.

"baby your hands are freezing!" "oh really? see my lips are the coldest right now, you would be a terrible girlfriend not to help me warm them up."

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso community #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

789 notes · View notes

elaemae · 1 year ago

Text

The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.

[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 7

Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)

CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.

Inhale..

Exhale....

Inhale......

Exhale.......

Inhale.........

Ex-fucking-hale.......

You're about to have a stroke right now.

You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.

It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??

GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!

*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*

After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.

(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)

[Satan perked up, there it was again.

That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.

On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.

You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.

But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.

There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.

He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.

With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.

And once they do...

Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]

*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*

["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"

"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"

"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]

Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)

Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...

Hays... That cruel crow..

Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.

This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...

Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.

• • • • • •

Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.

Haha... Well that's ominous!

• • • • • •

Ortho deadpanned at his brother.

It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.

Haaa....

But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...

Hm... Now that he thinks about it..

Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!

And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.

• • • • • •

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.

Dats suspicious....

Dats weird......

You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)

• • • • •

"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)

• • • • •

Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.

'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'

He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...

Oh? what is this?

His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.

This envelope wasn't here yesterday...

After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.

...!

This..!

• • • • •

Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.

Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.

They've got themselves a lead.

← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →

Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.

That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.

@caprinaesprout

@iameliseposts

@leviathans-tail-scales

@twst-om-lover

@a-traveling-void-human

Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)

Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.

279 notes · View notes

ma1dmer · 1 year ago

Text

Elden Ring - Blaidd NSFW

I will never deny myself a good knot or heat headcanon

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): he can't help but fuss over you, he'll be kind of tense, quick to jump to your every request until he is sure you are fully relaxed and comfortable

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he likes everything about you, for him there isn’t just one part to focus on, its everything that simply makes you, you, being in the position he is and having the duty he has, he notices new things he obsesses over every day

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): breeding kink? breeding kink! he won't pressure you into it, but the idea of letting him knot you completely, it's definitely something that keeps him up some nights

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): i can see him as feeling guilty sometimes of the way he wants you, maybe wanting to try out some sort of primal play, due to well him being a half wolf, but not wanting to scare you off, so he is left with his imagination, thinking of chasing you through a forest, not worrying about your safety and being the only actual predator around, and then properly claiming you when he manages to capture you

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): not that much, he is so duty bound that it's hard for him to relax and allow himself to chase after someone in that way

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): very vanilla, the only thing important to him is being able to see you, both to see your lovely expressions and to keep an eye for the subtle shift between pleasure and pain

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he can laugh, he wants you to laugh as well, won’t initiate those moments as often though, more preoccupied on making you feel pleasure, but he won’t shy away from them, and your laugher always brings a smile to his own face

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): //hmmmmm thats a tough one but i would say he might be very hairy, thats kind of a controversial opinion though

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): very passionate, he takes his time with you because he knows later on when he gets closer he might get lost to pleasure , so he makes sure you are fully prepared for him with a bunch of compliments and kisses and other types of foreplay

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): he usually doesn’t have to, his duty keeping both his body and mind quite busy, also his needs rise when you are there with him

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): he is very vanilla

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): would prefer to have you somewhere protected with four walls and maybe even comfortable on a bed, but sometimes you simply don’t have much of an option so he won’t complain if the best you two can do is a more quite part of the forest for example

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): praise, it’s something kind of embarrassing for him, but it’s nice to be appreciated especially by someone he cares for so much, it makes him want to be even better for you, prove to you how good to you he can be in more ways than one

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): hurting you, he simply can’t, things can get out of hand sometimes, due to how massive he is, but he tries to be as gentle with you as he can

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): his favourite thing to do, diving between your thighs, your hands gripping his fur, his claws digging in the plush of your thighs as he holds you still for his tongue, he also likes face riding a lot.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): will usually start slower, but the closer to his orgasm he gets the rougher and faster he gets, apologising with every thrust , telling you how much he loves you, how he just can't control himself

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): would prefer not to purely cause he is worried about you not being properly prepped up for him but otherwise it’s a welcome distraction

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): would rather not, doesn’t want any surprises and its kind of hard convincing him to try out something entirely new, he doesnt want to disappoint you but prefers to stick to more vanilla things

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): being a fighter is his entire being, so he has a lot of stamina, a lot of energy, however, due to, complications //cough knot cough he mostly goes for one long round

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): he doesn't feel intimidated by anything, he wants you to feel good so he would absolutely be game with using toys on you, however he himself prefers your touch

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he can't deny you, he simply can't so teasing is out of the question, he is more playful during your day to day but he prefers to serve you when you are naked.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): surprisingly quiet, he grunts and huffs a lot and the closer he gets the more he growls ,his voice strained low and grumbly as he warns you he is about to cum.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): I think he would have some sort of oral fixation , gently biting into your shoulder, or licking your fingers or running his tongue up your legs and to your thighs

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): big very big and thick, has a knot for sure

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): he is in control of his needs for the most part but he does tend to get excited when you are around, your scent ,your voice, the feel of your body beneath his big hands, you make him lose his mind

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he is surprisingly quick to fall asleep, he'll be holding you close, face pressed at the top of your head and as you are talking his eyes will droop until he is finally asleep, if you wake him up he'll try to pretend he wasn’t asleep

#Blaidd #blaidd the half wolf #Blaidd smut #Blaidd x reader #Blaidd the half wolf x reader #Blaidd the half wolf smut #elden ring smut #elden ring #elden ring x reader #.writing

522 notes · View notes

ineffable-endearments · 1 year ago

Text

Aziraphale as a natural collectivist and Crowley as a natural individualist raise their beautiful heads once again!

Aziraphale's huge mistake during the Final Fifteen is, obviously, as we've rehashed a lot, assuming Crowley would accept being reappointed as an angel. This isn't out of a lack of love for Crowley as a demon. It's because Aziraphale's first instinct when he's anxious is to look toward validation from a collective of some sort...and the Metatron has just reminded him of what Heaven could "offer" as that collective. A way to do good! Safety! Openness! He doesn't consider how Crowley will feel about this in large part because thinking individualistically doesn't come naturally to him; he's so busy thinking about the joy of Belonging that he doesn't consider how much Crowley values being outside the system - indeed, that it's an essential part of him.

Crowley's mistake, I think, is arguing that it can be very literally "just the two of us." Of course they can be a couple! Aziraphale wants that. He's happy with Crowley as his most unique, enduring, intimate connection. But just as Crowley's individuality is essential to him, Aziraphale is always going to need some cause to serve, somewhere to belong. That's who he is. And he loves Crowley so much that he wants, with utter desperation, for the two of them to belong in the same place, with the same people.

As I've said before, Aziraphale's sense of individuality is growing. He wants to be an individual, not just a faceless, passionless drone in a group of other drones. I think ultimately the reason he loves Crowley so much is that's the gift Crowley's given him - the safety to explore that thing he wants so badly. He needs, I hope, to reframe himself as "belonging" to Earth, rather than to Heaven.

And Crowley does not actually want to be isolated, adrift in the universe with just one other person. He wants to put down roots. He wants to belong somewhere. I think if you had to choose a reason why he loves Aziraphale, that would be it: Crowley can feel belonging with Aziraphale, and Aziraphale also gives him opportunities to connect with others - with humans, specifically - in ways that would ordinarily never be permitted for an agent of Hell. However, he's afraid to make his connection to Earth's community irrevocable, and his fear has always been entirely reasonable, both because it puts his and Aziraphale's safety at risk and because it's heartbreaking to watch what humans do to themselves and each other ("Humans. You don't let yourself get too attached."). He'll have to overcome those fears not because they're so wrong, but just because they're in the way of what he wants.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go s2 spoilers

535 notes · View notes

potatogratins · 7 months ago

Text

— sticker frenzy

꒰ summary ꒱ living together requires a lot of adjustments and a messy journaling addiction. yuki ishikawa does his best to help you sort out your stickers and pens because it helps him, too. but one day, he wants a change in routine.

꒰ genre ꒱ fluff ꒰ pairing ꒱ | ishikawa yuki/female-identifying reader ꒰ w.c. ꒱ 1,811 ꒰ published ꒱ september 8, 2024

To be neat was the optimal way of living, according to Yuki. On top of never-ending schedules, he wanted to be in control of everything; for example, his apartment, an abode of safety and security, had to be the neatest out of everything he could take hold of. Initially, he thought he could stick to this routine for a long time. When he meant a long time, he thought years, decades, the end of time even.

Then you came along like tornadoes in spring, with boxes full of journaling materials and whatnot, placing them in empty tables, dark corners, and unseen crevices.

“Do you need all of this? Can’t you just use one pen? And a single notebook for all your thoughts?” were the first lines of ammunition he shot towards you when the both of you were adjusting to living with each other. He was rather confrontational about the whole thing and it was no surprise—after all, inviting a woman to live with him was a considerable change in his routine, but the mess was less tolerable than he had hoped.

So, while Yuki was your lover, he also became your personal Marie Kondo. He would always show an item you owned, wave it around, and ask if you would keep it. You would throw it away or sell it, more often than not.

Then began months of civil negotiations. Do you need that many fountain pens? You sold some of them away. Do you need that much parchment paper? You placed them in a box, and all of them were sorted out by thickness. Can’t you paint somewhere else? You bought a large mat to put on top of the white table if you needed to journal your day. It became a biweekly routine of some sort, and funnily enough, to Yuki, he enjoyed it more than he had thought.

Still, one part of the social contract never moved, and it was starting to affect him.

Your stickers.

When you realized the whole decluttering situation Yuki was trying to pull, you had to make sure the stickers were the first to be stored away neatly. You kept them in IKEA plastic organizers or cheap white clear books. You stuck to sticker sheets, and its stickers stayed with their original sheet till their eventual use.

But you just had this horrible habit of placing your stickers everywhere.

A new cabinet? Let’s place some stickers on the side. A reused notebook? We can add some dinosaur stickers on the cover. You never figured out why you did it, but you’ve embraced such an itch since you were a child.

Yuki, however, was not too pleased.

After a day of having the sticker frenzy, he would scrape off the stickers. It often wasted his precious thirty minutes, and by the time he would finish, he would slump down the couch next to you. Then, he would scold you.

“I feel like I’m saying this over and over again. Can we stop putting stickers on everything, please?” he would say.

You would nod and tell him that you wouldn’t do it again.

Then, a few days would come, and you’d do it again.

Every time, Yuki would be exhausted on the couch, nails slightly chipped. He would tell you off again. You would nod.

As months would pass, the scolding would get lighter in severity while at the same time, the frequency of sticker scraping would get less. Eventually, he stopped. It stopped annoying him. In fact, he wished that you would do it every day.

So here you are, sitting at the dining table. Yuki, the bore that he is (your words, not anyone else’s), is brushing up on his English while you begin to prepare your journaling. Since high school, you’ve been using the Traveler’s Notebook— the blue one in the regular size in particular—to capture every special day that you have had since then. Last week, you attended the wedding of an old friend; Yuki was your plus-one.

You take out the tiny wedding invitation and shuffle it around the page, trying to figure out the best place for the invitation. But first, you decide to step it aside, putting out the stickers, tape, and paper that you’ll use for your journal. You place a ripped square of wrapping paper in the corner while adding small stickers in the middle of the page or the rest of the corners. Afterward, you stick the wedding invitation and then Fujifilm polaroids of you with the couple and then with Yuki. You begin to concentrate on the most crucial part: the details of the day.

This is the part when Yuki knows he should be leaving you unbothered, as you need to prepare your pea-sized brain to recall everything from that morning till evening.

As you finally finish writing your entry, then you add tiny stickers, hearts, and all that jazz. Holding both sides of the journal, you hold it up and marvel at your new creation. Yuki, curious to see what you’ve done, leans closer to see what you’ve made.

“Very… girly,” he comments.

You glare at him as you defend yourself, “Obviously, it had to be cheesy. It’s a wedding. I needed to add the doves, rings, the bride, and the groom.”

You begin to clean up your mess as Yuki continues to read his books. When you return to fetch the last set of materials, Yuki finally places his book down as the both of you prepare for bed. You lie on the right side of the bed while he is on the left. He brings himself closer to you, and suddenly, you can feel the heat of his entire body on you. His arm is tangled with yours, and his lips are near your ears.

He kisses it. Lightly.

“I could get used to this every day,” he tells you, “I know it. I’m sure of it.”

You bring one of his hands to your lips, but you don’t kiss it at all but warm it with your soft blows like a prayer. Then he kisses your nape, and the both of you feel like you’ve met for the first time again. Your sighs are deeper than the sea, and for the next few minutes, there are touches of love entangled in metaphors. Slowly, you and Yuki drift into reverie, a candle of manifestations and desires, an atonement to reality.

Then, when you wake up, you’re all alone.

You can hear plates clanging outside the room. Then, for a minute, your eyes shut, and the sound stops. But you begin to hear pans clanging and something frying. You get up from bed and walk out of the room to check out the commotion to find Yuki trying to make breakfast.

“You know I’m in charge of breakfast for a reason,” you say.

“Good morning,” he greets you.

You wave your hand, your groggy state dragging you to the restroom.

You lightly slap your cheeks, trying to find some more consciousness if your brain could allow you. You wash your hands slowly, letting the cool water run from the wrist to the tip of your fingers. You dry your hands, and when you look up—

There are stickers on your face.

In horror, you walk out and ask Yuki, “Did I leave this on all night?”

He shrugs and is startled by what’s in the pan. The eggs are burnt. How does one burn an egg? You shake and slap your head.

You head to the study table where your materials rest. You go through your collection and try to figure out where they came from.

Where did they come from?

You shuffle some parts of your table but return them to their original place. Then, you see your journal sitting on top of the table. You slide it slowly to find a note that reads:

Will you marry me?

Four words are enough to drive you crazy. You read it like a broken record, and you bring it to the level of your eyes. You’re astonished, drunken in some unknown joy. You put the note down, still holding it, and turn to the door.

Yuki stands right there, leaning by the door. He’s smirking, but you know he’s scared shitless.

“Did you buy these stickers for—”

“Yes. I bought it for this specifically.”

“I thought you didn’t like all this cheesy stuff.”

“Eh… well…”

He scratches the back of his head.

You hold his hand, and you’re both standing there in silence. You can feel his hands begin to sweat as you’re standing there contemplating a question still left unanswered. He looks at you intently; he wants to shake your body to know the answer out of nervousness, but he knows it takes time. There’s a part of him that’s grateful that you’re standing and thinking for a while, for making good life-altering decisions has always been your greatest trait.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

Suddenly, he turns away and throws his fist in the air like he’s stuck in one of his games. He picks you up. Then he pinches your cheeks before kissing you. He’s out of breath because you know he needs a kiss—and badly. There’s a quench in him he didn’t know he had. It’s an itch that’s scratched differently every time.

When the both of you finally break apart, you peek towards the breakfast and then look at him.

“Did you really burn those eggs?”

“Yes, I did. I was nervous, alright? You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

You tease him by laughing and pointing at him. He’s all red, but he knows more than to turn away from embarrassment. He looks at your smile, and he savors it; he feels fuller than consuming the average meal. Immediately, you make him lean down on you as if to ask something about it.

He gives you those puppy eyes as if to wait for your next demand. Then you pat his cheek and bite it.

Silly girl.

He rolls his eyes and urges you to begin breakfast. He doesn’t eat before you take the first bite, and when a sound of delight comes out of your mouth, he is beyond relieved. He looks out the window and into the sky to give him a form of remembrance for one of the happiest days of his life. He turns to you, gobbling his cooking up, and he laughs to himself. You look up at him, and you’re both looking at each other, and there’s a growing feeling of anticipation. Both of you continue to eat without keeping an eye off each other, and that feeling is finally described: that feeling of excitement for something permanent, something that you feel you could get accustomed to until the world comes to a stop.

#mine #mine: ishikawa yuki x reader #ishikawa yuki #yuki ishikawa #ryujin nippon #rjn #kapag hindi nanaman gumana tags ko magdadabog ako

117 notes · View notes

nephtheless · 3 months ago

Text

OWV Young Founders ::3

::D

Okidokie, time for some Audacity Factory HC...

HCs I've picked up from various places (and some of my own) regarding the founders:

Esker is the oldest, and sort of just happened to inject themself into the whole thing out of concern for the younger 4. They share a living space with Slate, are a Mechanic/Tree keeper, and taught Slate a good amount of what they know (think this last bit might be something I saw in a fic on AO3 by erosophic)

*gets sidetracked by that damn hat...* *grrr*

Slate and Gossan were once super close because they are close in age, but then, well, stuff.

They used to work in the mines together before Slate moved on to building/maintaining other machines around the village (@merrydock 's the official 'Miner Gossan's pioneer :D).

I HC Gossan, Tuff, and Feldspar share a living space near the mines.

Merry had some awesome thoughts on how the first ships were probably modeled after the mining rig, therefore Gossan had a hand in designing them (especially the cockpit). I imagine that the same could be said for the safety gear the astronauts eventually wear as space suits?

Feldspar is the second youngest of the founders. They are chronically ill (based on @elwensa 's comics) and feel driven to enjoy life as much as possible as a result (which means they don't give a damn about putting their life in danger while chasing thrills). They can't work in the mines because of their lungs, but they can fill in where they're needed with a bunch of other things around the village. I saw somewhere the idea of them doing Firewatch duty along with Tektite. This may also be merrydock's HC... *scratches head and wills away dementia*

Hornfels is the youngest, and the brainy (nerd) one of the bunch (@rondoel 's rendition of them is priceless!). I would think they'd be a good teacher before they went on to become an Astrophysicist/Ground control/Museum curator.

*takes a breath*

Yeah, that's it for now... factory closed :)

Oh, I'd anyone's interested, I have written some fanfic exploring the dynamics between the founders in their early days. You can check them out here: AO3 | TheLesserNeph (specifically the 'Postcards' series and 'MECO')

#outer wilds #outer wilds fanart #outer wilds art #outer wilds feldspar #outer wilds slate #outer wilds gossan #outer wilds hornfels #outer wilds esker #Audacity Factory #outerwilds

47 notes · View notes

klunkcat · 4 months ago

Text

kitchen counters

part of the "live to let you shine" collection

rise of the tmnt word count: 2.7k

archer au belongs to @goodlucktai but they've been more than kind and let all of us expand the larger universe with them on this journey. Check out the link for future instalments by my lovely collab partners.

Art in this chapter is by the lovely @soldrawss

it's a delight and an honor to play in this sandbox with you all <3 read on ao3

He got up. He started the coffee machine, making sure to put the exact scoops needed and enough leftovers for an eventual third cup if it was that kind of day. It always was that kind of day. Today he was thinking he’d make avocado toast for breakfast. April had brought a bag of avocados yesterday, sometimes the variety was more effective than even a third coffee.

Sometimes his brothers almost smiled.

There were motions to this sort of thing. You made things with your hands to keep them from shaking, you washed blankets and folded them on empty couches. You kept the TV on playing old movies just to pretend it wasn’t silent.

He’s been moving in the same path for long enough to be an expert. No one notices. He doesn’t need them to notice.

The coffee pot is full, the kitchen is warm. If he’s alone then he’s alone and finding tasks to be busy with. To keep his hands moving.

“Hi,” A voice greets him. Mikey blinks up, he’d been making toast, probably; half unconsciously. A familiar dotted face stares back, impassive and steady.

Giorgio, the last little light. It pulls a smile on his cheeks from some tired place within himself that’s still curved comfortable and safe. “Hi sweet kid, want some breakfast?”

Gio settles himself against the counter, arms crossed and wide eyed. He nods slowly.

It’s one of those mornings again— he’s aware of the way the silence clings to the bones of this place, shaves it cold and hollow with memories no one wants to think on. There’s no movement down the hall to Donnie’s lab, but the door is shut fast and firm. The wide open spaces where the skate ramp had once stood are stark. It’s a morning that feels haunted, except they’d all want for the haunting if they could.

“April brought groceries?” Gio asks quietly. It’s more a prompt than a genuine question.

Gio had fallen into their lives at a point where the safety net had more holes than threads to hold. He was young, had the signs of a life hard won and fought through, but he tried. Absorbed absolutely anything his family would give him, even when it was nothing at all. Dark eyes, taking in any and all of the light he could just to find himself.

It was a tragedy in three parts just to watch him thrive off wavering candlelights and embers, wandering around the halls like a detective finding hints of some past crime.

Mikey squares himself. Finds that thread left in him that’s farther and farther away every day. Gio deserves the light, he can make some for him. He can.

“She did, I’m going to introduce you to the wild world of avocado on toast today. How’s that sound?”

Gio shrugs, curiosity flickering in his dark gaze. He’d take anything any of them laid out for him like it was a gift. Mikey’s throat ached with the old wound of wishing.

“You know, it’s funny. The first time I ever got my hands on fruit like this was because of April. Hard to buy things in stores, you know?” Gio did not know, Gio grew up somewhere far away in between pages, but he tilted his head at Mikey like he understood anyways. Mikey’s grin grew stronger. “I think it was peppers. Thought it would be neat to make these stuffed ones I’d seen on TV, use up all these special spices. Man, they were good .” He turns back to the fruit in front of him, carefully and easily slicing around the pit in the center.

“Raph had two, ate them so fast I didn’t even see them go. So I thought I’d make him a third. Asked if he’d want this next one with more spice.” He shakes his head fondly. “And he just sort of squints at me, you know? He says, ‘are peppers not always spicy?’ So that’s how we found out he was allergic. The guy didn’t even stop trying to eat them after.”

Gio huffs a breath, it’s as good as an outloud laugh. The bones in Mikey’s hands feel warmer as he carefully scoops the halves of the fruit into a bowl.

He knows the version of Raph that Gio knows is… different. That he barely talks, let alone plays along. It’s another ache, another ghost. Mikey scoops out the pit from another avocado, and crushes it in with the rest.

Mikey doesn’t want the kitchen to be silent. He’s so, so tired of silence. “You want to hear a story?”

The quiet telltale noise of a kitchen chair sliding back answers his question for him, Gio props his chin up under his hand. The pilot light in Mikey’s chest flickers fondly.

There are a thousand versions of a thousand moments he could pick from, they all hurt like pressing on an open wound. Some are more like bruises, though. Some he thinks are better to hurt.

“There was this chef I knew. Had this crazy accident with mutagen, somehow instead of using it to make his cooking show more popular it made him desire eating people. Go figure.” He scoops out a portion of the spread onto a piece of toast, scraping it across as he talks. “Had a vendetta for people that told him no, funny that. He’d decided once that his whole plan would be to poison every other potential competition, which was crazy but you have to believe me when I say his pastries were actually that good.”

“Better than yours?” Gio cuts in softly.

He’s so, so grateful for the little bits of love Gio’s found here. How he radiates all of it back out so loudly in his own way. “Hah, I learned everything I know from watching him, but I will take that compliment.” He grabs two plates and slides them across the table, dragging his knuckle gently across Gio’s cheek as he goes.

“We drove Raph up the wall. ” He remembers fondly. “He was dead set on trying to teach us to handle problems, and we were distracted by how delicious these things were.”

Gio arches a brow. Mikey laughs, holding up a hand. “Survival instincts developed later.”

He sits across from the kid, who hasn’t even made a move for his toast. Dark eyes serious and trained on him like anytime Mikey talked about who they had been before. Echoes of echoes, ghosts haunting themselves.

“You wouldn’t believe it. All of us blearily goofing around and Raph panicking, trying to get us to take any part of it seriously. And our blue just walks up to a guy we needed information from, sweating up to his eyeballs and manages to charm his way almost entirely through the whole thing.”

His smile turns inwards. They’d all relied on Raph so much, then, but there’d been these moments where Leo would just… clue in to what needed to happen. Pull an answer out of thin air like he’d known it all along and was just hoping someone else would give it a shot first. He’d always seen twenty steps ahead.

Gio shifts. Reaches for his toast and takes a careful bite. Mikey pulls himself back to the present, makes sure his smile is warm and fond.

“If we’d had you back then, I’m sure you’d have thought we were all completely off our rockers. Raph would have been delighted to have a back up.”

He loves you, Mikey thinks. He does, I swear. He’d have loved to have loved you.

The kid hums, considers. “Depends.”

“On?”

Gio shrugs. “How good were these pastries?”

The kitchen is warm, the laugh that bursts from him is bright. Real, for a second, caught in this space between loss. He faults that for the way he forgets himself.

“Leo would have loved you,” he says.

The moment freezes. Ices.

Gio’s eyes are shining, but careful across from him.

He doesn’t say his name; he thinks it, a thousand times a thousand ways, but he doesn’t say it. He can feel the flinch like a wounded noise in the stillness of his home. Ghosts misplaced and unsettled.

Right.

The smile fades.

He misses the flash in Gio’s eyes.

“You know,” Mikey makes himself say, a limping version of his usual cheer strangling itself in his voice. “I think I’ll save the rest for later. Maybe when Raph and Donnie are up.”

“Right,” Gio says, softly.

Raph and Donnie are never up. Dad’s room is a black hole. April hasn’t stayed in the lair longer than saying hi in months. Ten years stretches itself long and warped across the stone floors, a shadow that never sits right.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” He says to Gio’s careful dark gaze. I’m sorry , he means. I don’t have more to give you. I’ll be better next time.

Gio shifts, scoops Mikey’s plate from in front of him. It’s okay, it means. I know. It’s plenty. This is enough.

There were motions to this sort of thing. You tried to be someone larger than yourself. You watched your family drift farther and farther away. You were never enough on your own.

The coffee pot is full, the kitchen is empty. He can’t pretend his hands don’t shake when he stops moving.

Gio didn’t need a lot of love, he thrived like a weed on the barest scraps of it; a dandelion pushing through old slabs of shattered concrete. A kid growing despite himself in the middle of a ruined family.

He should have it, though. The kind that was loud, was obvious. Didn’t need explanations or excuses, the kind that just was.

Mikey’s family did love Gio, he knew they did. It was just… All of their love had gone somewhere else. Down a rabbit hole, following a comet in the night sky. Flashfire quick and burnt up in the atmosphere. It existed, it was there, but quieter; the feeling of heat after the sun has left.

Raph sometimes brushed his hand across Gio’s head when he made the infrequent journey from the practice area to the front door. Dad called him ‘Grey’ in the same way he’d used Orange and Red and once, Blue. April had gotten into a kick of looking for all the types of food Gio had missed out on through his ambiguous years before them, roped the kid and Mikey into trying out recipes together too.

Don kept looking forward. Mikey couldn’t ask anything more of him.

The love was still there, though, because it always was. It just wasn’t always the kind that Mikey thought the kid deserved. The kind he himself had been lucky enough to know when he was younger.

You should get to be greedy, Mikey thinks, watching the kid try and fail another time to breach the threshold into Donnie’s room. You should never have to question it.

A larger lump in his throat he clears away with a harsh blink, sorry Leo, you left me pretty big shoes to fill.

“Morning,” He tries for a smile, forcing everything else back under the constant thrum of movement he’d been surviving off for ten years and four months. Gio blinks up at him, as unphased as ever by his brother's complete lack of interest.

Mikey notes it anyways, the twinge of a furrowed brow, the unsure creep of his shoulders. He stores it in the place behind his heart he’s built for all the protective instincts he doesn’t know what he can do with. He puts a hand on the kid's shoulder.

(He leans into it, of course he leans into it. Fractions of fractions of a family he should have always known.)

“Hi Mike.”

“Hi, I have something for you.”

Gio’s perpetually flat expression melts into a sidestep of curiosity. “For me?”

Mikey giggles, rubs a hand across his spotted head. “See any other little brother’s around? Yes, for you, kiddo.” He leads them towards the kitchen, to the bench stools against the counter. He tries to make it bright in here, he remembers the kitchen always being warm. The kitchen should be warm for him, too.

Gio lets himself be led easily, dark eyes wide and trusting. He is a nineteen year old built in heaps and parts and scraps off self determination, of needing to survive and surviving it alone, but sometimes it all melts into something malleable; something Mikey can almost see the shape of, reaching all the way back half their lives into the past. He tries to be a good big brother the way he learned.

He holds out a sweater, fresh from the dryer and as soft as anything with wear. Bright red and too large, the perfect shape Mikey had always thought, to feel like you were carrying home with you in your arms.

“Loved to borrow this thing when I was younger. Figured it was time to pass the mantle officially,” He tosses it to Gio.

The kid stares at it, at him. Holding it as though the sweater were a fine piece of china and not a decades worn old thing they’d all lovingly had a hand in weathering. Mikey huffs a laugh, feels his smile hang lopsided. “You’re supposed to wear it, Gogo.”

His jaw works. “Isn’t it…” he hesitates, gaze snapping over to the practice room. “Isn’t this Raphael’s?”

Raph’s, Mikey thinks with heartbreak in his hands. Raphie’s. Formalities don’t belong here, I’m sorry I can’t make you believe me.

Mikey nods. “Mhm. Said you should have it, you know. Little brother special.”

He hadn’t really, he didn’t say much of anything to anyone. He’d seen Mikey take it, though. It was as good as giving.

Gio’s dark eyes snap up to his, something overwhelmed building in his expression before he scrunches his hands and pulls the whole thing over his head. Mikey is right, it’s far too big. The bottom of it brushes his shins.

“It’s too big,” Gio says quietly.

Mikey’s not having that today, he shakes his head, stepping forwards. “No, it’s perfect. Exactly right. You’re practically as tall as me, kid, do you think I pulled this off any better when I was your age? Right of passage.” He bends, and carefully tucks the ends of the sleeves into themselves, rolling it all to Gio’s forearm.

“See? Perfect fit.”

There’s a moment— Gio looking up at him, eyes wide. Sleeves poofed and large, hood a halo around his neck— he sees a flash of blue.

“Yeah?” Gio says, flatly as he does. Mikey thinks he detects a hint of nerves in there, something akin to a kid who was once shy. He nudges Gio’s chin with his knuckle.

“Would I lie?” He grins.

He isn’t expecting the serious stare in return. “No,” Gio says, confidently. Without hesitating. Like it isn’t a hole puncher through the core of him, like he’s maybe been hearing the ‘they love you’s’ all along, like he can feel it in the hems.

The kid looks down at the sewn on pocket at the front, shoves his hands in delicately like he’s unearthing a spider web from the dew. “Thank you,” He adds, after a moment. “I won’t wreck it.”

Mikey’s heart springs another leak. “You couldn’t possibly, buddy.”

When the opportunity came, Gio jumped at the chance. Mike let him, god help him, he did. Fighting himself and the cobweb reminders of a brother he was trying to save, that it wasn’t a trade. That he wouldn’t, that losing Gio would be another piece of himself left behind.

It didn’t help that Gio had folded the sweater so nicely. That he’d pressed it into Mikey’s hands and smiled in that tiny, sweet way of his, that he was sure Raph would want it back.

He’d want you back, he’d wanted to say. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Gio looked at him like forgiveness and regret all in one.

Sometimes it goes like this:

You’re a brother, you’re a part of a whole, and then you’re a part of a fracture. Sometimes you love, and you love, and you lose anyways, and what’s left behind is still beautiful, but it looks like somewhere you’ve never been before. You miss what it was, but the places where you were are small and curved and perfect, and what you’d had to become in the remnants is not anything like it had been at all.

Sometimes someone has to go, and it’s not always you. He tries to be okay with that, he doesn’t think he does a very good job.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #hamato michelangelo #tmnt fic #my writing #hamato giorgio #the archer au #literally have not been so inspired to write so much in forever thats the gio (and tai) effect #thank you so much for giving me n!mikey im insane forever #also the art in this actively killed me sol nailed exactly what i was going for completely im inconsolable

42 notes · View notes