#but comfort from an imaginary being is still comfort nonetheless

[athofear]

anonymous request for some bloodmoon, or as they called it, watchhunter :)

bloodmoon has always been a big favourite of mine so it was only about time i drew something for it. They consume mine thoughts.

also, anonymous asking is enabled now, don’t know why it was turned off… fixed!

[ohbo-ohno]

I love your work!! Congrats on 1k followers- your fics are amazing💙💙 May I request ‘country house’ and ‘something isn’t right about (setting). Something is off.’ ? Maybe with Price x reader please? (-:

1k game here - no more please!

i have an unreasonably difficult time thinking of a "something's off" for these prompts. but we write on nonetheless!

1.1k of price being your young daughter's "imaginary" friend. fair warning, this one doesn't have an actual price appearance, it's mostly just vibes. (cw for implied stalking/haunting, no smut!)

The big country house is your dream home.

It had come when you most needed it - your sister had finally gotten tired of letting you and your five year old couch surf and kicked you out with no warning, leaving you with only your car to live in and no prospects.

You'd been driving through a tiny town, only even heard about the house because of a kind waitress who took pity on you when you told her about your situation. She introduced you to her younger sister, a local realtor who'd recently marked down a nice family home to practically nothing because she couldn't get it to sell.

It had seemed too good to be true, honestly. The house is a grand thing - two stories, a wraparound porch, relatively new appliances. The price you paid - you negotiated down - was practically pennies.

But you don't have the privilege of questioning your blessings with a little one relying on you. So you tell yourself that this is just good karma, and you get yourself moved into the home as quickly as possible.

It's weeks later, from that same waitress, that you learn why the house was so cheap. Apparently a local man had been murdered there only a few months ago - a robbery gone wrong, if your source is to be believed, and an apparently very violent death for the poor man living there alone.

It certainly changes the way you feel in the house, knowing that something so horrible happened less than a year ago. The house still feels the same, but you look at it with the knowledge of who might've been there before.

You're... well, you're very lonely these days. You work long hours at home, holed up in your home office, responding to emails and sitting on calls all day. You only really leave to drop off your daughter and to pick her up, or if she wants to go somewhere in the city. If it were up to you, you'd never leave your new property.

And the house isn't small - you've never lived in a multiple story house, let alone one with no one else there. You can never fully shake the paranoia that someone else could be in the house with you, and you'd never know.

You remind yourself that you need to get a dog as soon as you can afford one, and try to wipe the nervousness from your mind.

When summer hits, you and your daughter spend most of your days at home. The house came with quite a bit of land, more than enough for a little five year old to amuse herself with on a nice summer day. You find that you enjoy sitting on the back porch with a cool drink and a book, keeping one eye on the story and another on your daughter while she plays with her dolls.

She doesn't have many friends. You'd worry, but she's always been a happy girl, and she doesn't seem to have any sort of social issues. You don't have the money to get her to a doctor, so you comfort yourself with the idea that she's just a shy child.

So you spend your summer, just the two of you. You spend an almost regrettable amount of time in your office with the door open so you can hear if something goes wrong, but you watch the small nest-egg grow in your bank account, and you tell yourself you'll make it up to your little girl by spoiling her later.

You only start to grow truly concerned about midway through the summer, when your daughter comes to you and tells you about an imaginary friend.

"John says we should play outside today," she says over breakfast one morning, casual as can be between mouthfuls of pancake.

"What's that, honey?" You ask, only half paying attention as you mix another batch.

"John wants to go outside. He's says it's a nice day. He doesn't like that you stay inside so much."

That makes you pause, turning to look over at your daughter. She's never known a John in her life. You have no idea where this is coming from.

"Who's John, sweetheart?"

"My friend," she replies, swinging her legs above the floor, happy as can be. "He was here first. We play together when you're workin'."

You blink at her a little dumbly. You know, logically, that John must be an imaginary friend - someone her little five year old mind has conjured in all her hours alone in the big house. But still, your simmering paranoia about there being someone else in the house spikes.

"Have I ever met John, honey?"

"Nuh-uh," she giggles a little, looking at you with an expression that says silly mommy. "John's not really there, mommy. That's why I gotta take everything outside."

You nod a little, your worry assuaged. It's just an imaginary friend - a perfectly normal kid thing.

"Well," you hum, turning to the skillet to start on your own pancakes. "I wouldn't mind working on the porch today, baby. You and John can play outside all you want."

It should be just that. It is just that.

Except... the idea of an imaginary friend eats at you.

As the pieces start connecting you tell yourself that you've spent too much time alone in this big old house. You tell yourself you need to get out, to find communities for both you and your baby to get involved with.

But the dots still connect.

You think of all the times you've heard your daughter start crying in the middle of the night, only for her to be giggling by the time you get to her room. You think of the night you were sure you left the stove on (you'd planned to make brownies, but gotten distracted while the oven preheated) only to find it completely turned off when you rushed downstars.

You think of the full conversations your sweet baby girl tells about John. She tells you he's tall, with a big beard, and a funny hat. She says he's got a nice voice and soft hands. She says he tells her bedtime stories, and that he has a funny accent.

You sit on the porch one night, and the back door opens behind you. Instead of the sound of small feet pattering towards you, there's silence. The door closes another moment later.

Your daughter tells you that John thinks you should spend more time with them - not her, with them.

The bed is made one day when you're sure you hadn't bothered in the morning. You'd been overwhelmed with work, had been too stressed to bother tucking in your comforter. When you go to bed that night, it's perfectly made with almost military precision.

You watch from the porch as your daughter giggles with her doll, dancing the little toy through the air and talking to nothing. You blow a cool breath over your mug, and tell yourself there's nothing there.

That night, there's a spot of warmth in your bed when you lay down to sleep.

[gaysindistress]

Van Helsing Retold - three

pairings: vamp hunter!reader x vamp!bucky

Summary: Under the cover of night, vampires and their hunters have been at war for centuries, never letting their bloodshed reach the light of day. That is until the wife of a powerful vampire leader, Steve Rogers is murdered and he demands revenge. Y/N Van Helsing is the target of his crusade and she comes face to face with his right hand man, Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 2.5k

two | series masterlist

Tag list: permanent @hidden-treasures21 @cakesandtom @isabellatb @vonalyn

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are purely for aesthetic purposes.

The smell that hasn’t left my mind for the last three, no four, I don’t know how many days but that’s besides the point. That smell has wrapped its imaginary arms around me and is holding me tight against its strong chest as I wake up. Sam’s voice is floating around me but the heartbeat in the chest I'm leaning against is louder, pounding in time with my own. Another voice, one that’s vaguely familiar and pulls at a thread somewhere inside of me, says something to Sam.

I feel something shift and I squint my eyes in an attempt to see my surroundings. We’re in a car now and Sam is driving. There must be someone else with us if he’s driving and I’m being cradled like a child.

Wait.

Fuck.

The vampire from the warehouse.

The vampire from the warehouse that’s been haunting my every waking and sleeping moment.

He was the one who barged in on our meeting with Helumt. He was the reason I felt an anger so violent and hostile that it threatened to make me sick. He was the reason Sam and I got out of there safely while I was a limp noodle in Sam’s arms.

Scratch that; a limp noodle in his arms. He’s the one who carried me out and is holding me tight as if i'll turn into ash if he lets me go.

“Van Helsing?” Sam’s voice calls to me and I blink at him through the rearview mirror, “Oh good you’re awake!”

“Thank you for the insightful observation, Wilson,”I shoot back and I feel a small rumble of laughter against my back. I want to look and confirm what I know to be true but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to admit that this vampire has saved my ass at least twice now. I don’t want to admit that I’m comfortable and I feel safe nestled in his arms. I don’t want to admit that I haven’t stopped thinking about him or that I’ve seen him in my dreams. I don’t want to admit that there’s a part of me that awoke that day and it aches when he’s not around.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Sam asks, throwing an accusing look at me

“Well if I had to guess, I’d say I fainted because I’m fresh out of the infirmary and I have a mild head wound that’s still healing. Oh and don’t forget the venom that’s eating away at my hand. I’d say I’m not exactly in fighting shape and my brain knocked me out so I wouldn’t hurt myself anymore.”

The vampire recoils a bit at the mention of my head wound and loosens his grip. Whatever anger of his that is left in me causes me to push off of him and face him.

“And you need to explain why you were at the club and the warehouse.”

His pale eyes widen at the anger directed at him but nonetheless he explains, “I was sent to find Peggy after she didn’t show up for an appointment and Sam asked me to come to the meeting with Helmut.”

It’s my turn to be wide eyed as I snap my eyes to Sam in the rearview mirror, “Sam did what now?”

“I said I had a lead,” he mumbles, not meeting my gaze.

“You didn’t tell me your lead was the fucking right hand to the leader of the Captain’s Guard!”

“If you know how I am then why did you ask me why I was at the warehouse?” The vampire asks, annoyed like I’m the problem.

“You,” I point my venomous finger at him, “don’t get to talk until I say so. As for Sam, you need to explain right the fuck now how and why you’re in bed with the Captain’s Guard.”

“I’m not in bed with them, Jesus,” he scoffs, “he called ME as a matter of fact and i knew that if we were going to make it out of that nightclub alive, we would need backup.”

I narrow my eyes at the vampire and he raises his eyebrows at me as if to remind me that he’s not allowed to speak until I say. I roll my eyes and tell him to start talking.

“As much as I hate all of you hunters, I hate your Guild Master even more. Killing Peggy was a shit call on his part and he’s going to let you and anyone else who tries to help you, take the fall. I told Sam that I would help him find the anti venom for your hand if he helped me frame Walker for Peggy’s death.”

I stay quiet for a moment as I try to process what he’s said, “that doesn’t explain why you’re doing this. I’m a Van Helsing, you should hate me more than any other hunter.”

He studies me, his eyes looking me up and down before he speaks, “I made a promise to your mother and she scares me more than you do.”

“My mother?”

Sam clears his throat and I shoot him daggers with my eyes.

Confusions hits me.

“She died when I was a baby. Peggy killed her.”

“That might be what she told everyone but it’s not true. I took your mother to a safe house to heal and she made me promise that I would never hurt you or let any hurt befall you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Trust me, I fucking wish I was.”

“Sam?” I look at my fellow hunter, “Is he telling the truth?”

The Falcon as he liked to call himself, refused to meet my gaze once again. He’d been maybe 17-18 when I showed up at the Guild as a small and crying baby. In true Van Helsing fashion, I had been wrapped in a black blanket with one of my family’s stakes tucked next to me and placed in a wicker basket on the doorstep of the previous Guild Master’s house. Tony had only been in his early 20s, the youngest Master to take over but he, Sam, and Happy raised me like I was their own. Now that Tony was dead and Happy hadn’t been seen in years, Sam would be the only person who knew what happened to my parents. I’d thought the story he’d told me, the one that Peggy had thrown at me, was the truth but from the way his eyes stay trained on the road, I realize it was a lie.

“Sam,” I try as my voice trembles, “is he telling the truth?”

The vampire’s hand gently grips my chin and pulls my face so that I’m looking at him.

“He’s not to blame. She made us all promise to keep you safe even if that meant lying to you.”

I slap his hand away, “Don’t touch me. I don’t give a single fuck what my mother said or what she made you promise. I don’t even know you so how can I even trust anything you have to say? As for Sam, he’s just as bad as you are and the moment we get to the Guild….”

He grips my chin again and forces me to stare into his eyes as he persuades me, “You will not speak of this to anyone and until I say so, you will stay silent and not move.”

My mouth and body comply without my permission.

Without control over my body, I zone out. Disassociate is a better word for the way I can’t remember the drive, getting out of the car, or how I’ve come to be sat on an emerald green tufted couch. Sam and the vampire are conversing in low voices but it doesn’t matter. I can’t hear them. My brain has effectively shut out everything but the sounds of rain hitting the window behind me and the fire that crackles out to my right. My eyes are trained on an open book that sits on a coffee table in front of me. I can’t read the words from this distance but I can at least appreciate that the owner of this house likes to read.

I feel a hand gently grip my chin and I find myself looking into those pale eyes as he grants me freedom of my body. Sam is tense, ready to grab me if I attack but I don’t. I stay in my corner of the couch and pull my legs up, not caring if my boots ruin the upholstery. I drop my forehead to rest on my knees and I would’ve assumed that anyone else would’ve walked away but the vampire doesn’t. He, instead, sits on the coffee table and leans forward so his forearms rest on his thighs.

“I’m sorry I persuaded you,” he offers the olive branch of pleasantness in a small voice, “I couldn’t let you get yourself hurt.”

“Or worse,” is unspoken but I can feel it in the weight of his gaze that’s fixed on top of my head.

“I still can't understand why you care what happens to me,” I say barely above a whisper but I know he hears me.

“I already told you.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to nor do I expect you to,” there’s an odd heaviness in his words that I also feel in my throat. Rejection and frustration sit on my chest, constricting my breathing but it’s not mine.

“Good to know we’re on the same page.”

“Y/N,” Sam chides me from behind the vampire, “he’s not the enemy here. He can help get rid of Walker like you’ve been wanting.”

“I didn’t mean kill him!” I shout at him, “sure he’s annoying and pushy and the worst hunter I’ve ever seen but that doesn’t mean that he needs to die.”

Sam gives me a blank stare, “how many times has he sent you to do some crazy shit where you’ve almost gotten killed?”

I don’t answer. He’s not wrong; Walker has sent me on several suicide missions, Peggy being the most recent but most certainly not the last. Once again I can feel someone else’s emotions rise in me, squeezing the life out of my internal organs as they try to crawl out. Stealing a glance at the vampire, I see that his face is contorted with anger but he’s trying and failing to hide it.

I swear to all things holy if this is somehow his doing.

“It’s not for certain that Steve will kill him,” Sam adds.

The vampire before me shoots me a concerned look before looking over his shoulder at Sam, “I hope you’re joking.”

“I didn’t say he wouldn’t make him wish he was dead, just that he might not kill him.”

The vampire turns to me again, “it’s up to you, Y/N.”

I furrow my brows at him, confused about how he knows my name.

“That’s the least of your concerns,” he shoots back as if I’d said it out loud. I didn’t think I had but I shake it off.

“Give me the anti venom first and then I’ll decide.”

“That’s not how negotiations work.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck? Anti venom and then I’ll decide if I’m going to sell my soul to the devil.”

He rolls my eyes at the dramatics of my statement, “it’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

“No it’s not,” he says sternly and I want to fire back more but he continues, “Helmut was right. Whatever anti venom we find won’t work on you. What you need is damn near impossible to get unless you’re willing.”

“And what do I need to be willing to do?”

Sam tenses and shoots nervous glances between us. I narrow my eyes at him and then look back to the vampire, repeating my question.

“Drinking the blood of the vampire that infected a moral can reverse the turning process only if they’re in the midst of it.”

“Peggy’s dead, how does that help me?”

The vampire doesn’t seem to even register that I asked a question, “Do you know what mates are?”

I blink at him, “excuse me?”

“Do you…”

“Yes I know what they are, why?” I snap and interrupt him.

Annoyance flashes in his blue eyes, “the mating bond doesn’t awaken until a mortal has completed the process. There have been a few cases where it can happen during. If that happens, the blood of the vampire mate can reverse it but it severs the bond completely and can kill the vampire. It’s like taking out our hearts and expecting our blood to keep pumping.”

“Well you don’t have a beating heart so…”

“You get the point,” he snaps back.

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask while looking between him and Sam. The latter is already looking at me with a mixture of sadness and… hope in his dark eyes. Whatever hope he’s placed in this vampire is sorely mistaken and he’d be better to place it in our Guild Master John Walker.

The vampire’s watching me, studying me for any indication of what I’m thinking or feeling. It makes me uneasy to have his full attention on me but I can’t show it. Instead I drop my feet back to the ground and cross my arms over my chest as I repeat my question, “I’m not a vampire nor am I in the turning process so what do mating bonds have to do with me?”

“You are in the process. Stopped, frozen, or slow, you’re still turning and since you killed the one who infected you, the mating bond is the only way to save you.”

I laugh.

I laugh so loud and so hard that both men flinch. I laugh so long that my chest hurts and my lungs burn. Tears prick my eyes and my entire body aches from how long I laugh. When my laughter finally stops and I’m clutching my sides, I look between the two men. Neither mirror my amusement and it’s only slightly concerning.

“What?”

Sam shakes his head, “this is serious, Y/N.”

“I’m well aware that this is serious but you can’t seriously believe that I would fall for any of the bullshit he’s spewing.”

The vampire flinches slightly, “I’m telling the truth. What reason do I have to lie?”

“Oh just about a million,” I scoff before standing up, “my head is starting to hurt again, is there somewhere I can lay down?”

The vampire doesn’t respond but Sam stands too and leads me out of the room. Hurt beings to deep into my chest and it twists around inside me, causing a deep ache to start throbbing.

“He’s trying to help you,” Sam says softly with an edge of disappointment.

“But why? Sam, he’s Bucky Barnes, the right hand of the Captain’s Guard. He has no reason other than his own selfish ones to help us and I can’t trust just that.”

“Then trust that your mom and I trust him.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “as far as I’m concerned she died that night and your word has come to mean nothing to me.”

[pencilpat]

*materializes into existence*

Hey there :D

I heard ya wanted asks about your personal headcanons for the Sides? I'm curious about your thoughts on Remus & Roman, and just them being brothers. You always have the coolest takes and fanarts with them!

So, yus: ✨the twins✨

And also Virgil's and Remus' relationship with each other if ya want :3

Anyway, have fun :D

Hello my favourite breakfast food mutual! /j

I have so much to say about the twins and their relationship to each other.

To start with, I want to clarify that the two of them very clearly have a lot of issues to work out, and although I love them being brotherly, I do think a lot of their fighting might be a little... more genuine than that. They are very much pitted against each other both by their natures and by the other sides, and Remus is intentionally antagonistic to Roman a lot. It's not healthy, but they are brothers nonetheless, and like most sibling relationships they have a lot of complexities to them and their feelings on each other.

Now getting into headcanon territory!

I don't really ascribe to the common fanon of a big "splitting" event that resulted in the two of them. I also don't think there was a King as fun as that headcanon is. I think the original creativity was something more childlike, like a puppet/muppet looking fella or a stereotypical cartoon character trope - maybe something disney based. When Logan talks about them splitting like an ovum, he seems to be talking about a much slower, gradual process as Thomas had those catholic ideals of thought crimes and repentence forced into him. Religious thought like that is integrated into a child's mind in a much slower fashion than that of which would cause a sudden and massive separation.

I like to think that Remus came about the way mold or a nest parasite does. Slowly growing off of and out of the original creativity until he was his own being entirely. Strong enough to pull off of the 'host' and grow on his own. I like comparing him to a cuckoo bird baby. He didn't understand why he's so much hungrier, so much bigger, than his sibling. He didn't understand why he was so out of place and different from his foster siblings in the nest. He didn't understand why he had done something very bad, but he knew that he had. He is so hungry. So much bigger than the rest. He is so much - too much. He has done something very bad. He doesn't know what he's done. He's done something... horrible. He is something horrible.

Remus and Roman have been compared to each other and placed above or below the other their entire time of existing. That creates really difficult feelings about your sibling when you're raised like that. Remus having to always be seen as 'worse' created self esteem issues that manifest as him purposefully making himself as unlikeable as possible. He absolutely can't handle positive attention or praise, and tends to see it as not genuine or that the person is fooling themselves when he does receive it. Roman, heralded as the 'good creativity' and always put on a pedestal, is the opposite. He cannot handle negativity towards his creations or himself, and being the Ego doesn't help with that. Roman is very easily hurt by criticism because he used to always be praised for anything he made, when Thomas was a child.

Remus and Roman get in a LOT of physical fights, being imaginary has its perks such as "I can decapitate my annoying brother and he will be fine and still yelling at me." It helps them blow off some of the animosity between them, and usually they patch each other up after which also helps with that. I think they drum up entire battle scenarios in The Mindpalace with dragons and manticores and all sorts of beasts to tear each other apart, only to laugh and put each other back together.

I think that sometimes, even though most of their relationship is fighting and bickering, they really are the only one that can comfort each other. They understand each other's painful emotions and self esteem issues so well that the other sides couldn't get anywhere close to the ability they have to make each other feel better. They're brothers, no matter how much they dislike that fact, and they know each other inside and out.

This is very long so I will talk about Remus & Virgil at a later date! You can see a tiny bit of my thoughts in this post though.

[withlove-xixi]

— STAR GAZER: marcille x f!reader

ᥫ cw: none ᥫ wc: 1198 ★ once again, xixi writes marcille to themes about celestial bodies lol this one's for you 🌻 (pointing to the crowd, shooting a basketball into the hoop and missing) cross posted on ao3

— THERE ARE ONLY AS MANY STARS AS YOU CAN COUNT.

[♡]: it was something distant to marcille, the stars in the sky. something she felt she could only ever appreciate from afar, too distant for her arms to reach, try as she must. but you always loved them despite it, always loved to lay your back on the dewy grass of the hill, fix your eyes on the endless sky above. marcille didn’t quite understand, but she was honored nonetheless to have been invited to lay next to you and watch the stars.

THERE ARE ONLY ABOUT AS MANY STARS AS YOU CAN COUNT, it was something Marcille was told by some adult in her childhood, some teacher in some class or some character in some book. It was the idea that they were practically infinite, there could be as many stars as you’d want there to be. Really, it was a concept Marcille didn’t quite agree with. How could there be so much unknown? How could it remain unknown for eternity? Being a longer lived race, the concept almost bothered her, the concept of infinity, of never knowing everything to its full capacity. It just felt so foreign to leave things behind, to let the universe keep its secrets. Somehow it was a concept that completely had a hold of you though. Marcille remembers she had brought up the topic once in school, meant to rant about how foolish the whole idea was until she caught a glimpse of your face, eyes shining brightly, completely enthralled by the idea of infinity, the vast expanse of the unknown.

It was something Marcille truly couldn’t quite get. She relished the comfortability of knowing; she liked knowing things, prided herself in her studies and her knowledge. But if it was something that interested you, as much as it bothered her, she couldn’t truly bring herself to ridicule it.

Which led to now, sneaking out of the school dormitory late at night, laying in nightgowns and looking at the stars. It was a nice night out, a full moon high in the dark abyssal sky, a lack of clouds that allowed the finite stars to dance along the edges of the horizon.

She knew you did this often, sneaking out just to get a better view of the night sky, and on days you didn’t, she knew you looked out at them still from your window the same way you look at them now. She watches as you stretch out an arm to point at a star, almost as if you were trying to reach for it, which was silly because it was impossible.

“That one is Mintaka, next to it are Alnitak and Alnilam, you see?” You ask, voice quiet to mirror the silence of the sleeping world around you, but Marcille catches the distinct excitement in your tone when you speak.

She pouts up at the sky. They’re all just dots to her. “Not really.” She answers truthfully.

You scoot a bit closer to her, then you gently lift her hand, guiding it to follow the imaginary lines that connected the stars. Your fingers just barely intertwine with hers as you trace the sky together.

“Mintaka here, see? Then Alnitak and Alnilam.” You explain again, soft and slow, patient.

Marcille nods, though she’s far more focused on the warmth of your hand seeping into her skin than she is with those stupid lights. You smile at her and the biting chill of the late night completely vanishes, replaced entirely with fluttering warmth.

“They’re called the Three Kings,” you explain as you turn your attention back to the sky. You move yours and Marcille’s hand together, tracing more senseless patterns in the sky. “If you connect these stars here, and these there… You’ll see that the Three Kings are actually part of a constellation. See? They form the belt of a warrior.”

She nods again. “I see it, I guess.” Her voice sounding a bit more confused and disinterested than she intended. She cusses at herself for it.

But instead of calling her out, you giggle. “Not everyone does. They never really form an exact shape too, but I think that’s what’s beautiful about them.” Your hands leave hers to rest on top of your stomach, much to her disappointment.

“Really?” She asks, doing much better now at masking her disinterest. Had it been anyone else she would’ve scoffed and told them it was all so idiotic, but it was you, so she bore through the conversation.

“They say there are only as many stars as you can count,” you say, and she feels dread settle in her stomach. Such a stupid saying…

“How many are there then?”

You hum before you reply. “Maybe twenty—”

“Twenty?!” Marcille exclaims, pushing herself up by her elbow. “No way there’s just twenty stars up there, there are far too many lights in the sky.”

You giggle, which instantly calms her down from her sudden outburst. “It’s as the saying goes, only as many stars as I can count.” You reply easily.

“Still…” she murmurs, “Could count more than twenty…”

You giggle again. “Think you’re missing the point, Marcy.”

She frowns at you before settling back to lay next to you. “What is the point then?”

“Having the world in your hands.” You reply with a soft laugh at the end. “It’s taking in only what you can. I could count for centuries and keep going, and I’m certain the stars would rival that number tenfold, but for now I’m only counting twenty. I am in control of things, I choose which paths in life to take, which books to read, which songs to sing, and how many stars there are in the sky. It’s a reminder to take things easy.”

Marcille frowns a bit deeper, not only because it makes sense but because it raises more questions. Was that really what it meant? Was it never about infinity, the endless eternity after her Marcille had lived dreading? The world in her hands… having full control of so much yet so little. It made sense, she supposed. In life, there’s only so much she could do for things to go the way she wants, whether it be for her or her community. To architect a dungeon, to study more about ancient magic, besides that, there were still things Marcille could do. Taking things a bit at a time… With her long life she always knew there was still finity in what she’d be able to accomplish; it was to take that limit and basically treat it as limitless… To see so many stars but only choose to count twenty. In a way, it was freeing, in the same way, it was dreadful.

“Hey,” you call out to her and when she turns to face you, she finds you’re looking back at her. “Only as many stars as you can count.”

She blinks at you, before a small smile breaks out on her face. You were right after all, despite everything, it was a sign to take things easy.

“What other stars can you tell me about?”

A bright smile flashes on your face before you turn back to the sky, reaching out for the limitless possibilities and impossibilities ahead of you. You point at a different batch of stars in the sky, telling Marcille each about their name and their story with so much tender care it was like you had put them up there yourself.

There really were only as many stars in the sky as you could count, and as Marcille’s eyes stayed fixed on you, as yours were fixed at the sky, as far as she could tell, for her, there was only one.

[randonauticrap]

A Letter to Myself ~ Chapter 1

Series Description: A 1st person POV Isekai Ikemen Prince adventure told by me, your narrator. Not all true stories are believable, and not all true stories are real. I have changed my name and the names of anyone who inspired these characters.

Chapter Description: Liliana goes to sleep after another disappointing experience with love, and wakes up inside a very strange dream.

Chapter Title: Dream Truths

Triggers: Negative self talk; vague mention of fatphobia

There are few things in this world I love more than singing, sleeping, and daydreaming. They’re the three things that can always reset my anxious mind, and push out all forms of mental clutter, if only long enough for me to focus on the task at hand. That particular evening, the task at hand was wishing that my situationship (who, after I admitted I had feelings for earlier that day, told me he didn’t actually feel that way about me, and saw me only as a friend) had instead been one of the dashing princes in my favorite otome game. I think everyone could agree that they would never. But the quiet of the night threatened to envelop me nonetheless; this wasn’t the first time I’ve been fooled by pretty words and flirtatious kindness. It wasn’t even the second or third, and I’ve begun to wonder who the real problem is. Am I simply misinterpreting this behavior? Was my perception truly that terrible? I didn’t think so, since I could usually nail down just about anyone I met: what their struggles were, why they acted the way they did, and so on and so forth. In fact, it was one of the things I was known for in my friend circles - being a mind reader. 

But for some reason, when love was involved, my radar was off; or broken; or just flat out missing altogether. It was something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember; to be loved the way I love, but fate seemed to stand against me in that regard. What if I just wasn't meant to have my own love story? My heart clenched at the thought that plagued me over and over. It was no mystery that my body type was not one that was so popularly celebrated in many circles, and I'd experienced my fair share of backlash over it through the years. And while, thankfully, many women in this day and age were standing up and speaking out about it, I still received far too many judgmental eyes on me when I dared to eat in public; didn't matter if it was 4pm and it was the first thing I'd eaten since I woke up at 7am. 

So it should come as no surprise that the little voice in my head - that damn goblin - often added "overweight" to the list of qualities that left men… wanting, in regards to myself. But the laundry list was miles long by now, and not even the newest Whirlpool could scrub it clean. Besides, who could afford that much laundry detergent? Certainly not me. Not in this economy. 

Usually, I could stir up some comforting scenario with the handsome first prince and lull myself to sleep in his imaginary arms, but the trick wasn't working tonight. God, of course it wasn't. I had to be up in around 4 hours to go to rehearsal, and sleep had been evading me almost as much as men did. "Is sleep a man?" I pondered aloud to my quiet bedroom. "Would make a hell of a lot of sense." I grumbled under my breath as I reached for the Melatonin gummies on my nightstand. I popped two in my mouth and chewed begrudgingly until the almost-fruit tang flavor was gone from my mouth, then let my head fall unceremoniously back onto my pillow with a dull thud. 

Now my neck hurts. Of course it does.

I tossed and turned for awhile longer, praying the Melatonin would do its work, and at last, I felt the gentle tug of sleep calling the deep recesses of my brain. Thank God, now I can go see Jin. It was the last coherent thought I had before diving under, my subconscious brain taking over, my desires in tow. 

…

…..

…….

Birds. 

I was hearing birds. Is this a dream? Those birds don't sound like the birds outside my window normally do. Those sound like… what the hell is that? A weed wacker? It isn't Friday. Is it? This has to be a dream, there's no way I missed two days; I've slept for long periods of time, but never 48 hours straight, long. That's like, coma long. God, I hope I haven't peed the bed. 

I cracked one eye open slowly, noting the lack of crust around it. Thank God, I'm finally re-hydrated. I'd been dehydrated for pretty much my entire life, through no one's fault but my own, and I'd always wanted to be one of those girls who could tote around a cute water bottle the size of a milk jug and drink it all in one day. But alas, God had other plans when he made me. Maybe he was distracted, I don't know. But I had been trying to take better care of myself lately, so I guess it finally paid off! Hopefully this means no more headaches, and-

I opened my other eye to stare up at my ceiling. I wonder what ti- wait. "M'kaaaay, maybe I do have eye crust." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes with my index fingers. Cause that's not my ceiling. Have I gone blind? Oh God, am I blind?

I opened my eyes again and flicked my gaze around the room quickly. Okay, not blind. A relieved sigh petered out of my lungs, but it only lasted a second before I cast my eyes around the room again, in earnest this time. This is not my room. My head swiveled left; right; left again. Okay, so I'm dreaming. Damn it, I probably still have eye crust. I shook my head in disappointment as I sat up in bed. The room I was in was small; tiny, even in comparison to mine, which was saying something. There was a single painting on the wall perpendicular to my right, hung precariously on the dusty beige wall. It looked like a lush green forest with a river running through the center. Pretty. 

My eyes continued their journey right and landed on a small, rustic looking side table with an oil lamp on it, along with a well-worn book. On impulse, I picked up the book and stroked its spine while I read the words on the cover. "Liliana's Adventures" Funny. That's my name. Could my brain really not come up with anything better than this for a title? Jeez, and I call myself a writer. A sound between a scoff and a laugh escaped my lips as I set the book back down on the side table and turned my head to the left. 

There was a small table with two rickety wooden chairs and what looked like a sewing project neatly folded on the tabletop. Okay, is my brain trying to tell me to pick up a new hobby or something, or did I watch too much Lord of the Rings last night? I noticed that there was a simple mirror on the wall across from me that reflected the bland beige wall above my head, the door to the tiny room, and a single window, notched in the downward slope of the ceiling to my left. I didn't understand. Why did my subconscious bring me here of all places? And where even is here? I mean, it has to be a dream. I just "woke up" and the inside of my mouth doesn't even feel gross, and there's no way that's real. 

I pulled myself out of the small, stiff bed and padded over to the window, my feet bare on the chilly wooden panels. The most beautiful garden I had ever seen in my life sprawled out before my eyes way down below. Bursts of yellow, white, pink, and red lined a maze of pathways through the middle, and showcased the gorgeous flowers in bloom. Most of them looked like roses. Wow… now I understand the weed wacker. 

I could get lost tracing each walkway with my eyes, and apparently I did, because I didn't hear the angry footsteps stomping up to the door of my room until it burst open and an irate woman screeched through it. "Leisel, quit your dawdling, we are due in the kitchen in five minutes!" The door slammed shut just as suddenly as it had opened and I jumped hard, nearly knocking my head on the sloped ceiling in the process.  "Who the hell is Leisel?"

~

Tags for the Lovelies: @aquagirl1978 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @alvieeru @aria-chikage @tele86

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

Hello, @katditca I see that you have been so gracious to want a small potion from me, though I do apologize for losing your note - I suppose I lost it while traveling; a grave oversight that I hope to remedy.

Now I see that you are wanting a little bit more time to spend doing the small pleasures of life, to relax for just a moment longer. And though it may be a more difficult potion, I am happy to provide for you.

Life was ever-changing and also at such a high speed that it made it nearly impossible for one to keep up with it. But you always had to try, for if not you would be swept up with the tied and dragged further away from shore.

But at times it was hard to fight the current that was life.

You never complained much, for truly there was nothing to grand to be complaining about in the first place, and nothing ever really seemed to bother you for you were always more than accepting of the flaws of man and willing to be patient for the sake of peace.

But such skill, such generosity, to be able to handle the burdens and trials of those around you with a smile in order to keep things calm - to sacrifice some of your time to ensure those around you had whatever they needed - weighed heavily on you.

It was not like you didn’t want to do it. You loved very deeply and helping those that needed it was part of that nature, you wouldn’t trade that for anything. But at times, it seemed more of a burden than a blessing, and you risked going off into the tide.

Bakugou, however, wouldn’t let that happen.

He may not speak much, words often failing him as he has never used them much, but he could listen, and he could see; and what he saw was how weighed down you were with the current you were swimming. He wanted to help you, truly, but how could he when the current he was swimming in was just as brutal?

There simply was not enough time within the day to spare; not without a little help at least, and though Bakugou was not only a fan of reaching out to someone else for help - he can and would easily swallow his pride to ensure you got what you needed.

He wasn’t a fan of the peddler and found her tone to be mocking as she inquired about his visit - about a request for a potion - stating how it wouldn’t be easy to brew but she could make an exception in his case; how lucky was he. And he sat there, for what seemed like hours, watching her create the potion he requested with ease, her humming to an imaginary tune causing his patience to wane and eyes to twitch, but nonetheless, he endured it for you; for a small vial of time - being told it must take two people to drink the potion for it to take effect.

He mixed it with your favorite hot beverage, and him doing the same when you got home that day; he could tell your day was long, perhaps even brutal, but you still cast him that sweet smile he fell in love with, claiming your day went on fine.

“I know you’re lying” he mumbled, allowing you to sit first before he followed suit, carefully handing you your mug “You can tell me when it gets too much, yeah?”

“I know…” You sighed out, blowing away the steam from your drink before taking a small sip “It’s just, today was manageable, nothing bad really happened. So, overall can’t complain.”

“But you could.” Bakugou countered, taking a sip himself and moving to sit more comfortably.

“I’d rather just enjoy my time with you, okay?” 

You leaned into his side, allowing yourself to fully relax as his arm wrapped around you; enjoying his warmth as you both slowly sipped away at your drinks; not noticing how time started to stand still, how the clocks stopped ticking, and the sun ceased falling over the horizon. It was only when you went to go place your mug in the sink did you begin to notice; how a small sparrow sat at your windowsill, unmoving. How the trees stood still, in the middle of a breeze. How a petal of a flower stayed in the air mid-fall.

“Katsuki..?” You called out, eyes unable to cease looking at the spectacle they saw “What’s going on…?”

“I managed to get us a bit more time,” He explained, arms wrapping around you once more as his lips pressed to your neck “cause I think we needed a moment to breathe, together. So why don’t you come back to the couch and we can cuddle for a little bit, okay?”

May the little bit of extra time you get together be filled with love, my darling sweet. And please, take it easy tonight, you may find yourself a little out of sorts - it tends to happen when you're within time that doesn't move.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #239

Some very sad and confusing things happened today, and I don't know what to do. I think I'm still not ready to talk about it.

Well. Nonetheless, I had a visitor today. Ma from work came over. We played several rounds of a popular card game in my world called Magic: The Gathering. I don't know how much you know about Queen's Blood, which, as I understand it, is a card game in your world. The rules are very different, but they are similar in that they are both card games, and they both require a good head for strategy. I ended up winning 3 out of the 4 games with Ma. I felt kinda bad about it. But on the 4th game, I ended up drawing poorly, which gave his deck time to build up so it could work in the way he envisioned. The cards he selected were absolutely radiant, and watching them work together was glorious!

…To be perfectly honest, I like it better when the other person wins, when playing Magic: The Gathering. And there are two reasons for this. First, it means the other person gets to feel good and confident about their deck and about the way they put it together. Second, it means I get to see their deck in action, which is essentially an indirect way to see and marvel at how their mind works. I get to see the way they put their cards together. And I get to see the delighted and satisfied looks on their faces when their combination of cards works exactly as intended. It's a very beautiful thing.

I imagine you'd be very good at this game; you're a smart guy and you learn very quickly. Maybe someday if you ever visit my neighborhood, we can show you how it works; I think you'd have a lot of fun with it. It'd be a great way to work that brilliant mind of yours.

I thought we were going to go to the food truck festival today, downtown. But M, J, and Ma weren't feeling it. And that's cool, so we stayed home. I imagine the place would have been crowded and overwhelming for me anyway, and I'm currently not in the bestest emotional state. I'm managing; I'm staying afloat. But… well…

…

In any case, I'm pleased to tell you that the exercises I got from K at the physical therapy place seem to be working pretty well. I was in almost no pain all day today, and that was pretty great, because that hasn't happened in a while. I did a bunch of dishes today, and then I made my classic recipe of chicken leg quarters, crispy asparagus, and macaroni and cheese. I think I've walked you through the process of making that at least once. It's one of my favorite comfort dishes. Maybe one of these days, I'll get to share it with you. I discovered today that Ma doesn't like asparagus, though; he described it as his "kryptonite".

Oh, uh. You might not know what that's referencing. Uhhh, so… in my world, we have in our popular media a superhero called Superman. He comes from a planet called Krypton, but it was being destroyed by something, so his loving parents built a spaceship for him when he was a baby, and he ended up landing on my planet - Earth. He was found by some farmers, and as he grew, he realized that he has amazing strength, and the ability to fly, and a plethora of other random superpowers. He assumed a very unassuming identity as a journalist called Clark Kent, but in his spare time, he puts on a disguise and protects the world from people who wanna take it over and kill a bunch of people.

But Superman's one weakness is an imaginary substance called Kryptonite (for the record, kryptonite is a real mineral on my planet, but unlike the Kryptonite in the comics, the real stuff is basically inert; it doesn't do anything). For whatever reason, if Superman is in the presence of Kryptonite, he loses all his powers, and if he stays in its presence for too long, I think he'll die.

Most people in my world know about Superman and the effect that Kryptonite has on him. So when they say, "x is my kryptonite", what they really mean is that they hate it a lot.

So, I guess that was a really long way of saying that I made Ma some caramelized onions to go with the chicken and the macaroni and cheese, because he doesn't like asparagus. Hahaha…

…Sephiroth… I know that I write a lot in this space; thank you for putting up with it. You might conclude from this that I am a person who talks all the time, or a person who writes to people all the time. But I'm not. Truth be told, outside of this space here where I feel safe writing to you, I'm actually relatively taciturn. I tend not to demand the attention of the people around me, even if those people are close to me. Usually, I wait to engage with others until they prompt me. And it's not because I don't wanna talk to people; truth be told, I do have a lot going on up in my noggin (as I'm sure you've gathered by this point, if you've read any of these) that I wish could be easily shared. But… through the course of living, and when I consider myself in relation to the rest of the world, I've discovered this:

My life experiences and the way I perceive the world are both very weird. There's a lot going on up in my head, but almost none of it could possibly be relevant to other people in my world. And I don't like demanding others' attention to say things to them that aren't relevant to them. Almost no one in my life wants to hear me talk about the way the trees sing. They don't wanna hear me talk about my special interests. They don't wanna hear me talk about the projects I'm doing. They don't wanna hear me talk about you. They don't wanna hear me talk about my various wacky and stupid adventures. Why should they? It's not like what normal people talk about.

So I don't. And that's fine; they've got their own things that they can talk to me about if they wanna; even if I don't know a whole lot about it or even if I don't know what to say, I still listen. I still try to make myself available, even if it doesn't always work out (sometimes I can't focus for shit). But I'll usually wait for others to initiate; not everyone takes well to being asked about how they're doing or about themselves in general, so I usually wait for others to approach at their leisure, so that it can be their choice. Often enough, J will tap my shoulder while I'm in the middle of something because he wants me to listen to him talk about airplanes or about whatever else is on his mind, and I'm happy to pause what I'm doing to listen; it's delightful.

Usually bad things happen when I try to initiate, though. For example, J gets really overwhelmed and sometimes frustrated if I interrupt him while he's doing something to talk about stuff that has no bearing on his life, and that's natural. I can't just open my mouth and demand people's time like that, willy-nilly. And nearly everyone is like this; it's not just J. Besides, if I get to talking about whatever crazy shit is in my head, then either no one understands, or they get weirded out, or their eyes glaze over pretty quickly. I've noticed that by and large, people won't tell me that they wanna stop talking or that they wanna change the subject, and that baffles me.

…When I start to think I am welcomed and wanted in a space, invariably, what happens is that I mask less, and then others discover that I'm weirder and more incomprehensible than they thought, and then they don't want me around anymore. It happens over and over and over and over again, and… I'm tired. So I just shut up and listen. I've learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt by the people I wanna be loved by is to figure out what they want and just do it. Unfortunately, I don't do a very good job of that unless they tell me what it is that they want. And lots of folks are very hesitant to say the things they want out loud.

So the thing I've learned to do, in order to get around other people's reluctance to set conversational boundaries and their reluctance to tell me what they want, is to wait patiently, to be quiet, to observe keenly, and to listen carefully. Outside of this space, I tend not to speak or write unless I feel like I have something damn important to say, and I almost never feel like I do. Even for M and I, sometimes we go for a day or two without saying much of anything at all to each other (even though we live in the same house and are married), and that doesn't feel bad or wrong to me. It's just easier for everyone this way, because then everyone can be heard and I can avoid bothering people with my bullshit nonsense. I can just work by myself on my stupid little projects in peace and leave everyone alone so that they're free to do their things without needing to worry about being pestered by an annoying little shit like me. It's very simple.

In this space here, when I write to you, it's a little different. I'm not saying words with my face that then others have no choice but to hear. I am not writing things to send to their phones or their social media spaces, which they then might feel they have an obligation to read. I put my thoughts here, and the people who want to know them can read them, and the people who don't want to know can move on. It's here if people want it, and if they don't, they can just ignore it. Easy peasy. In this way, I am not an inconvenience or an imposition. I have a little bit more freedom like this, because I don't have to worry about pissing someone off and losing social face for failing to read the social cues that tell those who aren't socially blind that they're not wanted.

I can write unabashedly in these letters to you, because most of me imagines that you're never going to see them. And even if you did see them, most of me imagines that you'll just destroy them or throw them away without looking at them, anyway. After all, even if you were not a fictional character who doesn't actually exist, I have no reason to believe that you'd treat me any differently than most anyone else does.

…Sigh. It's just… it's complicated. Maybe my brain is a little warped today. I'm grieving. But it can't be helped. It's probably all my fault.

Well. It's 8:56PM. I have to wake up at 5AM to take J to Great Barrington again. If I want a good night's sleep, I have to be in bed within the next four minutes. Wish me luck, yeah?

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow. Stay safe out there.

Your friend, Lumine

[uupdirector]

I rarely bring stuff like this up, but I've recently had this exact issue for the past few months.

I'm an overthinker - it stems from my own creativity, and it's led to me conceiving grim scenarios of my life, my relationships, and even the world. Preparation is one thing, but continuously thinking of these things doesn't make it easier to confront them, if anything, it makes you want to hide. Funny thing is? It stems both ways - in fear, AND comfort.

For years, I've never really seen the line between coming up with ideas "of the future" and "for the future." I have ideas for stories all the time, but after I've thought about them for a while, my thought process on them starts to shift into 2 different phases of scenarios of how it could end up later on.

Phase 1 - Already thinking of a major climax for the idea

Phase 2 - Imagining people giving me praise for the idea, even though nothing is concrete or complete

While both of them are different in their own ways, the one thing they have in common is that they both focus on a thought process "of the future" rather than "for the future".

To clarify, "for the future" details working towards a goal that's set into mind. For me, that goal is making people - myself included, happy with what my imagination can come up with.

But through my years on YouTube, I slowly started getting used to people giving me positive feedback and kind words about all the things I've made, and while I was, and always have been grateful, it conditioned me in a way that had me seeking a reward for reaching my goals, and in turn had me thinking "of the future".

I couldn't stop thinking of all the support I had received over the years. So much that I started manifesting similar scenarios whenever I was working on a different project, which at that time, i always saw as the motivating factor behind working "for the future." I had different expectations for each, but back then, that never normally affected the creative process, as I knew I wasn't there yet and had more energy compared to what I have now.

But years later, thinking of scenarios "of the future" doesn't help in encouraging me to work on projects, and all it seems to do now is serve no purpose than to comfort me with something that doesn't currently exist. And when something is comfortable, it's easier for the unconscious mind to believe and let go of. Closure, basically. Imaginary closure, but closure nonetheless.

And this has been the biggest problem - I would never consciously know this until these past few weeks, and what really jars me is that the signs should have been clear 3-4 years ago.

By the end of 2020, Splatenstein Episode 2 was set to be my next focus, and I had everything set up, with the only thing remaining being the footage that needed to be done. Though I don't recall much, I'm pretty sure I was putting more thought "of the future" rather than what I should have been focusing on, and it wouldn't have been so bad if animating wasn't so damn uncomfortable with the PC I had at the time, and if I hadn't shifted my focus to Goliath's Requiem.

Don't get me wrong, I was and am still proud of what I accomplished for that game, but even that project is a prime example of a focus that had me imagining it's post-release before actually finishing, and man did I go way too far. Letting my excitement get the best of me, promoting the game all over the DA server, and thus practically spoiling the JoV update before it even released. What once started as a passion project for one of my best friends turned into a passion project for myself as well without realizing it... and that wouldn't have been much of an issue had Will not been in such a mental rut during DotD's production. I can't blame him - I should have known better, but my feelings and excitement got in the way and made me think I was exempt from similar behavior that the fans had.

No. No I wasn't. And that should have been the clear indicator, but nothing changed.

When I got back to work on Splatenstein, it kept happening. Even when I started work on Scarlet Combine, it kept on happening - thinking "of the future" and not "for the future." When Storm Before The Calm released, I couldn't help but notice a sense of emptiness I've never felt for any of my works. This was why.

To think, had I come to this conclusion years ago, maybe I wouldn't have had such a struggle figuring out the conclusion to the original Tormented. Maybe I could have continued Splatenstein. Maybe Splat Ops Fresh War could have happened. Maybe Storm Before The Calm might have been my proudest project to date.

Could've

Would've

Should've

I've already hit the ReFresh button, and on one hand, while I wish that I could go back to how things were, doing so would ultimately ruin me even further. I want to grow, I want to change, and I want to improve. But the only way I can do those things is by focusing "for the future," while staying in the present. I'm lucky to be here doing what I love and have people around me supporting me in my work, and I want to keep that ball rolling while making sure that I am okay. It's taken time to reach this point, and it's going to take even more before everything fully clicks. But I will make it, I have to.

No matter what happens in the future, we're still here. You're still here. I'm still here. And as long as we give ourselves today what we've needed long ago, things will work out. I believe in it. I believe in you. I believe in me.

Thanks for reading my Ted talk. Hope y'all have a good rest of your day. 💙

[id0g]

I can't sleep. I feel so sad and hurt. If I had literally anything else going for me I'd quit art school right now and never look back. I feel so stupid for even trying to do this.

Every 3rd year student that takes a PRAX class (basically a class where you do research related to your art practice and make work accordingly) has to sign up at the end of the semester for a review panel. Two teachers who probably don't know you, your work, or anything basically come to critique your project for PRAX.

My project was a frog modeled after a radio I had as a kid. I mostly do plush making now so I made an imaginary friendified version of him and I wanted to keep the audio aspect and put together a series of CDs with a wide array of audio related to my childhood- from me telling bedtime stories as a kid to freaking Club Penguin pizza theme. It went over super well in my actual class. I had peers laughing along with the funny home video clips, bonding over familiar songs. My actual prof gave me a perfect grade for the project.

So why does it feel like my panelists hated it the second they walked into the room? Their aura was menacing but nonetheless I still introduced myself, explained my project. They then proceeded to roast me on a spit with an apple in my mouth and a head of garlic up my ass.

This wasn't my first panel critique. I had one at my old school too and that one went well. They commented on the things they thought were successful, parts that could be improved, ways I could go about it, artists I should look at. That wasn't what happened here. They just bombarded me with the most unproductive unhelpful comments. "Why should I care? What is supposed to make me want to interact with it? There's nowhere for me to sit. (Are you too good to sit on the fucking ground? That's part of the whole experience. Kids don't give a fuck about where they sit.) I'm just not really feeling it. There's nothing to pull the viewer in. I don't know anyone in the pictures so why should I even want to look at what's on the CDs?" They didn't even give me time to respond they just kept shooting daggers at me over and over and over. I'm someone who takes critique well and am even eager to hear it and see where I can improve but this was literally nothingburger. They didn't propose any possible solutions. They just scolded me, infantilized me. The nail in the fucking coffin was when this pompous ass photography teacher had the gull to say that I'm "narcissistic" for making work about MY childhood memories and assuming other people could relate to it. What???? WHAT???? It was so insanely fucking out of pocket. A) Every artist has to be a little narcissistic to assume anyone would want to partake in anything they make B) Assumption? Was it not an accurate assumption to make? When I sat there with my peers and one of them told me they felt like they were gonna cry because they felt like the piece was about them? That they felt relieved?

The worst part of all of this... They judged all this by just the appearance alone. They didn't even take the time to listen to a single fucking CD. To even touch the plush, the art. "You should experiment with unexpected materials. I already know what plush feels like so why would I want to touch it? It's a familiar material." Are you thick in the fucking head? That's the ENTIRE POINT. ITS A CONSCIOUS MATERIAL CHOICE. I chose plush fabric because it's soft and comforting and FAMILIAR. Then they critique it for being too "sunshine and rainbows." "I'm not saying it needs to be grim but it's just too opaque."

And to cap it all off they ask me if I have any questions. What questions could I even ask these people? They inadvertently gave brutal answers to questions I already had. So I said: "Oh no, not really. You pretty much answered them. I was mostly going to ask about methods of installation and ways that would encourage an audience to interact with a work." Oh and what does this pompous asshole say? "You shouldn't even be thinking about that. You're not there yet. You still have a lot more work to do." Who the hell even are you hello? This compounded with them not being satisfied with my answer to their question about artists that inspire me. I told them most of my inspiration for this work came from people in my personal life. "You need to research artists. You're here to learn their methods." Bold of you to assume why I'm here. Bold of you to also assume I didn't research artists in this class about RESEARCHING. So I rattle off the artists I looked at this semester. "Well that's not really plush. Well they're not really looking at nostalgia." Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You can't call my work opaque then discourage me from researching artists that are not EXACTLY aligned with my "opaque" work. Then they started talking about how I should focus more on maybe making work that is a personal archive (what the fuck else am I doing? you just said that was narcissistic? I'm so fucking confused) and I brought up an artist I had seen in gallery last term and they were all oh yeah I saw their work they really build a personal archive bla blah blah. She puts clippings from her life in binders. I put clippings of my life in CDs. Maybe it's more acceptable for her because she's a professional artist in a gallery and I'm a student being treated like a stupid idiot baby. Maybe it's because she just has more stuff to present. Multiple binders full. I'm 25 she's fucking 40something. She's had time to collect. Also this project spanned the scope of ONE term. Materials are also EXPENSIVE. CDs aren't cheap anymore. I don't know. It all just wasn't helpful and it didn't do anything for me except tear me down and make me feel discouraged.

Art is the only thing that has stuck for me after high school. I tried to do science, I tried to do med, I tried to do nursing but I couldn't force myself. If I had literally anything else going for me I'd drop out of art school after that fucking panel. I feel ripped to shreds.

I saw my favourite teacher right before too and she was so excited for me and she even asked me to email her pictures and everything after but I couldn't even bring myself to do that.

I have so much work left for the end of semester and it's so hard to do anything now. I just want to be left alone to sulk.

I haven't cried in a long time. Definitely not like this since I was in high school.

[tinaotaku]

yandere muzan with a cold natured daughter? like she’s cold all the time always shivering

No one POV

"I need more blankets,"

"No, you have 3 of them right now,"

"But I'm freezing right here!" You cried in sadness.

"No means no, (Y/n)," Akaza replied as he sighed. Pinching his nose, he said, "This is ridiculous! How can Douma deal with you every single day?"

"Well, I can't control the weather, Akaza! It's so cold right now I could freeze like an ice cube!"

"(Y/n), it's freaking summer right now. SUMMER! It was supposed to be HOT! Even in the evening you still can feel the heat!" Akaza groaned before walking backward. "You know what?"

"... What?"

"I gave up,"

"Wait-"

***

And that's how you got another demon quits being your babysitter.

Well, it's not entirely your fault. Ever since you were born, you did nothing but shiver in coldness. Everything felt cold to you. You need more layers of clothing than people do and can't stand being in the wild. Walking outside your room is an impossible thing to do, and do not mention the outer world. You have no intention of dying to coldness (literally) and prefer to stay inside.

Nonetheless, walking outside your room is a big no-no.

Well, it can be a bit boring in here. The room is spacious and filled with different entertainments, yet spending more than a century here can make you bored.

You grumbled under your breath before pulling your blankets and covering yourself like a cocoon.

"Ah... it's so cold," you sighed. Pulling your knees to your chest, you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Muzan POV

I opened the door as I brought another thick blanket to my daughter. "Dear, would you like another- oh," I gasped as I saw my daughter being a cute tiny little ball, sleeping beneath all of that blankets. I said this and won't hesitate to say it again, "My daughter is the cutest in this world!" Soon, my expression turned into a smile with imaginary hearts floating around my face.

Yep, you guessed it.

The strongest demon alive; aka Kibutsuji Muzan; is a simp for my daughter. (Don't worry it is a platonic kind of love)

Softly, I walked to my daughter, trying not to wake her up. She can be very scary but that story is for another time. With one swift, I throw the thickest blanket I could find and put it on top of her. It was faint, but I can hear her purred in happiness.

Though I still have a lot of things to do, I decided to kneel beside her bed and look into my own daughter's 'fortress' As I closed my eyes, I still remember how small she is when she was born. Tiny arms and plump cheeks are not what I noticed at first, but her coldness.

When I first touched her, she was as cold as ice. I swore I could mistake her as a dead baby. If it wasn't for her short breathing and gasping, I would kill her right there. I remember being lost and confused. A cold baby has no use for the great demon as me. My ego clouded my mind and I was so ready to end her short life. Then, a voice came. It told me to hug her.

Hugging a cold-ass baby? It was a no from me.

"Come on, don't you want to feel it?" The voice urged me.

"It may be a new experience for you!"

"Look how tiny she is. I reckon you will like it,"

Then, I did hug her.

It was awkward to hug a cold baby. As I held her head against my heart, she moved her fat cheek, trying to find a comfortable position. Then, I heard something that I swore that they would not come back.

My heartbeat.

It beats on a peculiar rhythm. Fast and certainly deafening my ears. Everything seems overwhelming now. Tears flew from my eyes as I put her a bit closer.

I dislike this feeling.

I don't want to feel weak, yet this cold baby made me cry.

Why?

Why am I feeling this?

Do I love you?

But you are nothing but a tool for me.

Can I love you?

My journey was filled with blood and I took the life of those who were innocent.

Are you sure you could accept me for who I am?

I wanted to kill you and leave all of this mess.

But you are too cute.

Adorable and vulnerable.

Small yet weak.

Will you follow me until the day I die?

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, you will.

You are my daughter, perfect for the almighty me.

Isn't it a tradition for daughters to follow their dad?

I'll make sure your life is filled with nothing but me and ONLY M E.

I made an oath that I will protect my daughter until the day I die. Don't look at me like that. It was necessary to protect my child from all sorts of problems, right? Obstacles such as friendship, relationships, and enemies are nothing. Why would my daughter hurt herself for this kind of nonsense?

All you need is me, (Y/n).

M E.

No one POV

"Daddy, are you here?" I asked as I rub my eyes. I still can feel the blankets around me which is fine. However, the blankets seem a bit heavier than I remember. Oh, it wasn't my problem at all.

"Oh dear, are you awake? Would you like to have a glass of water or would you like to take a bath? I'll make sure to have Daki accompany you,"

A small yawn escaped from my lips as I changed my sleeping position. "No, I'm still sleepy, *yawn* Why are you here anyway?"

"Akaza told me that you lacked a blanket. Therefore I decided to bring you another. Do you like it?"

"Yes, I liked it. It was warmer than before. Thank you, daddy,"

Muzan chuckled as he replied, "Your welcome, dear. I'll leave you to have a good night's sleep, ok? I'll be in my lab for a couple of days, so don't worry about me,"

Muzan gently stood up from his seat. No matter how much he'd like to stay and spoiled her to death, he knew that responsibility comes first. Moreover, he respected his daughter's wishes, but before he could leave, you whispered, "Could you please accompany me? I missed you, daddy,"

It doesn't take 5 seconds for him to be at your side. As fast as lightning, you can find him inside your thick blankets. His arms gently warped around you, and he snuggled into your shoulder. "It's so warm, daddy. It doesn't feel that cold anymore,"

A low chuckled can be heard from your back.

"It's because I'm here, baby. I'm always here,"

[notnctu]

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 

READ NEXT PART

Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

READ NEXT PART

[nemilemy]

I saw your reader braiding/playing with the akatsuki and I loved it I was wondering if you could do it for undead? Please and thank you :)

HECK YEAHHH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST FOR UNDEAD YAHOOOO (Please ignore me and my love for Undead their music is my life)

“Rei Sakuma”

🦇. If you start playing/braiding with Rei's hair in public buckle up for the tease and compliment. But nonetheless Rei would enjoy it. But he would prefer you doing this when you guys sleep in his coffin it's more comfy there!

🦇. “Hm? Is my hair so tangled that you're touching it?”

🦇. In private he tells you to play with his hair when sleeping it helps him to sleep easier he says but honestly with you he can always sleep so easily it's almost as if you have a spell on him! ( He'll be speaking to Natsume later about this ✌️)

🦇. You playing/braiding his hair while he sleeps is like heaven to him! It's just so comforting but hey remember not to pull hard or when he does this to you he'll return the gesture!

🦇. Sometimes he returns the favor and plays (if short)/ braids (or any hairstyle if long) your hair. He even adds some accessories to make you look even more pretty! But let's be honest here you guys are too pretty already it won't work!!

“Kaoru Hakaze”

🌹. You playing with his hair wether public or private? One word H E A V E N!! He loves you so much and you playing with his hair makes him go to Cloud 9. If you shower him with some compliments when playing with hair he would be in knees for you. Even if he gets used to it , it's still heaven to him. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

🌹. “Hey don't take back your hand now who told you to take it back keep playing with my hair it's so relaxing!!”

🌹. In private if you play with his hair while cuddling with him he would go bonkers and just come more closer to you for you to play more. In the end when he insists to become the bigger spoon he becomes the small spoon so cute~!

🌹. If you ever play with his hair when he gets a nightmare he slowly relaxes and doesn't have much of a worry because he knows that you're still by his side and he loves you for that!!

🌹. Reminder you're not the only one with hands Kaoru would also do this to you when you to have fallen asleep on his lap or shoulder. He just can't help it because you're so cute like that! Sometimes if you have a breakdown he'll say comfort words and stroke your hair to calm you down. Such a nice boyfriend!

“Koga Oogami”

🐺. Whenever you pat , stroke or play with Koga's hair he enjoys it very much but being the tsundere he is he obviously won't admit it~ if you say "good boy" when playing with his hair you can see his mood change and his imaginary tail wag from joy~!

🐺. “just because i seem like i don't like it doesn't mean you stop idiot...”

🐺. When in private if you play with his hair he'll hug you by the hips hiding his blushing face even though you've seen it alot , he just doesn't want you to see~! He'd grumble about it but nothing negative ofc he enjoys your touch~

🐺. Play with his hair when sleeping and you won't get out of his embrace again~! If you're going to play with his hair atleast let him cuddle with you to enjoy it more. He should also be enjoying yanno don't be so stingy producer~

🐺. Btw you should already expect Koga waiting for you to play with his hair after you already spoiled him with your affection~! And you won't be the only one spoiling don't worry Koga has so many ideas to spoil you just wait and see Producer MUAHAHAHHAHA

“Adonis Otogari”

💜. Someone playing with his hair is very new to him he has so many questions one, how should he feel about this?? Two, why does it feel so good!?

💜. “If you enjoy this then I'll be fine.”

💜. When Private you can see Adonis actually becoming more relaxed and cheesy about this. The both of you tell each other compliments when doing so! So cute~!

💜.But you love birds should really get a room, Koga once accidentally entered when you were playing with Adonis's hair on his lap with him holding your hip as the both of your faces got closer then “EW DO IT SOMEWHERE ELSE YOU LOVE BIRDS!!!” that's when you guys knew you had to do it in places that don't have much people coming and going because single people. ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ

💜. By now since Adonis has gotten used to this treatment he makes sure to return the treatment by gifts and such. He once ordered a gift for you online. It turned out to be a very small gift then he expected never trusting electronics ever again he says. Better comfort poor Adonis xD

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

I hoped you enjoyed this dear anon! I hope this was of your expectations and that you liked it and for the rest don't worry I'm writing the requests! Ignore me editting this alot-

[sideblogformindtrash]

Cw: emotional abuse, pet whump, parental abuse mentioned, past abuse, verbal abuse, whumpee turned whumper

For info, pumpkin person name is June

Living with this new companion was a bit awkward. He almost regretted bringing him home, because despite how lonely it was before, and the fact that having the pet around did help a lot with that, it still felt… wrong.

Especially with how much of a shadow he was. The pet was very quiet and swift in all his movements, trying to go unnoticed, almost as part of the house. 

More than once had that quietness startled June, and resulted in him screaming at the pet. He couldn't deny it was very satisfying to watch him flinch, kneel down and apologize heavily, while June berated him. 

He also took a liking to repeating certain things that made him sick, when he was younger. 

This was pain buried much deeper than his time with Sean, that seemed pale in comparison, coming from the ragged edges of his childhood. 

He placed the groceries down hard on the table, walked with hard steps, closed doors a bit too harshly, and watched the pet finch and crawl and hide like he used to. 

Or course the pet had been heavily trained, on one of those sick mind breaking facilities, so it did not dare cope the way he used to, and June was sure that only made the fear grow.

He used to hide inside a wardrobe or under the bed whenever he heard those heavy steps, the arguments, the breaking of glass.

The pet did not have such luxury. It could not hide and had to stand and watch, perfectly still, as June purposefully attempted to trigger it. 

And seeing him curl up, unable to truly hide, was both satisfying and aggravating. 

It meant that the pet was just as he was… broken. Small. Scared. 

It was good to know he was not alone. That much less was enough to reduce someone else to said state.

It was also painful to see himself reflected on that, and made him need, so much more, to create a distant between him and the pet. 

Between now… and who he used to be. His years of Pumpkin were over, over over, and being in control now helped him put that behind him.

Until it didn't, of course, and he inevitably broke down. 

The pet would then rush to his side, doing all in his power to bring comfort for his 'master'. 

And pumpkin, through his dazed panic, would see Sean in every face, reflection, and shadow. 

Suddenly the panic was too much to keep food on his stomach or prevent the tears from falling, just like his tongue would be lose and then he would beg for mercy to anyone there to listen, imaginary or real.

And now… with his new companion always close by, this meant it was he that heard the pleas. 

And June hated hated hated knowing that even if just for a moment, their roles reversed again and he looked at the pet as if it was a master, and the pet could see, clear as day, that his owner was just a broken thing. 

And that's when the urge got stronger, and he felt like he could break that pet with his own hands.

He proceeds to scream and insult and humiliate the pet for 'looking down on him'. He refused to accept that what those doe eyes had was just… worry. 

It felt like a mockery nonetheless. It felt unacceptable. 

Then things calmed down and June would sob, and sometimes, apologize. He recognized pain and tried to fix it, and the pet forgave him every single time. 

And then it looped back to the start, with breaking glass, and heavy steps, and beating doors too harshly, and grunting and staring downs. If Sean had been an artist with hammer and nail sculpting marble onto a perfect form, June was but wind eroding a rock.

There were calm days but it was pointless, nonstop and as natural as breathing, through days and days creating a shape of what was beneath, a shape that was meaningless, formless, and entirely unique marked by thousands of days of soft pain. 

[ba-katsuki]

Can You Keep a Secret?

Can You Keep a Secret?

Collaboration with @httptamaki​

Bakugou x Female!Reader

Synopsis: Bakugou and you have been dating each other for months now, unknown to your friends and classmates. Both of you were new to this whole relationship thing and decided to keep things lowkey at the start. However, as time goes on, the teasing intensifies and with Bakugou's competitive nature, it soon turned into a game. Who can keep a secret, and who is going to expose it all?

a/n – I wrote this in one seating at 3 in the morning so if some parts don't make much sense, I am terribly sorry.

Warnings: 18+ (minors DO NOT interact, NSFW), slight footjob, dirty talk, minor degradation, slight choking, sloppy blowjob, swallowing/cum eating, risky public sex, creampie, unprotected sex

*while the story takes place in school still, i wrote it with 18+ year old/final year Bakugou in mind!!!

~~~~

With shaking hands, you shove the spoon of rice into your mouth and chewed, praying that the people surrounding you, your close friends and classmates, did not catch the look of ecstasy that momentarily passed your face. The handsome ash-blonde opposite you flash you a cocky grin with a mischievous glint in his eye, as he pressed his sock-clad foot deeper between your thighs. His big toe rubbed harsh circles on your sensitive clit, your arousal staining your panties and his socks. Bakugou jerked his leg under the table, pretending to be shifting in his seat, his big toe pushing into your entrance suddenly. You let out a surprised squeak as your toe curl. Suddenly aware of the curious eyes on you, you let out a series of coughs and pat aggressively at your chest, pretending to have accidentally choked on your food.

"I think… the rice… went down the…wrong hole…" you said between coughs as you reach for your iced drink, hoping your friends bought the act and that the coldness of the drink was cool down the heat in your face.

"jeez y/n slow down! There's still 15 minutes of lunch left to go," Mina laughs at you as she reaches over to pat your back.

"thank god." You muttered under your breath as you took another gulp of your drink. You sent a glare towards your annoying boyfriend opposite you, whose foot is still on your clothed pussy, by the way, shamelessly rubbing against you. He returns your glare with a smug look, leaning back into the seat and resting his right arm on the chair, which just annoys you even further. You couldn't remember that last time you had a peaceful lunch with Bakugou around these past few weeks. He was always teasing you under the table, whether with his hands or his leg. You had been able to hold in it with relatively minimal problem the previous times but for some reason, he was especially aggressive and pushy today. Literally.

You and Bakugou have been dating for a couple of months now, which honestly comes as a surprise to you. If someone had told you that you and Bakugou would become a couple when you first started thirsting and crushing on him, you have laughed in their face. I mean, just look at him. He was so utterly committed to becoming the number 1 pro hero that you didn't think he would indulge himself in something so trivial like a relationship. And he didn't help that he was calling you a dumbass or an extra or some other mean names every five seconds. So you settled for a one-sided crush. It was going well, quietly crushing on him from the sidelines, until one heated argument. You knew Bakugou was a massive tsundere, always saying brash and demeaning things even if he doesn't mean it, but that day you were just out of it. You were falling behind the class, training went terrible for you and you were exhausted and so beaten. Bakugou saw you training alone in the woods and decides to approach you with his loud mouth. You snapped and Bakugou, not backing down from the argument, argued back. Amid the argument, an argument which you honestly can't even remember that well down because of what happened next, you blurted out your feelings for him. It took him aback and you were expecting him to ridicule you or reject you harshly, something you cannot handle then and so you walked away. What you didn't expect was for Bakugou to grab you and smashed his lips onto yours.

That marked the very dramatic and surprising start of your relationship. Both you and Bakugou were very new to this whole dating thing and with Bakugou's pride, you guys decided to keep things lowkey and not let other people know about the relationship. Bakugou would "rather die than have raccoon eyes and dunce face be all up in his face", you quote.

From secret hand-holding between classes and the late-night cuddling sessions at either one of your rooms, the whole lowkey relationship was going amazing. Both of you enjoyed the adrenaline that came with keeping your relationship a secret and sneaking moments of affection and intimacy in front of your friends. Your relationship progressed fast and soon, both of you had passed all imaginary bases. You were so happy in the relationship, even with all the hiding and secrecy. But then…Bakugou decides to take it a step further. Hand holding between classes became ass grabbing. He would slip his hand under your skirt whenever the opportunity arises and grab smack your plump ass or grab that. He would corner you in the locker room and make out with you, grinding his bulge against you or tease your pussy during lunch. He was obviously winding you up, challenging you, trying to see if you will be the one to expose the relationship. Being less competitive, you did not immediately take on his challenge and even after you did, you seldom retaliate.

But, today is a different story.

You've had enough of his teasing and you pushed his leg away with your hands. He raised an eyebrow at you as he set his foot back onto his shoe. He brings his drink up to his lips as he takes a sip, his eyes watching you from behind the cup like a hawk, his mind plotting your punishment. You pulled your chair towards the table and slipped the shoe off your right foot. Leaning forward like he did, you reach your right leg forward towards Bakugou and pressed the length of your foot against his crotch. His eyes widen, obviously not expecting you to return the teasing, and he almost spits his drink out. Oh, how you would love to see him actually spit out his drink all flustered, losing his composure in front of the squad but he held himself back with his insane reflexes. He was already semi-hard from teasing you. You curled your toes around the shape of his dick and dragged your foot down his length slowly, feeling his dick harden against your toes and the way he lids closed slightly. You pressed your foot harder into him as you reach the base of his length, where his balls are probably full of lust and cum. You rubbed circles with your big toes against his balls, where you knew he was extremely sensitive especially when he is hard and turned on, and you watch as he breathed in sharply through his nose, letting out a soft hiss that was easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. You dragged your feet up his length again, this time much faster, and then back down. You've never given him a footjob before but damn, this is hot, and you pressed your thighs together, trying to create some friction.

You almost, ALMOST, forgot about your surroundings until you heard the bell ring and your friends around you move. You drop your feet almost immediately and sat up, alarmed. You glance in the direction of your friends. Kirishima and Denki were still engaged in conversation as they got up from their seats with their trays in hand and Sero was laughing at something Mina said. You let out a breath of relief.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Mina questions when she saw that you were still frozen in your seat. "Lunch break is over and we better leave. Don't wanna be late for sparring class next," she shudders as she remembers the glare Aizawa sensei gave her the last time she was late.

"oh..right…sorry I was uhm…" you stuttered as you pushed your chair out and grab your tray. Bakugou had already walked away, a little funny you noticed, probably due to the huge boner he has in his pants. You would have laughed but the adrenaline you felt was numbing you.

"Are you fantasizing about some anime boy again, y/n?" Mina laughs as she jokingly slaps your back. "How are you gonna find a real-life boyfriend like that?"

You laughed. The truth cannot be further away. If only she knew what was going on under the table between you and Bakugou, your boyfriend.

As you walk to the locker rooms with the Bakusquad, engaging in light conversations with Mina, you refuse you even glance in the direction of Bakugou. You could feel his intense glare at the side of your head and the tension emitting from him. He excused himself to the bathroom halfway through and you felt your shoulders dropped unconsciously. The sexual tension between you two was insane and it's a wonder how the squad haven't sensed anything yet. Not having your boyfriend staring intensely at you was a relief but at the same time, just the thought of him jerking himself off in the bathroom makes your core clench.

~~~~

You praised the lord as you packed up your hero costume in the locker room, changing into a normal t-shirt and comfortable shorts. Sparring class went on smoothly and you were not paired with Bakugou a single time. You don't know how you would have handled sparring with him after that whole lunch situation. You grabbed your towel and walked out of the quiet locker room. The girls had already left, and so had the boys. You decided to stay behind to do some additional solo quirk training in the gym and you were extremely thankful that Bakugou had been dragged away by Kirishima for some sparring. Bakugou reappeared in class in his hero costume, a tad later than the rest of class, but still on time nonetheless. The moment he walked in, his eyes latched onto you. You were in a conversation with Kirishima and Denki, and Bakugou did not seem happy about that as his eyebrows lowered and tensed up, his lips curled inward into a scowl. Bakugou was fine with you hanging out with them, they were as much your friends as they are his (even if he always tries to deny it), but he did have a possessive streak in him. Especially when he has been all riled up like that. You thought he was going to burn holes into your head with his intense stare but thankfully, Midoriya approached him and he proceeded to yell his head off at him.

Gosh, you are going to be in so much trouble tonight. This is why you rarely retaliate. Bakugou is an immense sore loser and extremely competitive, and he would always return the favour in double fold.

The gym lights were already dimmed by the time you walked out of the locker room. You ponder about ways to appease Bakugou later tonight, hoping he will not torture and tease you too much. Your thoughts were cut short when a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pinning you to the cold and hard gym wall. Your items clatter to the ground, the noise echoing in the vast empty gym. A large muscular thigh parted your legs and pressed up against your core as another hand grabbed hold of your throat and squeezed.

"Aren't you getting bold, babygirl?" he growls, his warm breath hitting your cheeks.

"Katsuki…" you gasped as he gave your throat another squeeze.

"That was hella difficult to take care of ya know," he spat angrily as he grinds the top of his knees harshly you. You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs and your legs were turning into jelly. He pulls your head towards him and captured your bottom lip in a harsh bite. You moaned at his assault.

"You…you started it…uhhh," you moaned as he pushed his thigh up higher into you, his forehead pressed against yours, "…started it first…uhhh…'tsuki."

The corner of his lips quirks up into a threatening smirk. His hand frees your wrist and moves to grab your leg, lifting it from the ground and hooking it around it waist. His hand trails from your calf to your thigh slowly, raking his short fingernails along your skin. The hand around your throat squeezed harder, pressing you harder into the wall. You gasped for air, your eyes rolling back in pleasure and your hands fisting tightly in his black tank top.

"You were the one that didn't stop me babygirl," his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. He relaxes his hand from your throat and grabs your chin instead, pulling your head towards him as he envelops your lips in a deep kiss. His lips move passionately against yours, full of lust, as his knee continues its assault. Your leg was losing strength as you start to slide down the smooth wall. Removing his hands from your chin, he moves to lift your other leg from the ground to his waist. You hook your legs around him, pulling him closer to you with your lips moving frantically against his. He lifts your body from under your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

"Katsuki…" you whisper between kisses.

"You feel so good baby," Bakugou murmurs, gripping the flesh of your thighs tighter.

Another moan erupts from your lips and Bakugou wastes no time in slipping his tongue into you. Your tongues swirl together, Bakugou's tongue dominating yours. He rakes his fingers down the curve of your thighs to your ass, slipping under your shorts and palming your cheeks.

"Fuck babygirl," he groans between kisses, "your ass feels so good."

"Katsuki please" you begged, pressing yourself against his huge bulge and grinding desperately. Your pussy is overflowing with arousal, soaking through your panties and shorts, and you ache for any form of friction against that sensitive bud.

"Nuh uh baby," Bakugou teases as he takes a small step back, leaving a gap between the two of you, "you don't get to cum so easily after what you did to me just now."

You whine, trying to push his lower body forwards with your legs.

Bakugou leans his torso forwards and whispered next to your ear, "You'll have to earn it baby."

He forcefully tugs your body towards his, lifting you away from the wall, and starts walking to the male locker room. His lips latch onto the sweet spot just between your earlobe, leaving a red blotchy hickey. He licks along your jawline as you tilt your head back in pleasure. Your hands snake up to the back of his head, grasping his ash blonde hair between your fingers, maneuvering his head towards your throat. He obliged, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your neck as he sets you down on the metal bench, the coldness stinging your thighs.

Bakugou unwraps himself from you and stood up straight, towering over you. You looked up at him all dazed, mouth slightly open, your lips glistening with saliva. You leaned back on the bench, your elbows supporting your weight as you instinctively spread your legs apart.

But, to your dismay, Bakugou did not move to touch you or appreciate your arousal like he normally would. All he did was palm his bulge, looking down at you with a cocky mischievous smirk plastered on his face.

"Strip for me y/n," he commands, his voice low and husky with lust.

You gulped. Shaking, your hands reach for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head slowly. You then reach for your shorts, bending down to pull them off.

"And look at me while you do it."

You tilt your head up, your eyes meeting his vermillion ones. Heat creeps up your cheek as you drop your short on the floor. Sure, you've been intimate with Bakugou many times and he has seen you naked before. But you've never stripped for him this way, no. Much less in a public place like this.

You unhook your bra and slides it off your shoulders. Your nipples harden as the cold air touches your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Bakugou glanced down at your pebbled nipples and shameless licked his lips. Your hand subconsciously moves to grab your breast, appreciating the warmth of your hand but it only lasted a second as Bakugou rips your hand away.

"You're not done babygirl," he sneers, "and I don't remember saying you can touch yourself."

You bite your lips to keep the whimper from escaping, knowing that will only egg him on even more. You lift your hips and slides your soaked panties down your legs and steps out of it. You sat back down on the bench as you watch Bakugou take in every inch of your exposed skin, appreciating every curve and roll on your body.

"Open up y/n. Let me see that sweet pussy."

You parted your thighs, the inner flesh glistening with your juices and your pussy clenched at the coldness.

"So wet babygirl," Bakugou hums as he licks his lips once more, "can't wait to get fucked huh?"

You nod and parted your legs even further, hoping Bakugou will take it as an invitation to, finally, touch and please you. But he didn't, again.

"Get on your knees babygirl," he commands as he tugs his sweatpants and let them fall to the ground. His cock was pressing against the tight fabric of his boxers and you could spot the delicious thick vein that ran along his shaft.

You kneeled obediently in front of him, mouth watering with anticipation at the sight of his hard cock, as you look at him through your eyelashes. He steps towards you, his cock pressed against your face. You felt wetness on your nose bridge as you inhaled the slightly musky scent of his precum.

You palmed his cock, rubbing him through his boxers. You stretch out your tongue and pressed it to the wet spot on his boxers, tasting his precum, before bringing the fabric into your mouth and sucked it.

You played with the hem of your boxers, a cheeky grin on your face, and pulled, releasing Bakugou from his boxers. His cock sprang free and hits you on your face. Gosh, he was so big. His cock was almost the length of your face, with a good girth. This man really was blessed with everything. You wrap your hands around the base of his shaft and pumped gently. You swirl your tongue around his flushed tip, lapping at the precum that continues to ooze out of him.

"Don't tease me," he groans and fists his large hands into your hair. He pushes your head forward harshly, forcing his aching cock between your lips and into your warm wet mouth. Taken aback, you lost your balance and fell forward slightly. The tip of his cock pressed into the back of your throat as you gag around him. Your hands found stability on his muscled thighs as you dug your fingernails into them. He jerks his hips forward rapidly, fucking your face as saliva dribbles down your chin and your eyes watering.

"Fuck your mouth feels so good y/n. Fuckkk…look at you taking my cock so good. You're such a slut for my cock aren't you?"

You could only hum in response with your mouth stuffed full of his throbbing cock, pounding into you at a crazy pace. His balls slap your chin with each thrust, sending saliva dripping down your neck and chest, creating a wet and sticky mess.

"Fuckkkkkk y/n I'm gonna cum soon," Bakugou moans as he proceeds to push your head further down his cock, thrusting faster into your mouth. You reach out to squeeze his balls and fondle with them, sending a deep and loud groan echoing in the room.

"FUCKKKK," he heaves as hot thick spurts of cum coats your throat and mouth. He holds your head there for a moment as he empties his load into you, before slowly pulling out his cock, making sure his tip hits your nose.

"Don't swallow yet," Bakugou warns as he leans down and grabs your chin roughly, forcing your mouth open. He admires the mess he made, the white cum pooling at the back of your mouth, your eyes red and watery and decollete area wet with saliva. With a satisfied smirk, loosen his grip on your chin, and asked you to swallow.

You gulp his cum down, making sure to look him dead in the eye as you do so, knowing it turns him on. Despite the cold air, your body was covered in sweat and your pussy was hot and throbbing excruciatingly.

"Please Katsuki please."

"What do you want, babygirl?" He pools the saliva on your decollete into his palm and wraps it around his semi-hard cock, pumping it right in front of you, knowing EXACTLY what you want.

"Fuck me Katsuki please," you beg as you press your thighs tightly together, trying to ease the throb, "I want you in my pussy Katsuki please."

"Get your ass on the bench then."

You waste no time in climbing onto the bench, leaning backwards with your elbows supporting your weight and spreading your legs apart as part as you could. The cold air against the heat of your pussy sends a chill down your spine as you let out a soft moan.

Bakugou lifts your legs off the ground from your calf and rests them on his broad shoulders. He bent his knees, positioning his now hard cock at your throbbing entrance. He teases your clit with his tip before slapping his shaft on your pussy.

"Ready for me cock baby?"

"Uh huh," you nod eagerly.

In one smooth thrust, he enters you and fills you up completely. The sudden fullness wrecks a gasp out between your lips as your head tilts back in ecstasy. You have been waiting for this moment ever since he was teased you during lunch break.

"Fuckkkkkk," Bakugou draws out as he enters you, feeling your muscles clench around him.

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before pounding into that pussy of yours. Your elbows gave out as your back hits the cold metal bench. The metal bench creaks under all that movement as Bakugou fucks you mercilessly, letting out all the frustration he felt from earlier.

"You feel so fucking good around my cock baby," he praises as he stops and adjusts himself, causing you to whine at the sudden halt. But before you could even fully, he is thrusting in again. This time, his tip hits against your sensitive g-spot with each movement.

"Holy shit Katsuki! Fuck! Ahhh right there baby right there fuck it feels so good."

Placing his hands firm on either side of you, he pushes you into a mating press, pounding into you and pleasuring your g-spot with each thrust. You wrap your hands around his neck and brings him in for a heated kiss, moaning shamelessly into his mouth.

"Fuck Katsuki I'm gonna…"

"Hey is this y/n's bag?" a familiar voice question from outside the locker room.

Both you and Bakugou went immediately still as panic looms over you.

"I think so but what is it doing here?" Kirishima replies as their footstep echoes in the locker room.

"Don't know maybe she just forgot," Denki says, "like how I always forget my shit too."

The footsteps got closer and with his fast reflexes, Bakugou grabs you and shoves you into one of the lockers. Thankfully, he did not make that much of a sound but it was no ninja stealth either and you pray under your breath that Kirishima and Denki won't linger and potentially catch you guys in this compromising position.

"Wait," Kaminari stops in his tracks, obviously spooked by the subtle noise you guys made, "did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I swear I heard one of the locker doors close."

"Ohhh there's no one in here," Kirishima reassure with a yawn, "now hurry and found your bottle. I am so exhausted."

Their voices seem to linger at the entrance of the locker room and you let out a tiny sigh of relief. But this relief was short-lived when Bakugou slides his cock into you.

You let out a gasp and your hands flew to your mouth immediately. You turned your head and glared at Bakugou, sending him a warning through your eyes. Bakugou, being the jerk he is, of course, just gives you a cocky smirk, barely visible in the dim lighting and presses his chest along the length of your back. Grabbing your hips, he starts to thrust into you from behind, careful not to hit any of the metal walls.

The chatter between Kirishima and Kaminari continues but you can barely process what they were saying. Your mind was blank with pleasure as Bakugou reaches down with one of his hands and rubs your clit. A moan escapes from your lips and you bit down on your lips, Bakugou squeezing the plump flesh on your hips as a warning.

"Woah Kirishima please tell me you heard that?"

You didn't hear Kirishima's response as you felt a warm breath tickle your ear.

"Better keep that cute little voice of yours down or Shitty hair and Dunce Face are gonna find out what a slut you are," he whispers harshly into your ear.

You clamp down on your fingers, trying to mute your whines and moans as much as possible, as Bakugou increases his pace. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, muting his groans as your walls clench tightly around his cock. He pinches your clit and you let a squeak at the pain and pleasure.

For someone who just told you to be quiet, he is trying awfully hard to make you lose control. You covered your mouth with your hands, mortified that you let that sound out as Bakugou growls teasingly at you.

"Uhhhh…I think we better leave now Kirishima…" Kaminari stutters, "I found… uhhh… I found my bottle." "Yeah…let's uhm let's go."

To your utter relief, the boys left the locker room in a hurry and you finally let out the sounds of pleasure you have been painstakingly trying to hold back. The moment their footsteps could not be heard, Bakugou slams the locker door open and walks you out, his cock still buried deep in your cunt. Your legs could barely move and support and weight, and you fell forward onto the bench, hands gripping the metal hard.

"F-Fuck Katsuki!"

"Such a little slut huh? Can't even keep your little mouth shut in there. You wanted those extras to know how hard I'm fucking you, didn't you? You little slut fuckkkkk you are tight baby you feel so good…"

Placing his hand flat on the square of your back, he pushes you down as you both land on your knees, your torso flat against the metal bench. Your hard nipples rub against the cold metal, sending another wave of pleasure through your body as the coil in your pelvis tightens. Coupled with Bakugou's fingers rubbing your swollen clit and his thick cock practically bruising your g-spot, your climax was hitting you hard and fast.

"Fuckkkk 'tsuki I'm gonna ahh fuck…Katuski I'm gonna cummm."

"Fuck I feel it babygirl. You are clenching me so fucking hard shit," he cusses as he grips the soft flesh of your ass cheek with one hand, "gonna cum baby?"

"uh huhhh," you nod weakly, your mind blank with pleasure.

He leans forward, pressing his front along the curve of your back and pounds into you from behind.

"Fuck I'm close to baby."

"C-cum inside me Katsuki please."

"Fuck you want my cum inside you y/n? yeah? Fuckkk I'm cumming baby!"

With a few final thrust, the tension inside you releases. Your legs were shaking from stimulation, toes curling and back arching from your climax. Your pussy clenches tight around Bakugou's cock as he cums inside you, his thick cum filling up your cunt.

Slowly catching his breath, he slowly pulls his cock out of you and you feel his cum drips down your clit, overflowing.

"Fuck y/n," he draws out, "your pussy looks so good all stuffed with my cum."

He spreads your lips apart, admiring his handiwork as his cum, mixed with yours, continues to spill out of you. He dips his finger into your pussy, pushing out more cum, coating his finger in the mess created. He swipes up the trail of cum dripping down your clit with his finger and approaches you.

"Don't let it go to waste now babygirl."

Still catching your breath against the metal bench, he pushes his wet sticky finger into your mouth. You wrap your lips around him and suck eagerly, tasting the muskiness. When you are done, you release his finger with a pop and looked up at his satisfied face. He pulls you up towards him as he sits down, cradling your tired sweaty body in his.

"That felt so good babe," he compliments as he presses a tender kiss to your lips and brushing your hair out of your face, "come on let's get you cleaned up."

He carries you into the shower, washing away all the sweat and stickiness from your body and caresses you gently, making up for all that teasing and hard fucking and mean words. Gosh, he is secretly such a softie and you love him for it.

~~~~

After collecting all your stray clothing and getting dress, Bakugou and you walked back to your rooms together. His softness is gone as he makes fun of the way you are walking, obviously sore from all that fucking you did earlier. You glare at him and pouts, muttering under your breath that it was totally his fault which earned you a little chuckle.

As you entered the TV area, you found Kirishima and Kaminari sitting there, deep in conversation. Heat rushes to your cheeks, as you thought about how close the two of you were to being caught by them. You quickened your steps and walked towards your room, not even bothering to acknowledge them or say goodbye to Bakugou, but you were stopped in your tracks by the redhead's question.

"So…Bakugou and Y/n…" he runs his hands through his flattened hair, a sheepish look on his face as Kaminari elbows him to continue, "how long have the two of you been…you know…together?"

"W-what are you talking about Kirishima? Me and Bakugou are not-"

"We saw your belongings outside the boys' locker room and uhm we saw your clothes uhm on the floor and uhm you guys weren't exactly being quiet in there…"

"yeah especially after you thought we couldn't hear you no more," Kaminari adds under his breath, causing your face to heat up even more. You were sure you looked like a cartoon tomato right now.

"so…if you guys aren't dating then…?"

With a huff, Bakugou walks towards you and grabs your fidgeting hands, "Fine. Me and y/n are dating and we were totally fucking in the locker room and if you two shitty extras even think about muttering a word about this to others, I will blast you to the fucking space ya hear me?!"

He didn't even bother waiting for their replies before dragging you to his room and slamming the door shut.

Your secret is out. Not to the whole class but out nonetheless. You stood there, a little shocked from that confession with too much information, as you watch Bakugou nonchalantly strip out of his clothes and into his sleepwear.

"Katsuki!" you shriek as you slap him on his arm.

"What?!"

"I thought it was supposed to be a secret?! AND YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO STRAIGHT UP TELL THEM WE WERE FUCKING IN THE LOCKER ROOM oh my gosh I'm gonna die of embarrassment! How am I supposed to face them tomorrow?!"

"Stop being so dramatic," he pinches your cheeks and walks to his bed, "There's no point trying to deny or hide it from them anyways. Besides, it's not like the whole class knows."

He lies down and makes himself comfortable before looking at you, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face, "so our game can still continue baby, don't worry."

He pats the empty spot beside him, asking you to join. You rolled your eyes. "That's not what I'm worried about," you said as you tuck yourself into him. "In fact, I would like the game to very much end here."

"Nahh not happening babygirl."

Silence fills the room as both of you starts drifting off to sleep, minds tired and muscles exhausted. You felt your eyes get heavy until a question pops into your mind,

"Katsuki?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does that make you the loser since you exposed our secret?"

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3