#but the world keeps conspiring against me
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artdcnaldson · 6 months ago
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smutty patrick +art +reader request!!!! ->
smut where both patrick &y/n r dominant and are constantly competing against eachother with who makes art cum faster/moan louder LOLâ˜șâ˜șâ˜ș patrick is like a rougher dom and reader is softer and she keeps praising art while patrick IS SUCH A MEANIEEEEE but he also loves art too obv(and reader). UGH i love them
HEHEHEHE <3
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Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT!! Threesome ft. Dom!Patrick, Soft!Dom Reader, Sub!Art, handjob, blowjob, ruined orgasm
A/N: god tier request, truly. something possessed me when I wrote this
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Art Donaldson had never looked prettier than he did in that moment. The thin sheen of sweat that made his skin glisten, the pretty flush that burned pink down to his chest.
His back was pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around him soothingly. It was the perfect angle to watch all the ways Patrick was torturing your sweet boy.
His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath— each exhale shuddery and rough. You pet his hair, brushing soft curls out of his eyes.
“How are you, baby?” You asked softly, teasingly. “Is Patrick being too mean?”
He shook his head, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as Patrick’s hand moved faster and faster. A strangled moan slipped past his lips, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick brought him closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m just doing what he asked,” Patrick said with a grin. The sounds of his hand was slick as it moved up and down on the blond’s cock.. “He wanted me to touch him, and I’m touching him.”
You pressed a soothing kiss to his jaw and grinned down at Patrick. The brunet was a co-conspirator in the agonizing, delicious torture you put Art’s poor body through. You were just nicer about it.
“Close,” Art whimpered, his lips spit slick and bitten pink. “I— fuck— I’m close”
Patrick smirked like the cat who got the cream, but you just ran a soothing hand over the plane of his chest, teasing his nipples, making him whine pitifully.
“Yeah, baby? You’re close, huh?” Your teeth tugged slightly at his earlobe and he moaned, loud and pretty. “Be polite and ask Patrick if you can cum.”
Patrick’s hand didn’t let up— slick and relentless. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and Art nearly sobbed.
“Please—“ was all Art could manage.
“Please, what, Donaldson? You’re a big boy, you know how to ask the right way.”
He groaned, shifting so he could squirm away from Patrick’s relentless touch. It was futile, though. Art was strong, but with your legs pinning his thighs and Patrick’s hand slung across the blond’s torso, all he could do was take it.
“Lemme cum— please let me cum,” he was practically begging, eyes shining with crocodile tears. It was so fucking cute. You wished your camera was nearby so you could’ve snapped a picture of how desperate he’d gotten.
Patrick met your gaze and smiled, like he’d just gotten the best fucking idea in the world. “Okay, baby,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. “You can cum.”
You could feel Art’s heart hammering against your palm, the surprise evident in his eyes.
“Hurry before Pat changes his mind, yeah?” You cooed in his ear. He nodded, face scrunched slightly as Patrick brought him closer and closer to finishing.
And god, Art could get loud. He had his tells here, just like in tennis. As soon as he went silent, you knew he was right on the precipice, ready to tumble over.
The second Art’s orgasm hit, Patrick moved his hand off of him completely. It was different than it usually was— Art was always messy. He’d shoot ropes of thick cum up to his chest, or his face if he was particularly backed up.
But then, he just whimpered pathetically as cum oozed out of his tip, leaving a puddle at the base of his cock. And— holy fuck— he stayed hard.
Art practically sobbed, his head lolling back against your shoulder. Tears of frustration welled in his pretty blue eyes. “What the fuck, Patrick?” He groaned pathetically.
“What the fuck did you do?” You asked with wide eyes.
Patrick sat back and shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin. “I saw someone do it in a porn. He got to cum, he just didn’t get the good part.”
“Switch spots,” you said quickly. Patrick let you settle between Art’s thighs, eye level with his aching cock. It was red at the tip, aching for a real release.
When you wrapped a hand around him, he whimpered and squirmed in an attempt to escape the stimulation.
“You good, baby?” You asked, pressing your lips to his thigh.
Before Art could respond, Patrick sighed. “Stop babying him— he’s fine.”
You met Art’s gaze, and he gave a tiny nod. His chest was heaving as he drew breath after shaky breath.
The mess of cum surrounding his base made each slick pass of your hand sound pornographic. Almost as debauched as the whimpers and moans that were escaping Art’s lips.
“Mmm
 fuck, fuck— ah!” Like a goddamn pornstar.
“Shhh
 let me clean up the mess Patrick made, yeah?”
You pressed a soft kiss to his tip, and his thighs twitched with the need to buck into the warmth of your lips. Your mouth trailed down, peppering the hard length of him with wet, slow kisses. You could taste his release, salty on your tongue.
“Jesus, baby— please—“ Art, desperate and wanting, was your favorite thing in the world. Besides maybe Patrick, desperate and wanting in a completely opposite way.
“Quit whining, Art, or she’s gonna stop.” Patrick murmured in the blond’s ear. You could already see a collection of red spots on Art’s throat that would turn into bruises.
You definitely weren’t going to stop. You loved every single depraved noise you could wring out of him. You took mercy on him, easing his sensitive cock into the wet warmth of your mouth.
You’re too soft on him. He likes when you make him work for it. You could hear Patrick’s complaints already.
It didn’t matter. You liked taking care of your boy.
He pulsed against your tongue as you took him deeper, his thighs tensing where your hands rested against him. He bucked slightly, brushing the back of your throat. When you gagged around him, he made the same whimpery noise that he made on the tennis courts.
“Tell her thank you,” Patrick said in Art’s ear.
You moaned softly around Art’s length as you felt Patrick’s fingers grip onto your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, faster and faster.
“Art, I’ll make her stop. Say thank you.” Patrick’s voice was firm, no trace of any sympathy. The same way he’d bark corrections that Art needed to make when they practiced together.
“Thank you,“ Art gasped out, like it took all the effort in the world. Patrick used his free hand to rake his nails over Art’s abs, and the blond cried out and bucked into your throat. “Fuck—“
You knew he was close to finishing— still so pent up from the orgasm that Patrick had ruined for him. So sensitive that it wouldn’t take much more effort to have him spilling onto your tongue.
You pulled off slowly, jerking him off with slow, firm strokes. “You wanna cum, baby?” You asked, lips just brushing the sensitive head of his cock.
“Yes! God, need t’ cum so bad,” he cried, desperate and aching for release.
“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ greedy, Art,” Patrick goaded. The hand that was in your hair had moved to your cheek, where he stroked along your skin sweetly. “You think you deserve it?”
“Yes, you asshole,” Art groaned. Patrick laughed, a smile spreading across his lips. You raised a brow, looking at the brunet expectantly for permission. He nodded and you smiled.
“Go on, baby, I’ve got you,” you said, hand moving faster. “I won’t be mean, I’ll let you get what you need.”
He cried out as he finished, painting your tongue with thick spurts of cum. You worked him through it, taking every drop he could offer you, until the feeling of your touch became too much.
“Don’t swallow, c’mere,” Patrick said. You joined him at the top of the bed, kissing him deeply, passing Art’s cum between your mouths with slow laves of your tongues against each other.
Art whined, reaching for your faces, wanting you to include him. Patrick leaned down, kissing him deeply, so he could taste the efforts of both of your attentions. You leaned in, tongue brushing Patrick’s, and Art’s, and you felt warmth flutter in your chest.
“You’re too nice to him,” Patrick said after he pulled away. “I would’ve made him beg for it.”
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thank you for readinggggg <3 this was so fun to write đŸ˜đŸ©”
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starryhyuck · 1 year ago
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against all odds. (m)
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pairing: gryffindor!jaehyun x slytherin!afab!reader
words: 13.2k+
summary: jeong jaehyun has always had the biggest crush on you. that is, until he finds out you’re engaged to nakamoto yuta.
genre: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: jaehyun and reader are extremely horny, pregnancy, penetrative sex, rough sex, public sex, pussy eating, creampies, breeding kink, fingering, squirting, dick sucking, messy sex
Jaehyun feels like he’s on top of the world.
He’s managed to secure another Gryffindor win under his arm with his House praising his ability to spot the Golden Snitch so quickly. Many have speculated that Jaehyun’s the best Seeker the Gryffindor team has seen in years, and that he could easily go into the professional sport after graduating. Jaehyun tries not to let the whispers go straight to his head, even though playing Quidditch on a professional level is his ultimate dream.
The Gryffindor afterparties have gradually become more hectic as the season passes. The party planning committee has been attempting to outdo themselves every time the team bags another victory. The current one is surrounded by a monstrous amount of Firewhisky and dizzy students dressed head to toe in red and gold.
Jaehyun thinks he’s about to turn in for the night until he spots you.
It’s very unusual to see the Slytherin queen casually lounging around in the lion’s den, but you manage to blend in effortlessly. You’re giggling into Jihyo’s ear, prodding the Quidditch captain to take another sip of her drink.
Jaehyun’s always harbored a small crush on you ever since his first year at Hogwarts, but considering you were sorted into separate houses, he never got to spend much time with you. Once Jihyo spots him, however, he doesn’t have much time to flee.
“Jaehyun!”
She grabs his elbow and pulls him forward until he’s standing directly in front of you. Your eyes lock with his, and his heart beats so loudly that he’s sure you can hear it.
“This is our star player,” Jihyo says, stumbling a bit over her words. “He’s the greatest Gryffindor has ever seen!”
“Jihyo,” he grumbles in embarrassment, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun,” you smile, extending your hand out. He awkwardly shakes it, trying not to focus on the fact that his palms are abnormally sweaty. You don’t seem to mind, taking another sip of your drink. “Does your captain here always follow the rules?”
“Annoyingly so,” he chuckles, familiar with Jihyo’s inability to relax most of the time.
As the captain of the most talked about Quidditch team of the decade, Jihyo didn’t have blocks of time in her schedule for fun. She was always planning the best strategy for the next match or conspiring with the team to see what tricks their opponents would pull. Jaehyun notes how you encourage Jihyo to take the edge off by pouring more Firewhisky into her glass.
“No no no,” Jihyo sighs, pushing you away. “I can’t keep drinking. The Quidditch Cup is still at play.”
“Please,” you roll your eyes. “If Jaehyun’s as good as you say he is, then it’s not something you should worry about.”
Jaehyun knows his ears are probably burning bright red by now. Your smile has to be the prettiest sight he’s ever seen, and he secretly wishes he could use a Time Turner to ask the Sorting Hat to place him in Slytherin instead.
“If you pour me another glass, I’ll expose your Slytherin ass right here, right now!”
You simply smirk at Jihyo’s empty threat. “Go ahead. I’m sure the lions would love to devour the head snake.”
There’s no way Jaehyun’s getting turned on right now. Not in the middle of this celebration party, where most of his friends can visibly see him. He abruptly coughs and adjusts the growing tent in his pants.
“I should go to bed,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll see you both later?”
Jihyo beams. “See? What a good Quidditch player! I’m going to bed too!”
“Not so fast,” you laugh, pulling her back. You throw Jaehyun one last look. “See you around, Jae.”
Jaehyun would never admit to anyone that he cast a silencing charm around himself that night to muffle his growing moans. He would never admit that he imagined you on your knees for him, your pretty eyes fluttering as you took him in your mouth. He would never admit he wanted to tangle his fingers through your hair as he pinned you down and fucked you until you cried.
No, this was something he had to carry to his grave.
—
“Today, we’ll be discussing the strongest love potion in the world, Amortentia.”
Johnny rolls his eyes, nudging Jaehyun’s side. “Here we go again,” Johnny whispers gruffly.
Amortentia was an assignment they covered last year, sending most of the classroom hormones ablaze as people tried to convince each other they smelled them in their potion. Johnny and Jaehyun received the brunt end of it, with love letters greeting them at breakfast nearly everyday.
A hand shoots up in the air. “Professor, we covered this topic already,” Mingyu complains. Jaehyun recalls Mingyu also received his fair share of letters the previous year.
“Good recall, Mingyu. However, we’ve never done a project with Amortentia that supports interhouse unity.”
Johnny coughs next to Jaehyun. “This has to be a joke.”
The professor claps his hands and grins, confirming Jaehyun’s worst fear. “Please find your partner for this assignment! The only requirement is that it has to be someone from a different house.”
“I’m grabbing Doyoung,” Johnny hisses before he vanishes from Jaehyun’s side.
Jaehyun’s mind works a little slower, trying to think about who he can partner up with before he feels someone poke his shoulder. He turns to see you behind him, your smile once again making his heart beat out of his chest. You take Johnny’s place and set your books down next to his.
“Nice to see you again, partner.”
“You want to be partners?” Jaehyun stutters.
You giggle. “Why? Is the star player taken already?”
“No! No, definitely not,” he says, wincing at how loud his voice rises.
You just laugh at him. “Good. I heard you’re just as good in your studies as you are on the field.”
Jaehyun opens his mouth to respond, thinking about other ways he can impress you off the field, but the professor claps his hands again.
“Wonderful! Looks like you all have found a partner. The assignment until the end of the term is to brew a batch of Amortentia and document what you smell at the end of each week.”
Doyoung raises his hand with a bored expression. “Professor, what we smell in the Amortentia potion is meant to reflect what we find the most attractive. I don’t believe this changes weekly.”
“I beg to differ! As you all are growing young adults, your taste and interests do, in fact, change everyday! I want to highlight this unique fact about students your age with this assignment.”
The professor dismisses the rumble of arguments that grow throughout the room, offering more details about the project before class ends. Once he’s finished talking, your head turns to face Jaehyun.
“How about we meet up later tonight and brew the first batch?”
“Y-Yeah! After Quidditch practice?”
You grin, gathering your books and standing. “See you there.”
Jaehyun’s eyes linger on the sway of your hips as you walk away. He’s totally fucked.
—
Jaehyun knows he’s terribly distracted at Quidditch practice.
Jihyo is reprimanding him for his carelessness as the Snitch zooms past him and he doesn’t even attempt to grab it. He takes all of her constructive criticism to heart, fingers gripping his broom tightly as he tries to focus.
His mind betrays him, nonetheless, wandering to the idea of you studying in the library. He imagines your knee high socks clinging to your skin, the bottom of your skirt barely covering the tops of your thighs. He wonders how high your skirt will rise if he asks you to grab him a book from the top shelf. Maybe your panties will peek out, showing him an eyeful of-
“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Jaehyun blinks, returning to reality. Johnny’s floating in front of him, eyebrows raised. “You missed the Snitch again. You’re lucky Jihyo didn’t see it.”
Jaehyun shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m just all over the place today.”
Johnny leans forward, eyes narrowing at him. Jaehyun would normally be disturbed if this was anyone else, but he recognizes that look on Johnny’s face. Almost as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
Johnny stares at him for a few more seconds before he starts laughing, clutching his stomach and almost falling off his broom.
“What?” Jaehyun frowns, not understanding the joke.
Johnny manages to calm himself down, brushing away his tears of joy.
“You’re pussydrunk!”
“What?” Jaehyun questions, eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Johnny chuckles and calls Jihyo over.
“I know what’s wrong with Jaehyun,” Johnny says confidently.
She’s far from amused. “Well, please enlighten us. I’d love to know why my star player is playing at the worst I’ve seen in years.”
“Jaehyun’s got a little crush.”
Jihyo’s pissed-off expression turns into one of happiness when she hears Johnny’s reply, and Jaehyun’s shocked to see the captain giggling into her palm.
“No way! For who?”
“He hasn’t said.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you two are on,” Jaehyun mutters in agitation. “But I don’t have a crush. I’m just distracted, that’s all.”
Jihyo snickers. “Now I really don’t believe you. Well, make sure that whoever it is doesn’t prevent you from playing at your best this weekend. Fuck in the locker rooms beforehand for all I care.”
“That’s not-“ Jaehyun tries to argue, growing more and more red by each passing second. He fails to find a comeback and zooms away, ignoring Johnny and Jihyo’s laughter at his predicament.
—
Jaehyun has to talk himself up before entering the Potions classroom.
He knows you’re already in there, waiting for him to begin your assignment. He’s conjured up a few conversation starters that he thinks will work well with you. He probably looks like such a loser, but he genuinely hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you and it’s starting to drive him insane.
He coughs quietly before opening the door, pausing at the sight of you leaned over the cauldron, the illumination of the potion casting a glow over your face. You look up and smile, and he swears his heart stops in his chest.
“Hey, there you are,” you laugh softly. “How was Quidditch practice?”
He manages to gather himself enough to join you at the Potions table, setting his bag down. “It was alright. I was a little in my head so Jihyo was a bit displeased.”
You waved him off. “I’m sure you were fine. Jihyo just needs to relax.”
He chuckles. “That’s an understatement.”
“Well, I actually brewed the potion while I was waiting for you. All we need to do is document what we smell for today and we’ll be set.”
Jaehyun frowns. “I’m sorry you had to brew it alone. I would’ve asked Jihyo to leave early if I-“
You giggle and shake your head. “Jae, you’re completely fine. I just didn’t want to keep you too long in case you needed to rest. I can’t imagine having to juggle Quidditch with these silly assignments everyday.”
His heart warms by the fact that you’re so considerate of him, but he’s also disappointed that he has less time to spend with you. In order to avoid looking like he’s lingering too long, he thanks you and leans over the cauldron. It’s no surprise that it smells exactly like you, and the tip of his ears bloom red. He rattles off random scents and avoids your gaze.
When you lean over, there’s a small hope in his chest that he is the object of your desire. Even the faintest touch of Quidditch grass in your Amortentia potion would have him jumping for joy.
You quickly withdraw from the cauldron, almost as if you immediately recognize the scent.
He clears his throat. “What did you smell?”
You shrug. “Iris and jasmine. Typical.”
And his heart falls straight to the ground.
—
“What do I smell like?”
Johnny jolts back in his seat at the sight of his best friend frantically pushing his neck towards Johnny’s face. Doyoung is also startled by Jaehyun’s presence, gasping and placing a hand over his chest.
“Merlin, Jaehyun. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Jaehyun ignores the awkward stares from his other Gryffindor housemates. He slumps down in one of the common room chairs, facing Johnny and Doyoung from their spot on the sofa.
“Do you think I smell like iris and jasmine?”
Johnny exchanges a look with Doyoung, who shrugs at Jaehyun’s unnatural behavior.
Johnny sighs. “I mean, not really. You always just kind of smell like grass and amber.”
“But do you think I could?” Jaehyun asks, eyes a little more frantic. “Do you think I could smell like iris and jasmine? Especially to someone who doesn’t know me that well?”
Doyoung leans over to whisper to Johnny, even though Jaehyun can clearly still hear him.
“I think this is about the Amortentia assignment.”
Johnny’s eyes light up. “Oh, so this is about that girl you’re pussydrunk for!”
Jaehyun’s eyes widen at the volume of Johnny’s voice. He throws himself across the room to cover his best friend’s mouth.
Johnny just laughs and pries him off. “Listen, dude, I get you’re pussydrunk right now but this stupid assignment is the last thing you need to worry about. We have the qualifier game against Slytherin tomorrow, remember?”
And Jaehyun knows Johnny’s right. He tries not to think about you for the rest of the day and puts Quidditch at the forefront in his mind.
Jihyo holds a mandatory practice that night to run over the key plays, and it takes everything in Jaehyun to stop thinking about what you would look like in Gryffindor colors, cheering him on in the stands.
On the day of the match, he throws himself into the sport that he knows best. He doesn’t falter at the sight of the Slytherin seeker, Nakamoto Yuta, who mindlessly chews his gum on the field before the game starts. Yuta’s known for his carefree attitude, contrasting his sharp flying abilities and quick wit.
He smirks at the sight of Jaehyun, tilting his head slightly to challenge him. Jaehyun narrows his eyes and maintains his focus, immediately taking off once the whistle is blown to signal the start of the game.
The match is high with exhilaration from the two rival teams, with Gryffindor and Slytherin battling it out like no other. Jaehyun knows he and Yuta have to be the tie-breaker since the points from both sides aren’t adding up as quickly as anticipated, and he can see Jihyo’s frustration from across the field.
It’s an hour into the game when Jaehyun sees the fluttering wings.
He doesn’t hesitate, taking off and chasing the Snitch. Yuta spots it at the same exact time and quickly follows. The two are neck and neck until Jaehyun’s hand stretches a little farther than Yuta’s, securing the Snitch in his hand and effectively ending the game.
“Yes! Another game ending win from Jeong Jaehyun! Gryffindor advances to the finals of the Quidditch Cup!”
The audience breaks out in applause and cheers, and Jaehyun finally allows himself to take it in. Just like with every other game, Johnny rushes over to wrap him in a hug once they’re on the ground.
“That’s my boy! Only Jeong Jaehyun can do that!”
Jaehyun laughs when the whole team joins in on the hug, wrapping arms around one another in a sweaty pile of victory.
“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”
The stadium chants loudly and Jaehyun feels happiness spread all the way down to his toes. He chuckles when Jihyo embraces him, almost crying herself.
The team gets cleaned up in the locker rooms before heading out to celebrate their win. Jaehyun’s surprised to see a few Slytherins lingering around, and even more surprised when one of them happens to be you.
Was it possible that you were waiting for him? That would be ridiculous, right?
And just as he’s about to call out your name to confirm his suspicion, he stops in his tracks when Yuta approaches you. Freshly showered, Yuta swings an arm around your shoulder effortlessly.
Jaehyun’s heart stops in his chest.
Yuta spots him out of the corner of his eye and whispers something in your ear. Jaehyun feels frozen on the spot when the two of you grow closer and closer to him.
“Jeong, nice game out there. I guess it’s true when they say you’re the best Seeker in our year,” Yuta compliments, lips still twisted in a smirk.
Jaehyun’s eyes are hyper focused on Yuta’s arm dangling from your shoulder while you look like the picture perfect girlfriend.
You smile at him, not sensing his discomfort. “Yeah, great game, Jae. Gryffindor’s star player indeed.”
Yuta laughs and hums in agreement. Jaehyun can’t find any words to say, almost like they’re lodged in the middle of his throat, so he nods instead.
“Well, we won’t ruin your victory party,” Yuta winks, arm moving downwards to wrap around your waist. “See you around.”
You smile at him again as you and Yuta begin walking back to the castle. “Bye, Jae.”
Jaehyun remains rooted in his spot, heart breaking into a million little pieces.
The scent of iris and jasmine overwhelms him.
—
“Why didn’t you tell me she was with Yuta?”
“I didn’t know she was the one you were pussydrunk for!”
Jaehyun groans, collapsing in one of the big chairs in the Gryffindor common room. He roughly runs his fingers through his hair as Johnny stares at him worriedly.
After finally coming to his senses, Jaehyun had managed to locate his best friend and confront him about his knowledge of you and Yuta.
“And technically, they’re not actually together,” Johnny corrects, trying to mend Jaehyun’s heartbreak. “Their families are the old Slytherin type so they’ve been engaged since birth. I don’t think they’re willingly dating.”
“She smelled him,” Jaehyun whispers, wringing his hands together. “In her Amortentia potion. That’s why I was asking you and Doyoung what I smell like.”
Johnny winces. “Maybe you brewed the potion wrong?”
Jaehyun curses. Of course this had to happen to him. The one person he genuinely has feelings for, a person he will desperately beg for attention, is not only taken, but engaged to someone else.
Just his luck.
“How am I supposed to keep doing this project with her?” He mutters roughly to Johnny, like taking out his anger on the tall Gryffindor will help his situation. “She’s going to keep smelling Yuta every week and I know all I’ll smell is her.”
Johnny can sense his friend is mentally combusting and tries his best to help.
“Rumor is that they don’t romantically like one another. It’s more of a mutual transaction — if they don’t end up with each other, they’ll have to get married to a random stranger. Listen, you can win her over with that Jeong charm, I know you can. The whole arranged marriage tradition can’t keep lasting for generations. Someone has to break it, and maybe this is the time.”
“And the chances of her actually leaving him?”
The look on his friend’s face tells Jaehyun everything he needs to know.
Maybe this is a sign that he should move on. He’s had a crush on you for long enough, and it clearly will never go anywhere beyond his imagination. He knows that he shouldn’t bring it up or even mention his discovery of it, but the next time he meets you for the project, he can’t help himself. The sight of you looking so fucking breathtaking while you carefully mix peppermint flower is enough for his common sense to switch off.
“Are you engaged to Yuta?”
You pause at the question, an eyebrow raised at him in confusion. He doesn’t blame you since the past twenty minutes of brewing the potion have been spent in complete silence before his inquiry.
“Um, yeah, I am. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering,” he murmurs under his breath. “When will you get married?”
“It’s customary to marry immediately after schooling. Our parents have been planning it since before we were born,” you share, sounding like you’ve already explained this thousands of times.
He coughs awkwardly. “Sorry for the interrogation, I’m not very familiar with Slytherin customs.”
“It’s okay,” you smile assuredly as you drop the peppermint flowers into the cauldron. “Many other houses are usually curious about our situation. I never realized how abnormal it looks from the outside until I came to Hogwarts.”
“You should get a choice, you know,” he replies, chewing his bottom lip nervously. “A choice to choose who you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
If you sense any underlying intentions in Jaehyun’s statement, you don’t show it. Instead, you plaster on another perfect smile and he realizes how rehearsed it looks.
“Yuta is my best friend. Even though we didn’t choose each other, it’s not a bad thing to end up with someone you can trust. If anything, it’s a wonderful gift.”
The words don’t even sound like yours. It sounds more like someone spoon fed it to you in the hopes that you would end up believing it yourself. He analyzes your body language, noticing how stiff your shoulders have become. You brush off the discomfort, focusing on stirring the Amortentia.
“Let’s finish the assignment for the week and call it a night, hm?”
He nods in agreement and leans over, not shocked in the slightest when he smells the citrus of your shampoo. He tells you the same scents as the week before, grasping at the hope that maybe you’ll smell something different.
But just like the week prior, you barely catch a whiff of the potion before you hum.
“Iris and jasmine.”
Jaehyun wishes someone would pierce his heart with the Sword of Gryffindor.
—
Jihyo furrows her eyebrows when she steps onto the field, registering the sight of her star player sulking on his broom, legs kicking the air like a small toddler having a tantrum.
She walks over to Johnny and gestures at Jaehyun’s floating figure.
“Pussy related?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Jihyo grimaces. She loves Jaehyun, she really does, but she can’t afford to have a heartbroken teenager on her team right now. The Quidditch Cup is just inches away from her fingers and if she wants to play the sport professionally after Hogwarts, she needs Jaehyun to be at the top of his game.
She takes her broom up to his brooding form. “Hey, champ. How’s it hanging?”
“Maybe I can die and reincarnate into who she wants me to be. Do you think there’s a spell for that?”
His eyes look sunken in. Jihyo sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort.
“Why don’t you take practice off today? I have no doubt you’ll bring your all to the finals but I need you to be in the right state of mind. Go fix your pussy problem and come back when you’re ready.”
Jaehyun leaves Quidditch practice with his tail tucked between his legs. He changes in the locker room, swapping out his uniform for his regular clothes, and heads back to the castle.
He thinks about you the whole way, wondering how he should move on. Should he play his part as a miserable bystander and watch you marry Yuta? It’s been your fate since before you were born, and who is he to come in and change it anyways?
His swirling thoughts are interrupted by a high-pitched giggle. Just as he turns the corner down the hallway leading to the Gryffindor dorms, he pauses when he catches a glimpse at the current thorn in his side.
Yuta has Seo Soojin cornered against a wall, lips brushing against her ear as his hand roughly grips her thigh to hook it around his hip. She’s laughing at whatever he says, fingers bunched up at his shoulders. Jaehyun stills when Yuta leans forward and captures her mouth with his. The two pay no mind that they are clearly in a hallway and can get caught at any time, whether it be by a classmate or teacher.
The only part that Jaehyun can focus on is the delirious rage taking over him.
How dare Yuta do this to you! He has the opportunity to be with you, to give you all the love that Jaehyun so desperately wants, yet he’s here making out with another girl.
His feet act before his mind does. His brain doesn’t completely register what he’s doing as he breezes past Yuta and Soojin, heading for the Great Hall with blazing fury. His eyes spot you as soon as the doors fling open, chatting with some of your friends at the Slytherin table.
You’re startled when you hear his voice behind you.
“Can I talk to you?”
The table falls silent at the sight of the Gryffindor prince confronting the Slytherin princess. Your classmates throw you confused glances and you offer them a smile of assurance in return. You excuse yourself and follow Jaehyun outside, where he pulls you to a nearby corner.
“Go out with me,” he starts, his body inches from yours. “This weekend at Hogsmeade. We can get sweets before it gets colder and have a few Butterbeers together.”
You blink at him, silent for a few moments before you carefully respond.
“Jae, I’m flattered by all means. You’re such a sweet guy but you know Yuta and I-“
“I just saw him making out with Soojin!”
You don’t look phased at all by the outburst. “Soojin and him are very close partners,” you say calmly. “We have a mutual understanding.”
He frowns. How could you have no reaction to your future husband kissing someone else?
You read the bewilderment on his face. “I told you Yuta’s my best friend. We’ve never had romantic feelings for one another. He’s free to be with as many people as he wants before we marry, it’s not an issue with me.”
“But what about you?”
Rejecting Jaehyun is like kicking a sick puppy. He was so unbelievably cute and hot at the same time, and you would be dumb not to notice how he stares at you like you invented magic.
However, you know how this story will tragically end and you don’t want Jaehyun to experience that fate.
“Jae, no matter what, I’m still marrying Yuta after leaving. The amount of flings he or I have is inconsequential, we’re going to end up together anyways. Nevertheless, the people who develop feelings for us will get hurt along the way. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
He feels more vulnerable than he ever has before, but he pushes through the discomfort of your possible dismissal.
“I don’t care if I get hurt. I mean, fuck it, my heart already broke in half when I found out you were engaged,” he sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “I just want one day with you. It’s completely selfish but I want to spend time with you — no assignment, no Quidditch, no Yuta. I know it’s not going to change anything but is it so pathetic of me to act on my desire before your fate is officially sealed?”
Your heart swells. You’ve never had anyone fight for you like this before. Normally, you had to witness a handful of girls bawl their eyes out after Yuta ends their situationship. You’ve always avoided being in the spot you’re in now, with someone’s heart in your hands and their hopes and dreams contingent on yours.
You exhale. “Fine, just one day. Pick me up at the Slytherin dorms on Saturday.”
—
You slowly talk yourself down when Saturday rolls around. As eager as you are, you couldn’t show it to Jaehyun. You didn’t want him to keep hanging on to this last shred of hope that you would end up together.
You stare at your reflection in the mirror, wondering if you look too dressed up for a day in Hogsmeade. An emerald green dress hugs your figure — a present from Yuta’s parents three years ago. You’ve grown a little since receiving it, so now the hem barely covers your thighs.
You give yourself a twirl, hoping it’s not too short for Jaehyun’s liking.
“Why are you taking so long? I’ve been waiting downstairs forever.”
You turn at the sound of the familiar voice and find Yuta standing at your doorway, eyebrows raised at the sight of you.
“Woah, you look nice. Feeling good today?” He asks.
“I actually promised to go to Hogsmeade with a friend today,” you say casually, hoping Yuta doesn’t prod too much. “Sorry I forgot to tell you.”
“Do I know this friend?”
“No, he’s in Gryffindor. I know you’re a Slytherin only club.”
“Oh, so it’s a he?”
You sigh. “It’s just a Hogsmeade outing, Yuta. You have nothing to worry about.”
He hums noncommittally and you know it’s his way of saying that this was a bad idea. Yuta’s possessive over you, but only because he knows if your lives do not go the way your parents have planned it, you both would be completely disowned from your families.
He takes a seat on your bed and gives you a look. “I heard Jeong Jaehyun’s been asking around about you.”
You shrug. “We’re partners in Potions.”
He doesn’t buy your half-assed explanation and you know it. As much as you could see right through Yuta, he could see right through you.
“I’ve never had an issue with Soojin,” you point out, hoping to end his line of questioning.
“Yes, and that’s because I’ve always drawn clear boundaries with her. She knows we’re a temporary item. Can you say the same for Jaehyun?”
“Yuta,” you beg, throwing him a defeated glance. “Please drop this.”
He purses his lips, pausing for a few moments before nodding. He leaves you to finish getting ready, mind swirling with a million thoughts. Since he’s known you, you’ve never given him a reason to believe you’re unhappy with your engagement. Raised traditionally, you were the type to never question what your parents decided for you. Yuta was always the more rebellious one in your relationship and you never cared what he did.
Although sometimes, Yuta wishes that you would show a tiny ounce of concern.
When he steps out of the Slytherin common room, he locks eyes with none other than Jeong Jaehyun. The Gryffindor freezes at the sight of him and Yuta smirks.
“She’s almost finished, if you’ve been waiting long,” Yuta says, eyes testing Jaehyun’s.
The Gryffindor smiles but Yuta can tell it’s forced. “That’s fine, I don’t mind being out here.”
Yuta nods. “You know, we usually go to Hogsmeade together. Every weekend we can.”
“Oh?” Jaehyun swallows, intimidated by Yuta’s glare. “I didn’t know. We’re partners in Potions so I just wanted to spend some time together outside of the classroom.”
“I’m sure you do,” Yuta smiles knowingly, sending a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
Jaehyun watches Yuta’s figure disappear down the hallway, and he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Ready to go?”
He nearly jumps five feet in the air when you approach him. You giggle into your hand at the sight of him looking so startled.
“What’s wrong? See a ghost down in the Slytherin dungeons?” You tease, eyes sparkling.
Jaehyun straightens himself before scoffing. “No, I just got so tired waiting out here for you.”
You smile at his flustered state and bump his hip with yours. “Let’s get going then. Wouldn’t want Gryffindor’s star player to die from waiting too long.”
He mutters quietly to himself when you start walking.
“If only you knew.”
The trek to Hogsmeade is filled with tentative smiles and shy gazes. Jaehyun has been stressing out all week on how to make this trip a life changing one for you. He somehow has to convince you that being chained to Yuta for the rest of your life is a living nightmare, and that you should be with Jaehyun instead.
The task feels too demanding, so he starts off simple.
“You look really pretty.”
You flush at the compliment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He grins, dimples peeking out. You observe as he shrugs off his jacket in favor of placing it on your shoulders to protect you from the incoming wind. A few Hufflepuff girls pass, whispering to one another. You catch the tail-end of their questioning.
“Did they break off their engagement?”
“That’s impossible, there’s no way their parents would allow it.”
Jaehyun hears their gossip as well, not hesitating to throw them a heated glare. They scurry away from the both of you. You soothe him by setting your hand on his upper arm.
“It’s okay, Jae. Don’t worry about them.”
You make your way to Honeydukes, which is bustling with students trying to buy holiday gifts for their friends and family. You’re scanning the shelves of Chocolate Frogs when you feel Jaehyun’s presence inch closer to your back. A hand suddenly slinks around your waist, and you jolt at the contact.
“Sorry,” Jaehyun’s apology is spoken quietly in your ear. You shudder at the sudden proximity. “There’s so many people here.”
Although that may be true, you know the nearest person to you is at least six feet away, giving Jaehyun plenty of space. You indulge his lie, however, mainly for your own personal interest.
“That’s okay,” you reply quietly. “I don’t mind.”
The sexual tension from that point on increases tenfold. You’ve never been a very intimate person, especially considering you know where you’ll be at the end of your Hogwarts journey. There have been a few affairs here and there, but never someone you find yourself captivated by.
And fuck it if Jaehyun isn’t only captivating, but causes your panties to grow wetter and wetter in the winter breeze.
He somehow finds a reason to always be near you — “there’s so many people around,” “want to make sure you don’t trip and fall,” “think I saw some guy staring at your legs too long,” — you name it. You entertain him every single time, allowing his hand to secure its place on your hip and the warmth of his chest to be pressed against your back. You can’t recall what you even bought at Honeydukes or Zonko’s because Jaehyun’s thumb stroking your collarbone sent you into a frenzy.
As he escorts you into the Three Broomsticks, he mumbles a comment that nearly makes you moan. Out loud.
“Your dress would look even better if it was in red, don’t you think?”
You’d like to say you’ve never developed an affinity for the Slytherin house colors, but by your second year, your wardrobe had been filled with varying shades of green. The thought of donning red just for Jaehyun supplied your body with a warmth that was unexpected during this time of year.
He orders two Butterbeers, smirking the whole way while throwing side glances at you.
He planned to make this an incredibly difficult trip for you.
“Can I ask you a question?” He asks when the server leaves.
You’re seated in one of the booths in the corner, away from prying eyes. You nod at him, heart accelerating when he takes the opportunity to scoot closer to you until your thigh is touching his.
“This marriage contract — tell me what it entails.”
“Well, the terms are pretty simple. After graduating, Yuta and I will have a traditional wedding for friends and family to witness. We vow to spend the rest of our lives together in the hopes of producing children who also carry magical blood. Its purpose is to hopefully extend our bloodline for generations to come.”
The explanation of your relationship with Yuta has been memorized by now, but Jaehyun doesn’t look like he’s appeased by your answer.
“And what about those flings you were referring to? You said you have a mutual understanding of Yuta and Soojin. What about when it comes to you?”
You stutter. “W-What do you mean?”
He leans closer, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. His hand rests on your inner thigh, and you fear he’ll find evidence of your arousal dripping on the hardwood.
“If you were to have a little fun for yourself, would Yuta mutually understand? Even if it’s, per se, done in the public eye?”
You’re hyper aware of his fingers moving higher and higher. You’re about to beg for him to touch you when two glasses of Butterbeer slam down on the table, causing you to nearly jump out of your seat.
Your waitress, Suyeon, seems unfazed by your blatant public indecency.
“Two Butterbeers for the table,” she recites in a bored tone before quickly leaving.
You grab the handle of the glass and down your Butterbeer in one go. You wipe the remnants of the drink from the corner of your lips and glance over at Jaehyun, who is wearing an amused expression.
“That thirsty?”
“A little,” you reply nervously. You suddenly feel like your body is not your own, because there’s no way you’re dripping in a public setting right now.
Jaehyun doesn’t skip a beat, pushing your drink aside and cupping the back of your neck, pulling you to him. You gasp when you’re merely inches away from his face. You stare at each other for a good amount of time before you close the gap, sealing your mouth with his.
The kiss is hungry, and you feel like a rabid animal Jaehyun needs to tame. Your hand grabs his and forcefully moves it to cup your clothed cunt. He groans into your mouth, pulling away briefly to cast a silencing charm on your booth.
“You can be as loud as you want, but remember there’s people watching,” he murmurs, and your eyes dart around the pub.
There are some students gathered but it’s not as full as it usually is during this time. Most people aren’t even paying attention to the two of you secluded in your corner. However, at any point, you know they could look over and see Jaehyun fingering you in public.
And at a school sponsored outing, no less.
You throw all your dignity out the window regardless. “I’ll be good,” you promise breathily to him. “Just touch me, please.”
His fingers curl at the fabric of your underwear and you whine loudly, gripping the end of the table like it’s going to save you. His head is angled purposefully to make it seem like he’s just whispering in your ear to any onlooker, attempting to shield what he’s doing to you under the table. You try your best to control your facial expressions so that you don’t end up on some wizarding porn site.
He pushes your panties aside to play with your folds and you hear him chuckle.
“So wet already? I’ve barely even touched you.”
When two fingers slide inside your cunt, you whimper when you hear the squelch, leaking onto his palm. He curses to himself, stretching his digits as far as they can go in your tiny pussy.
“You’re making it so hard for me not to fuck you senseless right now.”
His confessions are driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. You’re thankful he cast a silencing charm because you could hear the gush of your pussy every time his fingers push in and out of your messy hole.
You don’t know if it’s because of Jaehyun or the fact that you’re in a public area or a combination of both, but this climax feels a lot different than the ones you’re used to. He picks up on the signs of your impending orgasm and swiftly casts a Disillusionment charm, temporarily making you both invisible.
“Wait-“ you say, gasping for breath. “I feel weird, Jae. This is different.”
“It’s okay,” he assures you, adding another finger for good measure. “I’m right here, just let go, baby.”
His thumb circling your clit is what drives you over the edge. You squirt everywhere, your orgasm painting the table and the floor. He groans into your ear, moving his fingers faster and faster while you ride out your high.
You can barely register the sweet nothings he continues to mumble.
“Such a good pussy for me. All mine. So fucking pretty when you squirt for me, baby. And doing it in public? Filthy girl.”
You push him away when the overstimulation becomes too much. Your chest is heaving and you feel completely spent, trying to catch your breath.
“I’m going to get some towels and clean us up before the spell wears off,” he says to you, even though you barely comprehend it. “Stay here, baby.”
You come to when Jaehyun returns with a handful of towels, wiping the inside of your thighs and clearing the table. The spell wears off shortly after, and you do your best to make yourself appear presentable and not like you just got finger fucked at the Three Broomsticks.
When Jaehyun finishes cleaning up, he brings your mouth to his again. You could stay like this for hours with him, and you’re about to ask him if you can suck him off before the sound of slow clapping interrupts you.
You yelp when you hear it, disconnecting yourself from Jaehyun.
Yuta stands in front of the both of you, eyes narrowed. “Get up,” he demands. “We’re heading back to the castle.”
Your lips twist angrily. “You have no right-“
“Don’t even start with that,” he hisses, slamming one hand on the table. “I can’t believe what you just did in front of everyone.”
You rise to your feet so that you’re on the same level as him. “Are you kidding me?” You say in frustration. “You make out with Soojin on the daily!”
“But I’ve never finger fucked her in a pub! Especially not when I know my father’s friends frequent the area.”
You ball your hands at your side, knowing he’s won the logical part of this argument. He throws you another stern look before leaving, expecting you to follow shortly.
You step over to Jaehyun, who was watching your argument unfold with a defeated expression. You press your lips to his again and sigh.
“Meet me in the library tomorrow night, okay? I’m sorry about him.”
He nods in understanding and you smile at him, giving him one last kiss before you depart. Once you encounter Yuta outside, he rolls his eyes at you and shoves a pair of gloves to your chest to keep your hands warm.
You both angrily stomp together back to the castle.
“You had no right.”
He scoffs. “I had no right? You were the one exposing yourself in front of almost all of Hogwarts. You’re lucky I was there to shoo off any unwanted glances.”
“Yes, I’m so lucky you came in and stopped me from having a good time,” you hiss, rage fueling at the pit of your stomach.
“You know if you were caught we would have our heads served on a silver platter to them,” he bites back at you, and you know he’s alluding to the wrath of your parents. “And I’m trying to save you from breaking that poor guy’s heart.”
You shake your head. “I already told Jaehyun about us. He knows it won’t go anywhere.”
“Do you think that will actually stop him? He was throwing fucking heart eyes at you whenever you weren’t looking.” He turns and stops you when you’re almost back at the Hogwarts entrance. “Listen, you know I’m not trying to be an asshole. With all things considered, we have to marry next summer even though the both of us don’t particularly want to. Developing feelings for him is only going to make it harder when we leave.”
You ignore the tears swelling in your eyes, burning from the harsh temperature.
“I told you that he knows. It’s not going anywhere.”
He doesn’t buy your reasoning and you both know it.
“You better hope it’s not. For both of our sakes.”
—
Jaehyun can feel your hands roaming the expanse of his body. He hears your voice whispering in his ear, teasing him.
“Want to suck you dry.” You’re smiling, lips tracing the shell of his ear. Your fingers are dancing on his chest, slowly moving downwards. “Maybe I’ll make a show for everyone. Make them see I’m yours.”
“Even Yuta?” He groans, unable to stop himself from asking.
“Especially Yuta.”
Your hand grips the base of his cock, pumping him slowly. Your thumb teases the tip and you squeeze him gently. He hisses, hips thrusting upwards in an attempt to get you to move faster.
You laugh and the melody sounds like bliss.
“Be patient, silly.”
Jaehyun jolts out of his sleep when a pillow lands square in his face. It has to be past midnight since his room is still completely dark. Johnny hovers over his bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
“Dude, either cast a silencing charm or have those dreams when we’re not all in the room with you.”
Jaehyun’s ears redden and Johnny slowly crawls back into his own bed, turning on his side and falling back to sleep. Jaehyun grabs his wand and quickly draws the curtains of his four poster bed, casting a silencing charm like Johnny advised. His hands wander to the band of his sweatpants, and he’s embarrassed to admit he’s already rock hard just from a vision of you.
He wraps a hand around himself, closing his eyes and imagining you on your knees, waiting for him. You’re wrapped in Gryffindor red as his present, the lace hugging your body in all the right places. You smell exactly like his Amortentia potion while your lips wrap slowly around his cock. Jaehyun guides you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and easing you down until his tip hits the back of your throat. He moans louder at the thought, moving his hand faster up and down his length. He wonders what you’ll look like when he cums — if your mouth will be wide open, waiting for his release, or if you’ll close your eyes, allowing him to paint your face as he pleases.
It’s the thought of you licking him clean that drives him over the edge. His eyes roll back as ropes of white cover his stomach, and he rides his high until the oversensitivity becomes too much.
As he regains his breath, the conscious part of him starts to nag in his ear. He shuts his eyes tightly, pushing away the picture of you in white, walking down to the end of an aisle to meet Yuta.
—
“I thought you were meeting the Slytherin queen?”
Jaehyun sighs, pushing the palm of his hands against his eyes. “I can’t. I saw her at the table and-“
A few moments pass in silence and Johnny raises an eyebrow.
“And?”
“And I wanted to bend her over it.”
Johnny whistles. “It’s getting real bad for you, huh?”
“Johnny, I can’t keep doing this.”
He’s not looking, but he knows Johnny’s rolling his eyes. “Listen, horndog. Just go over there, have a nice talk with her, and then go back to bed and beat it to your heart’s desire.”
Jaehyun approaches you carefully. You’re sitting at a table near the back of the library, reading over the next assignment for your History of Magic class. He takes a deep breath before pulling out the chair across from you and taking a seat.
“Hi,” you brighten up when you see him, closing your History of Magic textbook and pushing it to the side.
“Hey,” he says, the corner of his lips turning up at the sight of your smile.
He’s down so bad for you.
“Sorry about yesterday,” you apologize. “I didn’t know Yuta would be there.”
“It’s okay,” he assures, not detailing how he went back to his dorm that night and had wet dreams about you sucking him off. “He was right, we should have been more careful.”
You nod, chewing on your lower lip nervously. Jaehyun imagines slipping his thumb between your lips, watching as you wrap your mouth around it while innocently staring up at him. He wonders how messy you would be with drool pooling out of your mouth and teary eyes begging for him to go deeper.
“Jae?”
He shakes himself out of his trance and you giggle to yourself.
“We can’t. Not here. They put a sex ban charm on the library after the incident last year, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” he says sheepishly, embarrassed to be caught by you.
Last year, two students got a little handsy against one of the shelves and traumatized a bunch of first year students trying to locate a book for their first Charms class. Since then, any student who tries anything beyond kissing in the library is immediately sentenced to a week of cleaning up the Potions classroom.
“I wasn’t trying to initiate anything,” he promises. “Sometimes, I just can’t control myself when I’m with you.”
You flush, smiling to yourself at his honesty.
“Well, it’s been another week so we should check on our Amortentia assignment. I think the Potions room is empty by this time of night.”
That’s how you end up with Jaehyun’s cock in your mouth as he’s propped up against one of the Potions tables, hand tangled in your hair. He moans loudly when you take him until he hits the back of your throat.
“Shit, baby. You have no idea how many times I dreamt of seeing you like this.”
Jaehyun’s definitely bigger than you’re used to, but the thought of making him unravel encourages you to give him the best head of his life. Your hands find purchase on his thighs and you look up at him, catching his dark gaze.
You tap his thigh twice to give him the go ahead and he takes a firmer grip on your head before violently thrusting into your mouth. You try your best to control your gag reflex, the room being filled with garbled choking and Jaehyun’s continuous moans.
“So fucking messy,” he hisses at you. He turns even more feral when he realizes you’re fingering yourself while sucking his cock, hands disappearing underneath your skirt. “Fuck, baby. Are you playing with your cunt while you suck me off, hm? Too turned on from me using your mouth?”
You whine around him and he pulls out with a loud pop, watching you struggle to collect the drool dripping from your lips. His arms hoist you up and before you know it, his lips are on yours, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. It’s a heavy mix of tongues and moans, and he even pulls away from you just to spit in your mouth.
He pushes your back against one of the tables and grips your ankles, folding your knees to your chest. He doesn’t bother stripping you of your underwear, simply pushing it to the side and running his tip through your folds.
“Please,” you beg, voice heady and desperate. You actually think you might pass out if Jaehyun doesn’t fuck you right now.
He leans down to kiss you again, hands digging into your hips. “I’ll take care of you, baby. No need to worry. This pussy has been crying for me since yesterday, hm?”
You nod, fat tears starting to roll down your face. You can’t imagine how fucked out you look right now — folded in half and sobbing when Jaehyun’s dick isn’t even inside of you yet.
The stretch of him nearly makes you delirious. He takes his time pressing inside of you until he bottoms out, moaning into your neck when he’s in all the way.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers, and you hear the familiar squelch of your pussy welcoming his cock. “It’s so easy for me to slide in, baby.”
Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you have zero thoughts swirling in your mind at this current moment. You never knew sex could be so mind numbing but your body is completely drunk on Jaehyun. He looks breathtaking above you, pressing his body weight to yours so he can take advantage of the best angle to drill into you.
His hands frantically paw at your buttoned up uniform until he rips open your top, exposing your lacy black bra. He’s quick to pull it down, mouth attaching to your right breast.
Lewd sounds fill the air of the classroom as his balls slap against your cunt with every thrust. One hand darts down to thumb at your clit and you moan even louder.
“Can you squirt again for me, baby?” He murmurs, tongue flicking your nipple. “Want to see you make a mess.”
“I d-didn’t even k-know I could,” you whimper. “That w-was my first t-time.”
“Yeah?” He growls and rails into you faster. “No one’s ever made you feel as good as me, isn’t that right?”
You nod, more tears starting to drift down your face. Pleasure fills you until you can’t possibly take any more of it.
“Jae, I’m gonna-“
“Go ahead, baby. I’m right here.”
Your release coats his upper half and he takes his cock out to flick it against your folds, spraying your orgasm across the floor. Your thighs are trembling, throat dry from your cries. He shushes you, pressing kisses to the side of your face as you come down from your high.
“J-Jae, cum inside,” you mumble, pushing back the strands of hair covering his face.
His head darts up so fast that you’re surprised he doesn’t get whiplash.
“We didn’t cast a contraceptive charm.”
You hum, your orgasm still singing in your veins. “That’s okay, I don’t mind.”
Jaehyun swallows, pushing out of the haze of being pussydrunk to try and form a coherent thought.
“We can’t- It’s too dangerous.”
You’ll probably regret saying this later but you bring him closer to you, sucking at the shell of his ear and whispering quietly.
“They won’t let me marry Yuta if I’m pregnant with your child, isn’t that right?”
That’s all he needs to shove his cock back inside your warm cunt. “Fucking filthy girl. Gonna let me breed you? Fill your dirty pussy until it’s leaking with my cum?”
“Ungh, ungh, ungh,” you blubber at the force of his thrusts. Your second climax creeps up on you, spurred on by the thought of carrying Jaehyun’s baby.
Ropes of his cum fill you just as you come undone. Jaehyun grunts and pushes into you as deep as possible, painting your walls white.
You both lay in a heap of limbs on the Potions table, completely spent from your orgasms.
“Do you realize what we just did?” He asks when he catches his breath.
You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
He gently kisses you. “We need to finish brewing our Amortentia batch.”
You laugh. “Your cum is literally dripping down my legs and you want to finish our homework?”
He smiles. “I need to see something.”
You clean yourselves up as best as you can before getting to work. You fall into a peaceful harmony adding the ingredients together, and you find your notebook once the potion is complete.
“Raspberries and parchment.”
Now that you know Jaehyun a little better, you raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles at your questioning look.
“I was waiting for you to realize I was making up shit,” he says. He circles his arms around you, breathing in your scent. He confesses to you calmly, lips ghosting the crown of your head. “I smell the citrus of your shampoo that drives me crazy. I smell the chocolate chip cookies you and Jihyo make every Valentine’s Day. I smell the peppermint flowers you mix every time we brew this potion.”
You giggle. “How do you know about all of that?”
“I’ve dreamed of you for years, you don’t think I know the scent of your shampoo?” He chuckles. “Or how you would give me a cookie every year on my birthday, Valentine’s Day? Every time you handed it to me, I always tried to get the courage to build a conversation with you.”
You just shake your head with a grin. He patiently waits for you to lean over the cauldron, holding his breath in anticipation.
Your eyes twinkle. “It smells different.”
“Yeah?” He hums, burying his face in your shoulder. “What does it smell like?”
“Like the Quidditch pitch after a Gryffindor win,” you reply with a laugh. “The scent of amber after you shower. The cinnamon you like to put in your hot chocolate. It smells just like you.”
You squeal when he pounces on you again, kissing you with as much love and adoration that he can express.
—
A week before the holidays roll around, you gather enough courage to finally have the conversation you’ve been dreading with Yuta.
It seems like he already knows what you’re going to ask when you approach him in the Slytherin common room. He’s resting on one of the dark leather couches as Soojin sits on his lap, playing with his hair while giggling.
“Soojin, could you give me and Yuta a moment?”
You’ve never actually spoken to Soojin in all the years she’s been with Yuta, so she’s shocked to hear you addressing her formally. She offers you a timid nod before disappearing up the stairs.
Yuta has a dejected look on his face, wringing his hands around uncomfortably.
“Don’t ruin this for us,” he sighs, staring at you. “Don’t ruin this for some guy you met a month ago.”
Your eyes well up with tears. “Can you be my best friend for a second, please? Not my fiancĂ©, not the Slytherin king. Just my best friend.”
He pauses, and you swear you could hear a pin drop from the tension. He takes a glance around the room, where a few first years are studying together and some older students are trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.
“Everyone out. Now.”
The room is sent into a frenzy at Yuta’s stern tone, with the first years clumsily gathering their things and the older students attempting to act like they weren’t listening in. It isn’t long before it’s just the two of you, and you take a seat next to him.
“I like him, Yuta,” you admit, nails digging into the palms of your hands. “I know you’re going to say I told you so but I really like him.”
“Don’t do that,” he scolds, ripping your hands apart so that you stop injuring yourself. It was always a bad habit he tried to get you to break. He exhales before standing, starting to pace in front of you.
Yuta had seen you hanging with the Gryffindor star more lately as Jaehyun walked you to and from classes, and you both would disappear into empty classrooms almost every chance you got. He tried to brush it off to the best of his ability, but he knew he was losing you from the moment he caught you in Hogsmeade. And seeing you now, teary-eyed in front of him, confirms his suspicions.
“We’ll get shunned. Burned from the family tree,” he says, making you cry even more.
“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to hide the croak in your voice. “Maybe they’ll let you marry Soojin — her bloodline is strong and she comes from generations of Slytherins.”
“And what about you? What do you think they’ll do to you when they find out you plan to run away with a Gryffindor?”
You swallow. “They will strip me of my birthright. I will no longer be allowed to attend any family dinners or be associated with the household name, and I’ll have to make due on my own in terms of fortune and stability. I know the protocol, Yuta.”
“And you think I’ll just let that happen to you? That I’ll leave you to die on your own when you don’t even know if there’s a future with Jaehyun?”
You fidget around in your seat, growing even more afraid to confess to Yuta about your tether to Jaehyun.
“I’ve- um, I’ve let Jae release in me multiple times now. I cast the childbearing charm every day and there’s no baby yet, but we’re hoping it will happen to us soon.”
You look up to see his reaction, and you’ve never seen him more heartbroken.
“So that’s it, then? You’ve already made the decision without me?”
“Yuta,” you plead, rising to your feet and gripping his hands. “Even if we did get married and followed everything according to plan, I don’t think I could put our children through this. I can’t stand to see them accept the same fate we did and carry it on to our grandchildren. Could you?”
He shakes his head. “Our morals are not what’s important. What’s important is the safety of the bloodline and ensuring that the future of wizardry-“
“You and I both know you don’t believe in any of that shit,” you interrupt his useless speech. “I see the way you look at Soojin. I know you won’t admit it to me but I can tell you want a different future too. Help me break this ridiculous curse together.”
He rests his forehead on yours and sighs, pulling you into his arms. You wrap your hands around his middle and cry into his shoulder.
“You know I’ll protect you no matter what it takes,” he hums, stroking your back softly. “If you want to be with him, I’m not going to stop you.”
You sniffle and hug him tighter. The pair of you stand there for a while, enjoying each other’s presence. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to have a heart-to-heart with Yuta, and it reminds you of why you trust him.
He breaks the silence first.
“I think I know a way to make sure you don’t lose everything.”
You pull away from him, tilting your head in confusion.
“How?”
“How fast can you get pregnant?”
—
Jihyo has a huge smirk on her face when Jaehyun finally returns to Quidditch practice. He narrows his eyes at her, expecting her to be completely on edge with the Quidditch Cup finals tomorrow.
“What’s with the look?”
She smiles from ear to ear, twirling her broom in her hand like a ditzy schoolgirl.
“A little birdie told me who you’ve been so pussydrunk for.”
His head snaps to the side. “Johnny!”
The man to blame throws his hands up in the air and claims his innocence.
“Look at you, sly dog!” Jihyo giggles. “Who knew you had the hots for the Slytherin queen?”
“Can we just start practice?”
She gives him one last hip bump before calling a huddle. “My gorgeous team, I first want to tell you how proud I am of you. I’ve seen firsthand how hard each and every one of you have worked this year, despite certain personal obstacles.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes when she throws him a wink. “But our fight is not finished! The ultimate battle is against us this weekend, but I have no doubt we’ll beat all odds. So let’s give everything into this practice and pretend there are hundreds of screaming fans in those seats, waiting for you to carry us to victory! And for my lovely seventh years, don’t forget that recruiters will actually be in those stands on game day. This is our last chance to prove that we will be the greatest Quidditch players of our generation! Let’s fucking go!”
With Jihyo’s hurrah, the Gryffindor team launches into one of the most intense practice games they’ve had all year. Jaehyun finally feels like himself again, especially after you let him eat you out right before he left. His body is tingling with excitement, and it’s only thirty minutes into practice when he spots the Snitch.
He manages to catch it in a new record time for him, thrusting his balled fist in the air to signal victory. The rest of the team laughs as they descend to the ground, joining together for one more hug.
“Now, I want everyone to get a good night’s sleep tonight. Tomorrow, we will take home the victory for Gryffindor!”
Jaehyun immediately runs to find you after practice, kissing you as soon as he locates you in the Potions room. You squeak when he suddenly grabs you, embracing you in his arms.
“J-Jae-“ you try to say while he mouths at your neck. Your eyes widen when he shifts down to his knees, pulling up your skirt. “Jae, you just ate me out two hours ago.”
“Mmm, it’s been too long, baby.”
You smile and run your fingers through his tousled locks. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur, watching him pull your panties down to your ankles.
He hums and licks a stripe up your cunt, causing you to moan. You can tell he’s barely listening to you, tongue slurping at your folds.
“Jaehyun,” you say his name again, hoping it will garner some sort of attention. “I told Yuta about us.”
That makes him pause. He pulls his head out from under your skirt.
“And?”
“He has some sort of plan to help us,” you tell him, thumb swiping the corner of his lips that’s covered in your juices.
Since Jaehyun wants to actually listen to you now, he replaces his tongue with his fingers, easily sliding two into your cunt with no warning. You whine and throw your head back, his dark gaze drinking up your moans.
“What’s he going to do?”
You struggle to form a coherent sentence when his fingers curl inside of you. “I-I don’t k-know,” you stutter. “He just said I need to get pregnant.”
His fingers quickly withdraw from your pussy and you’re flipped around, hands landing on one of the desks to catch yourself. You hear the metal clink of his belt buckle and you cry when he lines himself up to your entrance, slowly pushing in.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”
“You didn’t give me a chance!”
He fucks you hard and rough, pulling at the strands of your hair until your scalp is burning. Your thighs ache from the force of his thrusts while Jaehyun goes wild at the sight of your creamy pussy forming a base around his cock. Your poor little cunt is begging for a break since he literally gave you three orgasms before he went to Quidditch practice.
He releases deep inside your pussy, his thick cum filling your womb.
“Always milk me dry, baby,” he says, hands moving to massage your hips.
You blink twice when you realize he’s still hard inside of you.
“Jae, those recruits will be at the Quidditch tournament tomorrow. You have to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Just a few more rounds and I’ll go to bed, baby. I promise.”
True to his word, he pounds you for another few hours before finally pulling out. You’re completely plugged full of his cum, some of it dripping out as soon as his cock leaves your pussy.
You stand with shaky legs and he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.
“Love you,” he whispers.
Jaehyun told you he loves you pretty quickly after you first got together. You insisted on him taking his time to think about it, unsure if he actually loved you or if he was just seeing you through rose-colored glasses.
Since then, he’s told you he loves you every single day. He hopes one day you’ll start believing him.
“You should get some rest. I’ll clean myself up, but you need to be prepared for tomorrow or else Jihyo will have your head.”
“Don’t be silly,” he chastises. “I’ll clean you up. Why don’t you come back with me to the Gryffindor dorms? I’ll sneak you in.”
You roll your eyes. “You just want to take me back there so we can go another round.”
He pouts. “Maybe two.”
“Jaehyun.”
“Fine,” he sighs like he’s been assigned the worst task in the world. “Let me clean you up and I’ll go to bed. One last thing though.”
He drags you to the cauldron, which is still filled with the latest Amortentia batch.
“What do you smell, baby?”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “You know I smell you.”
He grins. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
—
You’re shaking on the morning of the Quidditch Cup tournament.
Since you started sleeping with Jaehyun, you’ve been casting a childbearing charm every morning to see if there are any signs of you being pregnant. Every time, the charm has shown you a red light over your stomach to signal that you are not with child.
This is the first day the red light has shifted to a warm orange color.
You gasp when you see it. The orange hue displays a little dot the size of a tiny bean, barely kicking in your stomach.
You stand in front of the mirror for several minutes, unable to take your eyes off of this new sign of life.
Your baby. Jaehyun’s baby.
Once you come to your senses, you hastily throw on one of Jaehyun’s spare Gryffindor jerseys and rush downstairs. You have a one track mind as you run to the Quidditch pitch, not stopping until you see the locker rooms in sight.
Jihyo is the first one to spot you, grabbing hold of your shoulders just as you’re about to enter.
“Woah, tiger! What’s got you in such a hurry?” Her mouth twists into a smirk. “In a rush to see Jaehyun?”
You huff. “I’m surprised you’re not shitting bricks right now.”
“Trust me, I am,” she sighs. “But if I think about it too much, I’ll combust in the middle of the field.”
“You’re going to do great,” you assure, embracing her. “Greatest captain Gryffindor’s ever seen.”
She exhales again as she hugs you. “I sure hope so.” You pull away and she’s back to wearing a smirk. “Now you wish our star player good luck. I’ll clear the room for you scoundrels.”
“You’re a menace.”
She does, in fact, scream at everyone to leave so that you can speak to Jaehyun. You find him in the back of the room near the showers, muttering to himself quietly.
“You got this. Just go out there and show them why you deserve to be on this team.”
You giggle into the palm of your hand. “Do you give this pep talk to yourself before every game?”
He spins around at the sound of your voice, lighting up like a Christmas tree at the sight of you. He hurries over to pull you into his arms, smacking your cheek with a big kiss.
“Hi, baby. Come to wish me good luck?”
You grin. “That, and a little something else.”
He nearly purrs. “We have five minutes if you want to go a round.”
“How are you always this horny?”
He whines into your neck. “You made me this way, baby.”
You carefully take his hand and ignore his confused gaze. You lift your Gryffindor jersey and gently place his hand on your stomach.
You wait for his brain to add two and two together, and when he finally realizes what you’re trying to tell him, his eyes well with tears.
“Are you-“
You nod, chewing on your lower lip nervously.
He kisses you hard, pulling you as close to him as he possibly can. “I love you,” he whispers. “Do you believe me now? I love you.”
You can’t wipe the smile off of your face if you try.
“I love you too. Now go win that game for us.”
You find Yuta in the stands shortly after you leave Jaehyun, hands intertwined with Soojin. He smiles at you when you approach, gesturing for you to take the seat next to him.
“Hi, you two,” you greet happily, ignoring the blatant stares from your classmates at the sight of you dressed head to toe in red and gold. Soojin is stunned by your acknowledgment, still getting used to you speaking to her.
“You’re a happy camper today,” he says amusedly, noting how your grin stays permanently etched on your face.
You lean closer and speak quietly. “I finished your first step of the plan.”
His head whips around, and he’s more shocked than you’ve ever seen him.
“You’re-“
You nod.
He laughs loudly, enveloping you in a hug.
“You’re insane. I literally told you to get pregnant yesterday.”
“I told you Jaehyun’s crazy.”
Soojin watches the exchange unfold, not wanting to pry into your personal business. She’s startled when Yuta turns back to her and brings her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently.
You’re delighted by watching them, thrilled to see Yuta letting his guard down.
Your focus shifts back to the game when the whistle is blown. You spot Jaehyun from his place high in the air, eyes darting around in an attempt to catch any glimpse of the Golden Snitch. You’re enamored by seeing him in his element, and you can’t deny he looks incredibly attractive from this angle.
Your mouth waters at the thought of swallowing his cock while he balances himself on his broom.
Maybe you were the horny one in this relationship.
Yuta would later tell you that the match was one of the best games he’s ever seen, with both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw battling it out to the death. You, however, were too focused on your Gryffindor Seeker floating higher than eye level. It wasn’t your fault he looked so pretty.
You eventually grow excited when you see Jaehyun finally zooming past you, eyes locked on the Snitch that was practically invisible to the students in the crowd. You scream when his hand tightly grasps it, ending the game and securing the Quidditch Cup win for Gryffindor.
You probably look like a lunatic in the stands, yelling and jumping for Jaehyun’s win despite being surrounded by the majority of Slytherin house, who were all rooting for Gryffindor to lose. A blushing Yuta even has to pull you down to save his embarrassment.
You push your way through the spectators to head to the pitch, body thrumming with excitement. Jaehyun opens his arms when he sees you, and you jump into them, almost knocking the both of you to the ground.
“My pretty girl,” he coos in your ear.
“You did amazing!” You praise him. “I’m so proud of you.”
He kisses you deeply, hands circled around your waist tightly. The sound of cheers and screams turn dull in your ears — the only thing you can focus on is the velvet of Jaehyun’s lips.
All you know is that you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and you never want this feeling to slip away.
—
“There’s a clause in our contract. It’s been written up since the day we were born, and our parents signed it through an Unbreakable Vow. I’ve read that thing front and back since we turned eight years old. If there’s one piece I remember from that contract, it has a section that details what’s to happen if a pregnancy occurs.”
You furrow your eyebrows. Yuta looks smug from his spot across from you and Jaehyun, like a detective who has just cracked the case.
After Gryffindor’s win yesterday, Jaehyun was approached by a recruiter from the Montrose Magpies, offering him a full-time position as their new Seeker. You and Jaehyun celebrated with an extremely tiring night with lots of drinking, crying, and plenty of orgasms. Jihyo also cried with you, receiving her own commitment with the Holyhead Harpies.
When morning rolled around, you both decided to confront Yuta in the Great Hall about his big plan before you had to face your family for the holidays.
“A pregnancy clause? I don’t remember reading that.”
“That’s because it was always blacked out on your side of the contract,” Yuta points out. “Fucking sexists, of course, they never wanted you to find out.”
“Find out what, exactly?” Jaehyun asks, also deeply confused.
“The contract says in the event of you getting pregnant, all titles and birthrights would immediately be transferred to your heir. The part they never added in, though, was if the baby had to be mine.”
You straighten your spine. “So you’re saying-“
“I’m saying that your little bundle of joy just saved you from having to relinquish your household name. Under the Unbreakable Vow, whatever belongs to your parents has to pass on to your child, regardless of the baby having Nakamoto blood or not.”
You lock eyes with Jaehyun, both of you grinning widely.
“We get to be together,” he says incredulously, as if he can’t believe it himself.
“We get to be together,” you repeat, laughing to yourself out of pure joy.
“You get to be together,” Yuta smiles at the both of you. “And I’m not letting either of our parents take that away from you. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you, Yuta,” Jaehyun says genuinely. “We owe you our lives.”
“No need for dramatics,” Yuta waves him off. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your girlfriend standing up for herself.”
You lean over to kiss Jaehyun and Yuta scratches the back of his head awkwardly.
“Please don’t finger her in front of me again.”
You giggle and Jaehyun swings an arm over your shoulder, lips pressing against your cheek.
“Don’t worry. That view is for my eyes only now.”
The last item on your to-do list before you have to face your parents is to turn in your Amortentia assignment. You walk hand-in-hand with Jaehyun into the Potions room, ignoring the curious whispers and the one holler of encouragement from Johnny.
You stand blissfully in front of your designated cauldron, trying to push back the fact that you and Jaehyun have defiled this room more times than you can count. As the professor goes around the room to grade your projects, you clutch Jaehyun’s arm and smile up at him.
“I love you.”
He kisses your forehead, staring at you with pure devotion written in his eyes.
“I love you too, baby. Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
“Thank you for waiting for me to realize that you’re worth it.”
Your professor finally lands in front of you, beaming at the sight of your close proximity.
“Now what do we have here?” He laughs. “I guess the potion worked the best for you two. Let’s hear your progress.”
“She had a great amount of development, professor,” Jaehyun shares. “My scents have stayed the same since the first week.”
“I see,” he chuckles. “And how has that worked out?”
“You gave us a dream we didn’t think was possible,” you murmur, orbs twinkling with glee. “So it’s safe to say this assignment was a success for us.”
“That’s precisely what I wanted to hear. Well done you two, and congrats on the new coupling.”
You squeeze Jaehyun’s arm again, pulling him down once more to press your lips to his. His hand darts out to rest on your stomach, and although your child is barely the size of a pea, you hope they know that you already love them unconditionally.
A new beginning awaits you both and you’re ready to face it against all odds.
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capquinn · 6 months ago
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A Closeness | Q. Hughes
summary: the lake house has never felt smaller. moments alone become something of the past. but after longing touches here and gentle caresses there, quinn seizes an opportunity. pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: fluff, mild smut (v vanilla

.seriously) word count: 3k note: the smut is for sure tame but it still had me blushing lmao enjoy!!! â†Ș masterlist
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
The off-season had finally arrived and so had summer in Michigan.
Days spent on the water with rosy sunburnt cheeks and friends turned into nights in the garden basking in the glow of a deep orange sunset and warm flickering shadows of the bonfire. Drinks poured and secrets spilled under starry skies that echo with celebrations of the hockey season and despondent mumblings of what it could have been. The conversations oscillate between just the two for the first three nights and then on the fourth night, there is a sense of normalcy. Just a bunch of friends engaged in animated conversations about some silly gossip, voices rising and falling like the rhythm of waves lapping at the shore by the pier. Hockey long forgotten. At least for a little while. 
But even in the midst of his friends, Quinn’s attention is mostly on you. 
So when your laughter punctuates the night air, Quinn turns his head, distracted from his own conversation. You’re standing with Jack by the cooler, nursing the same glass of wine that he had poured you an hour ago, and sharing an inside joke. 
A small smile plays on his lips, and a warm feeling washes over him. You fit into his life seamlessly, and every once in a while, the universe conspires to remind him of just that. 
He excuses himself and falls in place next to you, hand naturally slipping to lay rested on your waist. You lean into him without letting it disrupt the flow of conversation except only when Quinn leans down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. You pause briefly, glancing up to meet his eyes. Love you too. And then you’re bouncing back into conversation, enjoying the way he traces soothing circles onto bare skin under the hem of your t-shirt. 
That’s how the evening continued. The moments ebb and flow, never going far at all. Returning with small touches here and tender caresses there that nobody seemed to notice
 all whispering that he just wanted you near.
That’s when you finally retreat to the edge of the gathering to share a single deck chair. Nestled on his lap, head resting on his shoulder, finding solace in the quiet spaces between words. Fingers trace idle shapes down his arm, and he responds with a kiss to your shoulder. The world fades away around you both; you’re existing within your own reverie. 
But after a while, your glass of something sweet and bubbly now empty, you let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll be back,” you whisper, untangling yourself from his body, clasping an empty wineglass. 
As your feet meet the grass, Quinn is grasping at your free hand to keep you close. 
“Baby,” he whines quietly in a way he only does when he’s buzzed. It’s still early in the evening and you are halfway there yourself. “Where are you going now?” 
“Need more wine,” you giggle quietly, sinking back into him, wrapping an arm around his neck. 
He shakes his head, disapproving of your answer. “Stay with me,” he tells you, arm snaking back around your waist and hand laying firm against your stomach. “It’s the first time they’ve left us alone,” he states, nodding his head towards your guests.
Hosting your friends had been a great idea. And it still is. Sort of. But with so many of them all here at once, you were both already exhausted. Quinn misses the silence and having his own space. Not used to sharing living quarters with fifteen other people after living in an apartment with just you for the last two years. Because with every turn, there’s another familiar face trying to get a piece of you both. To ask how to use the dishwasher or how to use the washing machine. Where’s the TV remote? To chat and hang out during every awake moment of the day. And the damn teasing that never stopped. Small comments here and shared jokes there whenever Quinn tried to show any form of fondness towards you. Friends unused to seeing their buddy engage in public displays of affection. He’s an easy target so he’s the master of his own undoing, really. Blushing and rolling his eyes, and then snapping back with a witty remark in response that did a poor job of hiding his slight embarrassment over being the centre of attention. A man but with all the awkward boyish charm that made his friends howl with laughter every time. Regardless, never did Quinn imagine that you would both be surrounded by this many people at all times. 
A moment passes and then there is a soft murmur, lips brushing against your ear. “Love you so much.”
You turn your head slightly to look at him. Firelight dances in those green eyes, shimmering and intoxicating. And you forget to breathe, enraptured. It doesn’t help matters when he licks his pillowy pink lips. He’s practically begging you to kiss him boldly right here in front of all his friends. But you don’t and instead, the years are thrown back and suddenly you’re both twenty-one again, listening to him confess that he loves you for the very first time right here on this very lawn with those very same loving eyes. 
It had been a lazy summer evening and the house was brimming with the energy of family and fiends, but you had both slipped away to the quiet of the lawn. Sprawled out over a faded plaid picnic rug with the golden glow of a setting sun reflecting over the water. Air warm, filled with the distant chirping of crickets. You had been lying side by side, staring up at emerging stars in silence. Quinn had turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes tender. And then you felt the change in the night air, the way his gaze made your heart start to race. 
He cleared his throat. “You know,” he began, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now.”
Curiosity piqued, a small smile played on your lips. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 
He had taken a deep breath, eyes flickering between yours and the lake as if searching for a bout of courage in the still waters. “I
 uh, well, I love you.” The words tumbled out in a rush, awkward and unpolished, and he immediately bit his lip, cheeks reddened. 
You’re snapped back to reality as Quinn lolls his head to the side with a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his sun kissed cheeks. An amused twinkle in his eyes, noting your obvious lovesick gaze. But he can hardly blame you. He often found himself staring at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky. 
There is a soft chuckle and then he’s reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, sending shivers right down your spine. And finally, he’s kissing you. Paying no attention to whether or not his friends are watching, and frankly, at this point, he really doesn’t care if they are. 
“Wanna get out of here?” He mumbles against the corner of your mouth, glancing around to see if you were able to sneak off without anyone noticing. 
It seems likely. Jack is yapping on the other side of the fire, animatedly recounting a story with just enough drama that it’s keeping most of the group entertained, and off to your side, a seperate group of friends are bickering competitively over a card game. 
In silent understanding, you untangle yourselves and discard the empty beverages on the grass beside the deck chair, and with practiced ease, you slip away from the group. Departure unnoticed. 
Thank God, Quinn thinks to himself, intertwining your hands as you cross the lawn towards the lake house looming ahead. He’s not sure how much longer he could have feigned interest in the party. He loves his buddies, don’t get him wrong, but at this point, he’d do anything for just five minutes alone. 
When the sounds of the party fade and your giggles mingle with the chirping of crickets and rustling of leaves in trees, it becomes Quinn’s very own private symphony. He can’t resist pulling you close, capturing your lips in a kiss. 
“Been waiting to get you alone all night,” he says, voice low and husky, velvety against your skin.
You smile against his lips. “I thought we were just getting away from the mosquitoes,” you tease. 
“Well, that too,” he grins. Quinn pecks a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “But mostly ‘cause I’m sick of sharing you with everyone else.”
All week long every corner of this house has been occupied. Every room, every spare sofa. The deck chairs during the morning, and the sun loungers on the pier during the afternoon. The kitchen brimmed with life at all hours of the day with friends cooking, eating and talking late into the night, and it was becoming a battle for bathroom privileges, too. Even his favourite spot in the hammock was taken up by somebody new at every sunset. 
The house has never felt smaller. 
And then you’re stumbling down the hallway in that very same house, kisses growing more urgent and heated in a way that makes it difficult to move forward.
Hands roaming over each other’s bodies like you’re mapping territory. And there’s strength in Quinn’s embrace. The controlled power that made you feel safe and cherished all the same. 
You barely make it through the bedroom door, lips never parting. His fingers fumble with the lock before you’re even inside and then it’s swinging shut behind you with a thud.
“Finally,” Quinn mutters against your skin.
“We’ve got to be quick, okay?” You tell him. It wouldn’t be long until the fire turns to hot coals and your friends decide to call it a night. He only hums in response. “Quinn, I’m serious.”
He grins into the kiss. “Okay. I promise.”
You tug Quinn’s tee over his head and press palms against his back, feeling every dip and curve of his roping muscles. You lean in closer, chest flush with his. 
Quinn slowly moves his mouth across your cheek
along your jaw
moving lower, grazing against sensitive skin right over your pulse point. 
“Oh,” you gasp, melting into his body, and hands finding their way into his hair.
Fingers drop down your sides, gripping greedily at the material of your sweater and he pushes it up enough so he can make a start on unbuttoning your shorts. Before he even has a chance to remove the garment himself, you’re clutching hastily at the sweater, which is really just Quinn’s that he had given up trying to get back, and pull it from your frame. 
He stands back for a brief moment once you’re almost undressed, taking you all in. He thinks you’re so
 so

“So pretty,” he murmurs, pulling you in to meet your lips again. 
He steps back, dragging you with him, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he’s sinking down into the softness. You’re standing between his knees, clutching onto him for dear life. Afraid you’ll topple over if he ever lets you go. Dizzy with anticipation.
He presses an open mouth kiss to your sternum
a few more around your belly
 and then he’s making his way back up to your chest to give the swell of your breasts some attention. 
Your arms wrap around Quinn’s neck, head lolling back as the goose bumps raise across your skin.
“Your shorts
” you choke out, trying to hurry things along despite every fibre of your being eager to keep this going deep into the night. 
He drops his hands to the waistband of his shorts and peels it from his skin, and then he starts tugging at the waistband of your panties, dropping spongy kisses to your waist as the cotton slackens and falls to the floor. 
And when they do, you’re rushing to fill the space between you and straddle his hips. Lips meet in soft collision; slow and deliberate, but it’s desperate all the same. Warm hands trace the curve of your back, coaxing quiet moans to fall from your lips when your hips start rocking into him. Quinn relaxes into the mattress some more and in quick succession, you’re suddenly on your back and he’s between your thighs, mouth pressed against yours, hot and frantic. Chest to chest. Hips moving in long, drawn out strokes.
And then your lips are parting slightly, long enough for him to say, “fuck, I’ve missed this,” each second stretching to an eternity.
You pat his back when he starts to scatter kisses below your ear, thrusts slowing to a halt, trying to hurry him along. There is nothing you want less than to face your friends in the morning if they happen to hear any of this. “Quinn,” you whisper, a plea and reprimand all in one. “They’ll be back soon.”
Lips travel along your jaw and down your neck again, and your hands tangle through his hair, pulling him closer even as you try to remind him of reality. But reality feels far away. Banished by the heat that is building in this moonlit bedroom. 
Hands run down your side and dig into your waist before hitching one of your legs over his hip, and he rolls into your body deliberately slow. Again and again. Eliciting sweet sound after sweet sound from your pretty little mouth, hot breath against his neck, and it’s driving him wild. 
He shivers. The feeling of you beneath him, body arching into his touch. It’s intoxicating. He just wants to lose himself in this moment and forget everything else. To etch it into memory. Every second, every heartbeat. Warm skin and quiet moans. The smell of your shampoo with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. It fuses together into a heady mix which makes it hard to think or care about anything else.
But you won’t let him forget where you are.
You push his hair out of his eyes and caress his cheek, bringing his face up from your neck, eyes locking for a heartbeat before you kiss him. “I really hate to rush this but—” you start to say, lips lingering over his.
“Then don’t,” he mutters, cutting you short. He runs a hand up and down your torso before pinning your body to the mattress with a hand on your waist. He grinds into you again, still deliciously slow. Savouring it. And if you didn’t know any better, he’s teasing you.
And then he sits up so he’s kneeling between your thighs, and your legs fall around him. He rubs his shoulder with his chin, trying to hide a smirk but it’s there despite his efforts. “Why are you thinking about them anyway? Should be thinking about me,” he tells you, hips grinding into yours, abs clenching. 
You bite back a grin, teeth sinking into your swollen bottom lip. “Trust me, I am thinking about you. But if our friends come back and hear us, I’ll be thinking about murder.”
A chuckle vibrates through Quinn’s chest. “Fair point,” he concedes, leaning over you so your chests are flush. Lips finds yours again, demanding your attention.
With the snapping of his hips, rhythm quickening, you give it to him. Stars blurring your vision. Hands roaming fevered skin, tracing the contours of his body with a reverence of desperation. Ache bubbling under your skin. Breaths coming out in ragged gasps. 
“Quinn,” you say through gritted teeth between a moan, nails scraping down his back, overcome with a storm of sensations. The friction. The pressure. It’s all too much. 
It spurs him on. Driving him to the edge of sanity and back again, chasing the elusive promise of release. And you’re no different. Clasping at the sheets, struggling to hold on. His movements grow more frantic with each passing second. The short, sharp whimpers you’re letting fall from your lips push him back to the precipice. 
He shifts slightly, adjusting his angle, and suddenly hits a spot so divine that you’re unable to spare a word. The stars behind your eyes becoming more vivid as you surrender to the ecstasy that pulses between you both, a tempest that rages unchecked in the darkness. Through the haze, you hear the telltale sound of heavy footsteps on the patio, signalling the return of your friends.
“We’re gonna get caught,” you gasp, very much aware that you’re stating the obvious, panicked. Nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders, urging him on even as you try to anchor him to reality. 
Quinn's breath hitches, a low, guttural moan escaping as he teeters on the brink. "Baby, I'm—," his voice breaks. Deep and throaty moans reverberate through you, skin to skin, chest to chest. A plea for something that hovers just out of reach. “Almost there. Just a little more,” he whispers into your ear, voice a low and soothing murmur despite the urgency in his tone. 
The world around you blurs. 
Quinn’s breathing hitches again and he shudders, thrusts stuttering, and it’s the final push you need. His pleasure your catalyst. And with one last final desperate roll into your body, the coil of tension snaps and a wave of ecstasy washes over you both. 
Starlight swapping for solar flares. 
“Baby,” he whines and you wonder if he knows that he’s only making it harder for you to stay quiet.
The room spins. Eyes stinging. Mind blanking. Toes curling. Your fingers grasp at his hair, knuckles white. His head tucked into the crook of your neck, mouth pressed against your skin. Trying your damn hardest to keep your voices low but it’s hard. It’s raw. His teeth scrape over your throat as he grinds his jaw, groaning deeply. The waves keep crashing until it dissolves into nothing but heaving chests. His breath, your exhale. 
There’s low murmurs in the hallway on the other side of the bedroom door. Footsteps shuffle on hardwood floors and then there are more heavy footsteps as whoever it is begins climbing the stairs.
“You promised we’d be quick,” you remind him, touching lips to the corner of his parted mouth.
Quinn chuckles softly, a playful glint in his eyes. He kisses you breathlessly, and then rolls off of you, crashing into the pillows. “That was quick,” he defends, feigning innocence. 
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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 1 month ago
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Don't mind me, just jumping into your asks. 😄
I had an idea/prompt for you! (Obviously you don't have to write it.) OT8 x fem is preferred but please, go nuts!! Thank you!!
*p.s. I am addicted to your writing works. I can't wait to see what you come up with!*
"His/their arms did what her sleeping pills couldn't."
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𝕐𝕠𝕩𝕣 𝕞đ•Ș đ•—đ•’đ•§đ• đ•Šđ•Łđ•šđ•„đ•– ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕝
Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff
Summary: Request!
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
"Have you been sleeping?" Felix asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence in the kitchen. They were enjoying an afternoon snack that Leeknow had prepared for them after classes—a simple spread of sandwiches and fruit, but it felt warm and cozy.
Y/N sighed, taking a slow bite of the sandwich she was holding. If it weren’t for Lee Know insisting she eat something, she would probably be passed out from exhaustion by now. The weight of late-night studying and looming deadlines pressed down on her.
"Yes, I have. Just a lot of studying to do," she lied, trying to sound convincing.
"Hm? Are you sure?" Felix pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew her too well to buy into her facade.
"Yes, Felix, now drop it," she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. Felix's face fell, and he pouted, his bottom lip jutting out in that adorable way that always made her heart soften.
"I was just asking. I didn’t mean to upset you—"
"Well, you are, so just leave me alone," she retorted, frustration spilling over. She knew she wasn’t angry at him; it was just that the exhaustion and irritability were clouding her thoughts. She hated taking it out on him.
"Fine," he replied, his expression clouding over as he frowned again. He stood up slowly, taking his plate with him, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen.
As he left, Y/N felt a pang of guilt settle in her stomach. She knew she needed to let him in, but right now, the weight of her fatigue felt like too much to bear.
She let out another frustrated sigh before putting away her empty plate and trudging toward her room, but she was soon interrupted by Seungmin, who playfully pulled her to the couch.
"Can you just listen to this?" he pleaded, handing her an AirPod. She sighed again, knowing she had just snapped at Felix and didn’t want to take her frustration out on anyone else.
"Y/N?" Seungmin called, snapping her out of her thoughts. She realized she had totally zoned out and barely heard the demo of the song he was working on.
"Did you like it?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
A pang of guilt washed over her, but she decided to lie again. "Yes, I did. It's amazing, Seungmin," she replied with a strained smile, handing him back the AirPod.
"That’s it?" he asked, looking confused. "Usually, you give me more details on where I can improve," he pouted, crossing his arms.
"W-well, maybe it’s just perfect, okay? Can we do this later, Seungmin? I promise I'll give you my full attention," Y/N begged. Her body ached, her head thumped like a bass drum, and her eyes felt like they were on fire. She could hardly keep herself upright.
"Are you sick? You look awful," Seungmin remarked, reaching out to check her forehead.
"Geez! Thanks. Means a lot," she grumbled, snatching her backpack and turning to leave.
"That's not what I meant—Y/N—wait!" But she was already in the hallway, refusing to look back.
It was as if the universe conspired against her because just as she was about to walk into her room, she was unexpectedly pulled into Hyunjin’s room.
"There you are! My favorite girl!" Hyunjin beamed, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "How was school?"
Horrible. Disgusting. Tiring. Frustrating.
"Good," she replied flatly, forcing a smile.
"Great! So can I borrow you for tonight?" he asked, spinning her around and playfully carrying her toward the bed.
"Hyunjin..." she sighed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I really wish we could go to the gallery, but I'm swamped with studying and—"
"Hey, baby!" Changbin interrupted, bursting into the room. "I was looking for you. Sorry to interrupt, but are we still on for the gym in 30?" His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She had totally forgotten!
Why does everyone want something from me today? she thought, feeling overwhelmed.
"Binnie..." she sighed again, tears welling in her eyes.
"God, I’m the worst girlfriend ever!" she huffed, her emotions boiling over. Without waiting for a response, she stormed out of the room and rushed to her own, knowing better than to lock it—Chan’s rules, after all.
She decided to lock her door and take a breather from everything. It wasn’t long before Changbin and Hyunjin knocked, but there was no response.
"Do you know what’s going on?" Changbin whispered to Hyunjin, concern on his face.
"No idea
 maybe we should give her some space?" Hyunjin suggested, though neither wanted to leave her alone. They knew how she could shut down during tough times.
"I'll text Leeknow," Changbin decided, and they headed to the living room.
Meanwhile, Y/N felt overwhelmed. The pressure of school and her relationships weighed heavily on her. She tried to take a nap to recharge for the evening with her boyfriends, but sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind raced with thoughts of assignments, exams, and the expectations she felt from everyone around her.
"Forget this..." she whispered, pushing herself up and deciding to study instead. She shuffled to her desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes. Despite her exhaustion and the tears threatening to spill, she forced herself to focus on the pages in front of her.
Time slipped away, and she lost track of how long she had been studying when a loud knock startled her. "Y/N? You know I don’t like it when people lock doors," Chan called from outside, his voice a mix of concern and gentle authority.
It was 8:57, and she rubbed her eyes before reluctantly unlocking the door.
There stood Chan, looking concerned. Was he going to scold her?
"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, stepping inside.
She managed a small smile as he wrapped her in a warm hug. It felt so comforting that it made her wonder why she had been short with those she cared about. The weight of the world seemed to lift for a moment as she leaned into him.
"Channie... I’m so tired," she whispered into his shoulder.
"I know baby, shhh, it’s okay," he soothed, laying them both on the bed. He glanced around the room, noticing scattered books and an almost empty container of sleeping pills.
"Having trouble sleeping again?" he asked, worry in his voice.
"Mmhm," she sniffled.
"How long?" he continued, rubbing her back gently.
"Eight days..." she admitted, feeling shame wash over her.
"Eight days?!" he exclaimed, shocked that she was even functioning.
"I was going to tell one of you, but we’re all stressed with exams, and you have your comeback soon. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it," she cried, her voice breaking.
Chan let out a frustrated sigh. He cared deeply; that much was clear.
"What did I say about thinking for others?" he gently scolded. "What if I wasn’t busy? You can’t decide for me or the others when we’re available. Eight days isn’t healthy, and if I tell Leeknow, he’ll worry."
She lets out a whimper as the memory of how the last visit went. She had to be hooked up to many machines and monitors each monitoring her sleeping and to see what was wrong. She was exhausted for 12 hours straight in the hospital. "I’m sorry, please don’t tell him."
"Only if you promise to come to me whenever you’re struggling, okay?" he said, kissing her forehead and picking up the nearly empty container of pills. "How many have you taken? Are they not working?"
"It doesn’t work," she admitted, burying her head into his shoulder, feeling ashamed. "I tried taking three each night—"
"Three?! No way, Y/N, that’s not good for you, Please tell me you don’t feel sick."
"I don’t; I just feel cranky."
"Is that why you snapped at Felix?" he asked gently.
"Y-yeah. I should apologize to him," she said, avoiding his gaze.
"Hey, look at me," he said softly, kissing her cheek. "I know it gets tiring, but you have to communicate, okay? Wash up, and we can watch a movie downstairs. The boys are worried. Han's about to lose it. He's about to escape the restraints Leeknow put on him."
"Oh no," she giggled for the first time in a while. "Not time out!"
"I missed that smile," he said gripping at her waist.
"I thought I had to wash up?" she teased, feeling a bit lighter.
"Yah! Is it wrong to love my girlfriend? I already have to share you with those 7 idiots, Let me enjoy this," Chan said dramatically, pulling her close. He let her straddle his lap and both their core's lightly touched one another.
Another giggle escaped her lips as she leaned in for a quick kiss, feeling warmth spread through her despite her lingering exhaustion.
It did indeed take her longer to enter the shower, mainly because Chan was so committed to making her feel good. Basically she got the best head of her life. When she finally made her way downstairs to the theater, she was immediately tackled by Han, who showered her with kisses.
"I'm so sorry I didn't notice you felt this way! I should have paid more attention. I love you. Do you love me?" he exclaimed, his voice full of concern and affection.
"I love you, Han, and it isn’t your fault. I promise, bub," she replied, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Changbin, who was nearby, chimed in, "I’m sorry for pushing you earlier, babe," as he handed her a takeout plate, realizing Han wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
"You don’t need to apologize, love. I should be the one apologizing for not communicating and just shutting down. I hope you all can forgive me; I haven’t been the best partner," she confessed, her voice a bit shaky.
"Oh hush!" Hyunjin interjected with a warm smile before giving her a kiss on the forehead and heading to his seat. "No need to apologize; we all have our moments."
"Yeah, he’s right. Totally forgotten," Seungmin added, snuggling into Hyunjin's side, a comfortable warmth radiating between them.
She turned to Felix, her heart racing a bit as she hoped he wasn’t angry. "Lix?"
"I could never be mad at you," he said softly, climbing by her side and planting gentle kisses on her cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you too," she replied, feeling her heart swell with gratitude.
The rest of the night was filled with lighthearted conversations and a movie. Everyone eventually drifted off to sleep, and she felt a profound sense of peace wash over her.
"Come on," Chan whispered, gently pulling her out of I.N and Han's grip. They let out little whines but soon settled back into slumber. She crawled onto Chan's lap, and he whispered soothing words to her while rubbing her back.
"Remember to always find me when your lost."
This was her happy place. As her eyes began to close and her breathing evened out, Chan placed a tender kiss on her forehead and held her close, ready to keep her safe until she woke up.
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3
A/N: Thank you @idoubleswearimawriter!!
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calisources · 9 months ago
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences and quotes have been taken from different media about starcrossed lovers or forbidden love, full of angst, some bold words, some nasty ones, possessive nature and letting someone use you as a replacement. So, some toxic energy in this one. Change pronouns, locations and names as you see fit.
I love you,and I will love you until I die,and if there's a life after that,I'll love you then.
Do people always fall in love with things they can't have?
And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.
I'm falling in love with you.
I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. I have waited for this for such a long time. Consequences be damned.
These violent delights have violent ends.
 I’m only human. And you are 
all-consuming.
Don’t go into this lightly. If you’re mine, you need to understand I will burn the fucking world to the ground for you.
I will never let you go, do you hear me? 
 will keep you safe. And I will find a way for us to be together.
If you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.
If you were any less the man you are, I would beg you to take me with you.
If you were any less the woman you were, I would beg you to come with me.
I've known lust. This is something worse. This is a barbaric need to possess, to eliminate, to own. This is madness.
This is lust.
She’s your very own forbidden fruit.
You said you didn't want this.
We all desire what we cannot have.
Have you noticed how the boy looks at you?
Do you think I didn’t notice? The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching?
You are dangerous desire, and I am your prisoner.
We can’t do this on so many levels.
I can't even whisper her name, my heart would burst out of my chest.
But I would fight against the stars for you.
I have ruined your life.
Some lines you just don't cross. 
I want to take you under the moonlight.
Having something forbidden is exciting, don't you agree?
The closer we get—the more I let you in
the more dangerous this gets.
Don’t you get it? You’re what everyone wants! But I’m not going to let them win.
Make it so I never have to dream about this again—make it so we can have this
forever.
Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.
We were doomed from the start. 
Nothing is as deadly as the love of a powerful man.
But this kiss? It's ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed. 
You sure about that, Dad? Because he's done everything to me.
Are you scared of me now?
You loved me - then what right had you to leave me?
I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
One moment, you give me everything that I want, and in the next, you snatch all of that away.
It's hopeless. We can never work out.
The world didn’t want us together so I forged a new one where we would.
How could a peacock lust for a lion?
You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.
I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you.
It's absurd how crazy love can make you...but even more absurd how stupid jealousy can make you.
 That you and I are meant to be together, but never meant to be.
Why does fate seem always to conspire against us? To deny us life's simple pleasures?
We'll meet after this war. I'll certainly find you wherever you'll hide. 
War makes fools of men and women wanton.
What offends you most, Father? That she's Catholic, or that she's poor?
If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you.
You tempress, I see you once and all I can think of is having you.
Feelings are forbidden, does not mean we cannot enjoy one another.
The more you deny me, the more I desire you. You are a plague in my mind.
Ever since we met, no one else can compare. 
How can I be with someone else, when I’m with them, it’s you I see.
You can have me, think of whoever you love. For tonight.
You can pretend I'm her/him. I don't care. I just want you.
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hatsunemitskislobotomy · 10 months ago
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àłƒâ€âž· look at me! look at me!
↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace idol! au headcanons! ❞
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·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̩̄̄*Ì©Ì©Ì„Í™ă€€âœ©ă€€*̩̩͙̄˚̩̩̄̄*̩̩͙‧͙
linkon city, the hotspot for new and upcoming talent. the city is restless, many calling it “the city of dreams”. ambition and passion are what fuel the city, it’s vibrant culture making it alluring to many. you and your best friend tara are debuting in the most anticipated girl group of your generation, hunt:ress. with your manager caleb and your groupmates by your side, this journey should be smooth sailing

right?
fans tend to pit boy groups and girl groups against each other— it did not take long before your group hunt:ress was dragged into that mess. specifically with a particular boy group— after a clip of the recently debuted group brushing past yours without a second glance at an award show went viral, the boy group eVOL was never far when hunt:ress was mentioned. hell even variety and award shows were humoring the spectacle by having the two groups up to announce awards or interviews. that’s where you met the group’s maknae, xavier.
when i tell you— y’all looked at each other like ONCE and the masses were making edits, making blogs and analysis videos, writing fanfiction, whole nine yards
but of course with the people who thought y’all were cute (despite never actually having a conversation with one another) came his fans who gave you unnecessary hate, they’re ruthless
with the way your group was pitted against eVOL, other fans just thought y’all had beef (think the alleged jeongyeon v. jimin beef type of level LMAOOOOO)
no but seriously eVOL fans conspired with hunt:ress fans about you and xavier being together so much that caleb had to give the company your phone to search through just to make sure
rumors get so bad that they put you on house arrest shortly after some rabid xavier biases run you out of a cafe (it made the news)
eVOL’s company reaches out to yours with a half hearted apology, however they won’t won’t release a public statement because “that would only feed into it” and hope that the situation blows over
unbeknownst to both companies— xavier finds a way to reach out to you through your old phone (that you hide because you didn’t want to give up your old life just to become an idol) and apologizes for his fans behavior
the two of you actually start to talk since you’re not exactly allowed to go out the dorms save for group outings and music/award shows, he’s been the first person you’ve been able to actually talk to, it was refreshing
you find out despite his baby face— he is not the maknae and is actually the oldest member but his company’s trying to keep that public perception of him (yeah they’re weeeeeird)
you start to confide in each other and talk about idol life but also just random things, he’s a comforting presence in a world where everyone’s eyes were on you
you sometimes text him all night coming to practice absolutely exhausted, tara’s the first one to suspect something is going on
tara actually runs one of y’all’s ship pages LMAOOOOO
when your group wins an award for best new music, he’s the first person who congratulates you (the footage is clipped and before the end of the night it’s viral)
one of the reasons why hunt:ress was so well received was because of their visuals. the girls were pretty, sure— but whoever their stylist was? they were working overtime. there is not a single ‘flop outfit’ compilation or blog about any of you girls. one of your group’s performance outfit goes viral however everyone can’t stop talking about how it captured your aura and stage presence perfectly, it went viral catching everyone’s attention— including someone interesting. your company had ties to a famous designer who rarely showed his face, seemed like he’d just design clothes and have them modeled and call it a day, did not bother to even go to fashion showcases where his work would be the main event. but then he saw a clip of you in his work go viral— he had to see it for himself. that’s when you met rafayel.
when you heard that the designer of all your performance outfits wanted to meet you specifically you were nervous, after all this had to be some respectable man
let’s just say you were a bit confused when you showed up to his studio that looked like a tornado had ran through it— everything was strewn around
in its wake? an attractive young man who was probably the last person you’d think would be the person responsible for your group’s outfits
he’s an audacious man, skipping all pleasantries to immediately ask about your measurements
he asks for your chest size first and you resist the urge to chuck a nearby thread spool at him
you start to interrogate him, there’s no way that he’s the decorated designer that’s well respected in the industry
 right?
but despite his demeanor, you can’t argue with his skill when he pulls out a dress that immediately catches your eye— you’re itching to try it on
he snickers at your wide eyes and tells you to change into it (he makes a joke about how he wouldn’t mind dressing you himself and you give him the craziest look)
once you’re all dressed up you step away from the changing room, doing a little twirl as you showed off his work
he was in awe, videography did you no justice compared the real deal— he shamelessly asks you to drop your idol career to be his model, his muse
and just when you thought you couldn’t give this man any more crazy looks
you really couldn’t deny it though, it was almost as if his work was made for you— the dress complimented you deeply
but alas you had worked extremely hard to get to where you were now, no amounts of flattery would coax you out of it
no matter to him, he wasn’t one to give up so easily. in a sea of fish, you were quite the catch
eventually he convinces your company to “lend” you to him as his model— the company agrees because not only is the versatility of idols really important but also free promo lolz
he now starts to attend these fashion shows so he can bask in your presence showing off his work, people whisper about the man who manages to get the best seat every time wondering who he is
at the end of every show he’s waiting for you with a bouquet of flowers, you always accept them joking about how it was just another failed attempt at him trying to get you to be his permanent model
little did you know that that wasn’t the only thing he was gunning for
whenever the question “who’s the most hardworking?” would arise in group interviews, without a doubt your fellow members would answer your name. your trainee days were rough, strict diets, endless hours of practice, appointments with vocal coaches, promo— you took it all in stride with no complaints. nowadays as a debuted idol in a well performing group, you still couldn’t help but watch what you ate, practice until your muscle ached, finding every opportunity to better yourself. tara often tried to reassure you that you already were good enough and that it was alright to be gracious and lenient towards yourself. you appreciated her words but you were fine, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being a trainee. that mindset eventually landed you in trouble causing you to collapse at a pre rehearsal for a music show. fortunately with no footage, rumors of your company potentially mistreating you only had the questioned credibility from word of mouth. eventually coming to with an iv connected to your arm and caleb scolding you for never taking breaks, your company insists that your group does the next few music shows without you so you can rest. before you can protest, a doctor that’s introduced to be your primary care walks in. that’s when you’re reunited with zayne.
you’re still a bit groggy but you recognize those pensive green eyes anywhere
he tries to not cross the line of a patient doctor relationship but the minute caleb leaves he gives you an exasperated look
he makes a quip that despite all these years later you still are inadequate in taking care of yourself
you grew up in the same small town as him and went to school together, of course he left for medical school while you perused your dream— who knew that you’d reunite in the big city
despite being in for mild dehydration and being treated for it with the iv, he insists on doing a full exam which gets you nervous and rightfully so, he’s very thorough
and lo and behold— he unravels your secret that you’ve kept from your company, your chronic illness
when auditioning and being signed on as a trainee the medical records you had submitted were from a shoddy doctor who never ran any tests
you beg him not to rat you out, after all you had made it this far with not a single person suspecting a thing
he’s very adamant about letting your company know, he tries to reassure you that the more room for accommodation for you the better but you cut him off pleading
he didn’t know how ruthless the industry was— you’ve seen plenty of popular groups put members in indefinite and unfair hiatuses for something beyond their control, if it wasn’t your company than the general public would know you as the sickly idol
you had worked too hard for it to come crashing down like this and his cold eyes softened in realization
he let out a sigh before begrudgingly agreeing to keep your secret, reminding you that you had been lucky that he was employed by the hospital rather than your company who by under contract he’d have to tell
he also makes a condition, you would have to start taking care of yourself more— if you ever landed in a hospital bed with another iv in he wouldn’t hesitate to let your company know of your state
you thank him profusely, you had worked far too hard for this. he knows because this had been your dream since you were children
you offer him to lunch in the upcoming weeks as a means to catch up, he only agrees under the guise that he can keep an eye on your condition while making sure you actually eat
❀° ┄───╼
a/n: wowza that was a lot đŸ˜”â€đŸ’«
y’all i love this game so much it’s not even funny— zayne my beloved pookie bear oml
i hope y’all enjoyed this fr, maybe i’ll write something(s) inspired by this au and hopefully expand on some of the headcanons ‌
if y’all get some inspiration off of this pls tag me i wanna read yalls work so badlyyyy okay bye guys mwahhhh đŸ«¶đŸŸ
╰───┄ °❀
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blackbirdsblackberries · 3 months ago
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Don't drink the Kool-Aid pt.1
I'll create a tag list if people want to be tagged. There's a meaning behind Savior Anwir's name! This chapter is a bit short considering it's technically a prologue.
Your day is a boring loop yet one you’ve grown to love.
You wake up, get ready for the day, wait in line for your tray of shitty food, sit with your “team”, finish eating. 
During the morning you spend your time exercising until you’re about to collapse. This will end around lunchtime in which you’ll get your lunch delivered to wherever you are in the place. Afterwards you are expected to show your devotion to your higher-ups, your family, your saviors. The rest of the day you either practice combat or defense.
Tiring as it might be, it was your life and you loved it. 
You don’t remember your life before joining Savior Anwir in her division of the Daughters of Eve. The division is based in Gotham City, a place even the devil himself had abandoned. Atleast, that’s what you’ve been told. 
You see, you’re not allowed out of the confines of the estate. It’s too dangerous, what if men take you away and use you? What if you get lost? What if you accidentally get killed? It’s terrifying to think of and keeps you away from the outside world.
Today however things have gone a bit differently, after showing devotion to your saviors you and everyone else is herded to the main hall - which was just the foyer area. This only happens when they take on new members. 
Will they be mean? Would they be overjoyous? There’s so many options and you don’t like any of them, you don’t like new people or change, you like how everything is now.
You take your place in the second row. 
The first row is for kids, the second for teens, the third for young adults, the fourth for adults, and the fifth for people over that age.
Savior Anwir stands atop the stairs in front of everyone, two people next to her. 
One is a girl with blonde hair, tanned skin and striking blue eyes, she’s in a purple hoodie and black leggings. The other is a girl with short black hair, brown eyes and beautiful clear skin, she herself is in a blackish gray graphic t-shirt and light gray sweatpants.
People start to murmur, a teammate of yours turns to you. 
“They seem off, right?” You don’t know why she’s asking you. Frankly, you don’t care, your team is full.
“I guess, but they seem nice enough.” Is all you say, no point in conspiring against people who haven’t even been in your presence for more than a minute.
The murmurs die down as soon as Savior Anwir raises her hands.
“Now, I understand everyone is excited for new sisters to be joining us,” Savior Anwir glances at the two beside her as if silently asking if she’s correct to call them sisters. Savior Anwir doesn’t actually care, she is simply doing it to make them seem more welcomed - you’ve been around long enough to know that.
She continues.
“But we must calm down and not cause strain on their mental capacities!” Savior Anwir puts a hand on either girl’s shoulders. “Please, introduce yourselves.”
The blonde one speaks up first “I’m Stephanie but everyone can call me Steph!” She seems energetic and like she doesn’t truly belong here.
The other one doesn’t speak up. Steph chuckles and speaks up again “This is Cassandra, you can just call her Cass! She’s mute.” Mutism is common here due to many people coping by not speaking at all. That’s probably why she’s mute, she was attacked and now chooses to be mute!
Right? Right.
Silence envelops the room then and you don't miss how Steph awkwardly looks around as if expecting applause - something you will not do until Savior Anwir says so.
Savior Anwir nods. "Thank you girls, you are very lucky to be joining today, it just so happens we've found some of our trainees have been plotting against us. So we have openings for you!"
You raise a brow, who would be so stupid to plot against your own family? The very family that graciously took you in and nurtured you, protected you and showed you true love.
Savior Anwir holds her hands out. "The two traitors who have decided they do not love us are none other than Mary Hailstone and Annie Malcomb! Please, come up here and shake hands with your replacements!"
You freeze, Mary and Annie belonged to your team, you three were as close as people get in this cult. They wouldn't of betrayed you... Right?
You watch as the two slowly ascend the staircase, heads down and hands shaking.
When you betray DoE there is only one punishment.
Mary and Annie both shake hands with Steph and Cass before Savior Anwir hands the traitors a gun each.
They had a choice, shoot each other or shoot themselves. They chose themselves.
You watch as Steph's eyes widen in horror and Cass's eyebrows twitch slightly.
You suppose you should pick up on little things they do now considering they'll be your new team members...
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testrella · 5 months ago
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CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER
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𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER FOUR : tutoring.
NEXT
 CHAPTER FIVE : accidental kiss.
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you sat at the grand dining table, chandelier dimming the area hanged above you and textbooks of different curriculum surrounded you. you were diligently working through difficult math questions with megumi, breaking down each problem step by step. the room filled with flashy decor and high ceilings only further echoed your explanations.
“alright megumi, for this one i want you to do it on your own. if you get stuck, look back at the previous problems we worked on.” you said in a patient and encouraging voice.
just as megumi was about to start to solve the problem before him, the one and only satoru burst through the custom wooden doors with a mischievous grin on his face. “good evening miss.l/n, megumi. how’s the tutoring session going?”
megumi sighed, clearly in annoyance and frustration. “it was going well until now.”
you warmly smiled at satoru. “it’s going well mr.gojo. megumi doesn’t seem to be having any trouble with his studies at all.”
satoru leaned casually on the back of a dinning chair, his eyes twinkling in excitement. “please, call me satoru. there’s no need for you to be so formal.” he then glances at the textbooks, “math, huh? i always found it interesting how numbers can just..add up. almost like how we keep running into each other.”
you chuckled at his light joke, “it’s quite the coincidence, isn’t it?” you asked while turning to megumi, giving him your full attention.
megumi could only roll his eyes and mutter, “more like the world’s way of conspiring against me..”
satoru quickly ignored megumi’s comment and continued, “so, miss.l/n, do you enjoy teaching? you must be very passionate about it if you’re able to put up with this brat.” satoru playfully ruffles megumi’s hair but his hand was quickly slapped away.
“teaching definitely wasn’t my first nor second choice but i’ve grown to love it.” you replied, “seeing bright students like megumi and being able to push them to be the greatest is rewarding.”
satoru’s goofy grin only widen. “you know, you have a way of talking that’s just so captivating. your students are lucky to hear you speak everyday.”
a light blush spreads across your face, from your ears to the tip of your nose. “thank you satoru, that’s very kind of you to say.” som would find it odd calling him by his first name but it came out so casually it made his heart flutter.
megumi groaned in annoyance, loud enough to snap the eye contact between you and his guardian. “can we please get back to the math problem?” he clearly has grown uncomfortable with the tension in the room.
but satoru couldn’t let some lousy kid ruin his shot, he was just on a roll! “of course, of course i’ll let you go after one more question.” he said while glancing back at megumi and then setting his eyes on you once again. “what do you do in your free time when you’re not inspiring the kids of our future? maybe we could find some common interest.”
before you could answer, the heavy double doors of the dinning room swing open once again. it was satoru’s mother, an intimidating figure with a very stern expression. her eyes quickly examined the scene before her, narrowing her eyes on you.
“satoru, what is this?” she demanded. “who and why is this woman tutoring megumi?”
satoru quickly shifted his demeanor. going from a playful, flirtatious puppy to a presentable young man. “mother, this is miss.y/n l/n. she’s megumi’s teacher and tutor. an excellent tutor i should add.”
his mother’s lips thinned as she continued to examine what seemed to be every feature of yours. her lips soon turned into a disapprovement line. “i was not aware we were seeking
employment from the outside world. especially from someone who looks..well inexperience.”
your face flushed in embarrassment, feeling like you entered uncharted territory. but you stood up and bowed out of respect, maintaining your composure. “mrs.gojo, i can assure you that i am very much qualified to tutor megumi. i’ve studied in-“
“qualifications on paper mean little. experience and dynasty is what matters when it comes to our family. megumi is like a grandson to me, and he deserves only the best our family can provide. surely my son didn’t cheap out on you, did he megumi?” her icy gaze turned into a warming, innocent expression as she turned to megumi.
“mother, that’s enough. miss.l/n is more than qualified to tutor megumi. after all, she’s the reason he hasn’t been expelled from his academy.” satoru said as he stepped forward in your defense.
but being the stubborn woman she was, she wasn’t going to let it down without a fight. “satoru, i will not let our family’s name be tarnished from subpar tutoring. you could’ve asked me to arrange a private tutor for him. this is unacceptable.” she whispered to him, quiet enough to keep megumi out of it but loud enough to bring you down.
being clearly hurt, you began to gather all your things. “i completely understand, mrs.gojo. i apologize for the inconvenience and if i caused any offense.”
satoru’s eyes flashed with saddens as he turned around to see you leave. “miss.l/n, please, you don’t need to leave. you’re more than capable of educating megumi. please, have a seat.” he said while pulling your chair out.
his mother’s gazed shifted to satoru, her expression hardening. “satoru, you may be the head of this family but i still have a say in what’s best for this family.”
tears began to form in your eyes, was your presence truly a burden to the family?
satoru took a deep breathe, desperately trying to remain calm in front of you. had it been any other person, he would’ve listened to his mother in a heartbeat. “miss.l/n, i’m very sorry for my mothers behavior. your help is appreciated, and i know how much your deeply care for megumi. please, continuing tutoring him if you’re willing to.”
you hesitated to answer, your eyes flickering between satoru and his mother. “i appreciate your efforts but i don’t want to cause any more trouble.” you whispered.
“you’re not causing any trouble,” satoru said while gently grabbing your items and placing them down on the table. “my mother is. this is my home and you’re more than welcomed to stay.”
with his persistence, you felt comfortable to sit back down in your seat. you nodded in agreement to stay, avoiding his mother’s sharpening glare.
he turns to his mother, “we can continue this conversation in my office, away from megumi and my guest.” he spat out.
his mother eyes only blazed with anger as she stomped out the room. as her heels clacking slowly faded away you let go a breath you were unaware you were holding in.
“i’m really sorry about that. she’s..a difficult person, to say the least. it’s her away or the highway type of person.” he smiled apologetically.
you attempted to reciprocate the same smile but you were still a bit shaken up by the interaction. “it’s okay satoru, i’m glad you stuck up for me.”
megumi let out a sigh of relief, “so, does that mean you’ll continue to be my teacher and my tutor?”
you could only chuckle as his concern comment unintentionally lightened the mood. “of course i will, megumi! now let’s get back to that math problem.”
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satoru took a deep breath as he approached his home office. he knew what- or who awaited him before the wooden doors. he braced himself for the confrontation. the heavy doors creaked, revealing his mother sitting in his high black leather chair, her posture being straighter than paper.
“mother,” satoru greeted but not in his chirpy tone like he would use with you or megumi. it was natural with not emotion behind it.
“satoru,” she replied, it was more viscous and icy. “we need to talk.”
he closed the doors behind him and walked over to his desk, leaning against it while placing both hands on it. his demeanor is in all seriousness, a rare sight to see. “i already know what you’re going to say, and i’m telling you right now- miss.l/n stays.”
her eyes narrowed, “is her qualifications that impressive, or is there something more to your interest in her?”
satoru immediately backs off the desk and avoids her gaze. “miss.l/n is an excellent teacher. like i said before, she vouched for megumi when he was near expulsion. she cares for his education and future, there’s nothing more to it,” he expressed.
his mother stood up from his chair and clasped her hands. “very well, i’ll drop the matter for now. but there’s another issue we must discuss- your status as a single man.”
satoru’s brows furrowed in confusion. “what about it?”
“you are the head of the gojo family,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “it’s time you start fulfilling your responsibilities as the leader. you need to find a suitable spouse and provide a worthy successor.”
he sighed, running his hands through his white hair. “well i’m aware of my responsibilities, mother. but i don’t see why we need to rush any of this.”
“because you’re nearing thirty, and it’s past time you start settling down. if you don’t find a worthy partner before your cousin’s wedding, i’ll take matters into my own hands and find one for you.”
satoru’s stomach turned into knots knowing his cousin’s wedding was less than a year away. his jaw clenched before he spoke up, “by a ‘worthy partner’ you mean somebody who fits your exact standards?”
“precisely!” she said while giving him a small peck on his cheek. “someone who comes from a prestigious and noble background, with proper upbringing and connections that could further benefit our clan.”
satoru exhaled sharply before speaking his mind. “and what if i want to marry somebody who doesn’t fit the standard? what if i want to chose for myself?”
his mother laughs. she laughs in front of his face for asking such a silly question. it takes her a good minute before she calms herself down. “your personal desires are to be put aside. you will do what’s best for the family.”
he could only stare at his mother. “and what if what’s best for the family doesn’t come from a prestigious background? what if it’s someone genuine and cares about me?”
her voice was steely. “then she’ll spend everyday to make herself into something she’s not. go ahead and bring some commoner into this family.”
the tension was thick. satoru felt his mother’s words pierced through his chest and mentally suffocated. it hurt because she was right, she was always right.
“you may think you have a choice,” she whispered, “but remember your decisions affect more than yourself.”
she quietly excuses herself out the office, leaving him in a mental battle of doubt. the weight of his family’s expectations were catching up to him and started to drag him down to the depths of hell. he sat down as he ran his hands through his hair. it would mean nothing to bring a regular girl into his clan other than to prove his point. but he couldn’t help to think about you and the rare moments of genuine connection he felt around you. his breathing slowed down and his nervous fidgeting stopped. maybe, just maybe, there was a way he could follow a path that’ll satisfy both him and his clan.
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series masterlist | my masterlist
tag list is open. please inbox me your username. also, i’d like to apologize for such a late and short chapter. testifying in court takes longer than you think ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 
tag list: @roscpctals99 @poeticlovefanpage @mistyheart @sureconfused @chilichopsticks @lightshowerrr @faeryminnyx @0001010dog @myabae @nivi @therealestpussyeater @kolpvii @sleepykittycx @browrm @tojisworm-5 @universallystrangeravenue @catobsessedlady @shivzypuff @nico707 @invisible-mori @peqch-pie @dilflover-3 @lovelivelaygh1324 @moOsin @gojoracle @foliea @honoredalone @goldenglow149 @portgas459ace @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @silkija @prettylvne @r0ckst4rjk @ritsatoru @starlostwish @yihona-san06 @zoeyflower @mx-mekla @iaminyourfloors @gabi-moureira @thesharkcollector @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @miffysoo @lordbugs @mimidonottouch @moonlightazriel @bubybubsters @manyno @rixyaaaa
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nayziiz · 7 months ago
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Disturbed | OP81
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader (she/her)
Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!
Masterlist
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In the high-stakes world of motorsports, where the roar of engines drowned out all other sounds and the smell of burning rubber hung heavy in the air, Oscar stood as a beacon of unwavering determination. His name was synonymous with calm and resilience, his reputation forged on the anvil of countless hard-fought battles on-track and defying odds by helping keep his team in the running for third in the Constructors Championship. From the moment he first strapped himself into the driver's seat, Oscar had possessed an indomitable spirit that seemed impervious to the twists and turns of the race track.
Race after race, he pushed himself and his car to the very limit in pursuit of glory. Whether navigating treacherous hairpin turns or duelling wheel-to-wheel with his rivals, Oscar never backed down from a challenge. His resolve was unyielding, a relentless force that propelled him forward, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.
But for all his unwavering determination, there were moments when he faltered too. It was on one particularly gruelling race day that the cracks in his armour began to show. Everything seemed to conspire against him – mechanical issues, strategic missteps, and a relentless onslaught of bad luck. Each setback chipped away at his confidence, threatening to unravel the very fabric of his resolve.
As the race wore on and Oscar's fortunes continued to decline, a sense of despair settled over him like a suffocating blanket. Doubt crept into his mind, gnawing away at his confidence and sowing seeds of uncertainty. For the first time in his career, he found himself teetering on the brink of defeat, his once unshakable resolve shaken to its core.
Amidst the chaos of the pit lane and the cacophony of roaring engines, there was one constant that anchored Oscar's fraying sanity – her. She was the quiet strength in his corner, the steady presence that never wavered, no matter how tumultuous the storm. Her belief in him was unwavering, a beacon of light cutting through the darkness of doubt.
With each passing lap, she mumbled quiet prayers in the garage. She was his rock, his anchor in the storm, her unwavering support a lifeline in his darkest hour. And though he struggled to find solace in the midst of defeat, he knew that as long as she stood by his side, he would never truly be alone.
As the chequered flag finally fell and the race came to an end, Oscar found himself staring down the bitter taste of defeat. But in the arms of the one who had stood by him through it all, he discovered a glimmer of hope amidst the wreckage of his shattered dreams.
“Oscar, listen to me,” she said, her voice cutting through the chaos of the post-race pit lane like a beacon of clarity. “I know things didn’t go as planned, but you've got this. You've faced tougher challenges before, and you've always come out on top. This is just another step to reaching the top.”
He glanced over at her, his eyes searching for reassurance in the midst of his turmoil.
“But what if this time is different? What if I've finally met my match?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
She reached out and gently took his hand, her touch a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil.
“You're Oscar Piastri,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You're one of the most talented drivers out there, and nothing – not even a bad race – can change that. You have the skill, the determination, and the heart to overcome anything that comes your way.”
In the aftermath of defeat, Oscar realised that his strength did not lie solely in his ability to conquer adversity, but in his capacity to accept defeat with grace and humility. And though the road ahead may be fraught with challenges, he knew that as long as she stood by his side, he would always find the courage to carry on. For in her unwavering support, he found the resilience to rise from the ashes of defeat and chase his dreams once more.
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superprofesh · 5 months ago
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The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Epilogue
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Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader
Description: Eighteen months after you and Colt have declared your love for each other, there's just one thing that could make life better — actually getting to spend time together.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2.5k
Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word (sending directly to the rest because Tumblr isn't cooperating)
Author’s Note: You know I couldn't resist a little epilogue for these two :D I hope this brings you all as much joy as this series has brought me, and I appreciate each and every one of you who has taken the time to read and/or respond to this story. Thank you :)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. The steps leading up to the apartment have never seemed so long, and Colt honestly can’t clear them fast enough so he can get home to you.
Home. What a word. What a feeling. Colt Seavers has had a home before, but home has never felt so warm, so kind, so welcoming as the one he shares with you. And his soul is at home wherever you are.
It’s been eighteen months since he confessed his love for you on the airport greenway, eighteen months since the two of you started a relationship that has weathered all sorts of trials. Lengthy separations, serious injuries, art-related frustrations, meddling outsiders — sometimes it seems like the whole world has conspired against the two of you.
And still, you are his. You choose to be his every day. Your love has never wavered, and his love for you has only grown stronger as you’ve shown him what it means to be beloved.
Colt still smiles to remember the night he proposed. The two of you had barely been officially dating for four months when he couldn’t stand it another minute and asked you to marry him. You were slightly less impulsive about the idea — you took a full two seconds to agree and ask how soon you could get married. Neither of you had ever been more sure about anything than knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.
Marriage hasn’t been easy all the time. Colt’s work takes him all over the world, and yours keeps you busy 24/7. Sometimes weeks will go by without you getting to spend time together, and sometimes the moments you can steal are spent simply falling asleep on each other’s shoulders. You and Colt have learned to treasure every second you get to spend together, hoping that one day, you’ll have all the time in the world to enjoy each other’s company. Colt feels a flutter of excitement knowing that time may come sooner than you think.
For now, though, both of you have a full two weeks off from your different jobs. Colt’s latest movie finished filming yesterday, and you’ve been done with your latest Broadway set design job for three days. Colt has been on a plane for the last fourteen hours and is bone-weary, but all he can think about right now is getting through that door and seeing your smile.
Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two. Colt hits the top of the steps, and the hallway is flooded with soft golden light as you fling the door open, clearing the distance between you in half a second and throwing yourself into his arms with a beaming smile that makes his heart feel like it will burst with joy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Two hours later, the two of you are snuggled together under a blanket on your couch, listening to the gentle night rain outside. You’re both thoroughly worn out — you had three weeks’ worth of catching up to do — and now you’ve both settled in for the simple pleasure of basking in each other’s presence.
You sometimes catch yourself wondering if this could all be a dream. Is it possible that you could actually be married to Colt Seavers, world’s greatest stuntman and the kindest, most dedicated man you’ve ever met? The way he showers you with his attention, the way he is so intentional about demonstrating his love for you, all his unconventional ways of letting you know he’s thinking about you even when you’re hundreds of miles apart
 sometimes, it feels too good to be true.
The past three weeks haven’t been easy. You always miss Colt when you’re both far from home on jobs, but this past separation has seemed to last an eternity. Every night, you fell asleep longing to be with him, and every phone call, every text message seemed so inadequate to express how much you missed him. You’ve found yourself craving a time when the two of you will be able to spend every evening this way, wrapped in each other’s arms and unworried about anything else in the world.
Like this moment. He’s almost asleep, his cheek resting against the top of your head while you’re curled up in his arms. In these quiet moments, listening to his steady heartbeat and enjoying the abundant amount of heat he manages to give off at all times, you’re tempted to wonder how any life could be this sweet.
The two of you have been good for each other in more ways than one. With you in his life, Colt has started showing more caution in the stunts he performs. He’s still the same fearless daredevil he’s always been, but now he takes a few extra minutes to make doubly sure he’s safe when he leaps off a building or dives straight into a pool of dark water. It’s amazing how a person starts caring about themselves a little more when they know someone else cares for them.
Colt isn’t the only one changed, either. Before, you never thought twice about staying awake for three days straight to finish an elaborate set piece, or going without meals for a full day, or obsessing over a job almost to the point of a nervous breakdown. Colt has made it his mission in life to check on you throughout the day and make sure you’re taking care of yourself, and somehow you’ve made it a habit, too.
With your head tucked under his chin, you feel Colt stir slightly out of his sleep. You start to shift away to give him more room to stretch out, but he just wraps his arms around you tighter and smiles down at you.
“I missed you,” he says softly.
Your heart swells with gratitude at his simple ways of saying I love you. “I missed you, too,” you reply, reaching up a hand to thread through his hair. He sighs and closes his eyes at your touch.
“So, what are we going to do with our two weeks off?”
You hum in answer to his question, pretending to think it over. “Actually, I was thinking about just getting a ton of work done in advance,” you tease him, grinning at the way his face warms into a smile. “Just locking myself in my studio, working all hours of the night
”
“That’s fine,” Colt tells you mildly, reaching one hand up to stroke down your arm. “I was actually planning to work, too. Your car is seriously lacking in scratches and dents. I thought I might borrow it to practice for a car chase through the neighborhood.”
You lean forward to press a kiss against his shoulder. “While you’re doing that, I could repaint your truck with some psychedelic decals.”
“I could also work on smashing through windows in the living room.”
“At least put down a tarp first,” you instruct him, your kisses gradually working up his shoulder to his neck.
Colt grins and tilts your head up with his fingertips. Your lips meet in a sweet, unhurried kiss that makes shivers travel the length of your spine. Even after all the kisses you’ve shared, the feeling never grows old for you. His lips are soft, gentle against yours, his arms holding you close to his chest.
“I don’t care what we do,” Colt whispers against your cheek. “As long as we have the chance to do this anytime we want to.”
You smile and nod in agreement, relaxing into his arms and letting your head fall onto his shoulder. The rain continues to fall steadily outside, the soft lamplight cascading through the windows and casting a golden shade over Colt’s skin. The contentment and warmth of this moment envelopes you, but something still tugs at the back of your mind.
“How long do you think this will last?” you ask softly, wondering if Colt is still awake to hear you. “Being apart so often for so long?”
Colt senses the hesitation in your voice and lifts his head to look down into your eyes. “Does it bother you?” he asks. You’re touched by how serious he sounds.
“Not terribly,” you answer honestly, not wanting to sound as forlorn as you’ve felt the last few weeks. “It’s hard sometimes, but it makes catching up even more fun.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Colt smiles. He doesn’t ignore your question, though, and he pushes himself up so he’s sitting up straight beside you, tugging you over so you can sit up on your knees and face him. He takes both your hands in his. “I don’t know how much longer,” he tells you. “Are you trying to say you’re ready for a change?”
“Not necessarily,” you say carefully, caught off guard by how serious he suddenly seems. “I don’t think either of us is ready for that. But to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately. Being able to see you every day, both of us coming back to the same place every night
” You hear the wistful note in your voice and try to curb it, not wanting Colt to feel any pressure from you.
But he finishes your sentence for you. “...spending evenings together like this instead of with a goodnight text across the country.”
You nod, realizing that Colt has been feeling exactly what you’ve been feeling. “No matter how much I love designing sets, I get so tired of sleeping in hotels and only seeing you on video calls.”
“I know,” he says, reaching up to comb some stray hairs behind your ear. “Me, too. I thought about it more this last trip than ever before.”
You beam a relieved smile at him, suddenly feeling like you’ve released a huge burden just by sharing your feelings with him and knowing he's been going through the same thing. “Maybe we should start thinking about a new arrangement,” you reply softly.
“Are you suggesting divorce?”
You laugh out loud at his serious tone, and Colt laughs with you as he pulls you into a hug. “You are so ridiculous,” you say through a grin. You give him a peck on the cheek, thinking the conversation is over now that you’ve gotten that worry off your chest, but Colt surprises you by disentangling from your arms and launching into another serious tone.
“What do you say to this,” Colt proposes. “One more job each, and then we think about going into business together?”
You sit bolt upright at that. “Going into business together?” you echo in surprise. “What do you have up your sleeve?”
“What, you’ve never heard of married people going into business together?”
This is almost too much to process. “Colt, you’re a stuntman,” you remind him. “I’m a set designer. Those aren’t exactly compatible professions.”
“They could be very compatible if we started a joint venture as movie consultants,” he insists. His eyes are beaming with pride, and suddenly you realize that this isn’t a spur-of-the-moment suggestion from him. “That way, any company that hired us would put us on the same jobs, and we could each do our separate thing on the same sets. I could be a stunt consultant, and you’d be an art consultant. We could expand it as we needed to.”
Colt’s grin is infectious, and you impulsively reach out to frame his face in your hands. “Am I crazy, or does it sound like you’ve put some thought into this?” you ask in disbelief.
“I already told you, I missed you,” Colt shrugs. He takes your hands in his, then flips one over to kiss the inside of your wrist. But you’re not finished asking questions.
“What do you mean, ‘stunt consultant’? That sounds dangerously like you’re thinking about a career shift.”
“Not necessarily,” he continues, using his fingertips to trace the inside of your wrist now. “It’s more of a way I could pick the jobs I want instead of being Tom Ryder’s faithful shadow. Plus, I’d have the chance for more of a stunt coordinator job one day.”
You’re amazed at how much thought he has put into this idea, as well as how it so perfectly solves the problems you’ve been wrestling with for the last three weeks. “I thought you weren’t interested in climbing the ladder,” you counter with a smile.
“I never have been,” Colt admits, still swirling his fingertips over your inner forearm. “But if it means I have to be away from you all the time, I’m willing to take a little leap.”
“How long have you been thinking about all this?”
“Not long. I ran into Dan Tucker on this last set. He gave me the idea for the joint venture.”
“Remind me to send Dan a bouquet of flowers.”
Colt grins wide at that, and he leans forward to close the distance between you, pressing a gentle kiss into the corner of your mouth. “Does that mean you’re interested?” he murmurs.
“I might be,” you say, feeling your heartbeat speed up. “If I think I’d be compatible with my future business partner.”
“I can arrange for some compatibility exercises.”
You smile at his response, sliding your arms around his neck as he moves to pull you into his embrace again. “Will there be a fee for training?”
“No charge,” Colt mumbles against your jaw.
“Good benefits?”
“Lots and lots of benefits.” His lips are moving down to do something wicked to the skin of your neck, but you pause him briefly by lifting his head up to meet his gaze. His dark blue eyes are focused on you with the intensity that melts you every time you see it.
“Let’s do it,” you declare, hardly daring to believe that this perfect idea could become a reality. “I don’t know how, but let’s make it happen.”
Colt gives you a smile that seems to brighten the entire room. “You got it, da Vinci.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Believe me, it’s good to be home.”
Colt demonstrates his statement by pulling you into his arms and dipping you back so you’re laying across his lap. You laugh and pull him down to your level, resting one hand on the back of his neck while he kisses you. His kiss is gentle, almost mischievous somehow, as if he’s already planning his next move to surprise you.
“I suggest a two-week vacation right here,” you say breathlessly when he finally lifts his lips off yours. He kisses the tip of your nose as you continue, “I don’t care if we don’t do a single thing, as long as we’re together for all of it.”
“Mmmm, now you’re talking,” he tells you in the husky voice that always sends goosebumps over your skin. Another kiss, this one on your forehead. “But I bet we can think of lots of things to do.”
“You think?” you ask slyly, and your smirk prompts Colt to gather you up in his arms and stand, an impressive show of strength even from him. Your grin widens, and you capture his lips in a kiss that leaves you both heated and flushed. This is worth all of it, you think. All the lonely nights, all the uncertainty — it all fades in the heat of his gaze, this man you love with every fiber of your being.
“Definitely,” Colt replies against your lips, and you can feel his smile even through the words. “In fact, if we’re going into business together so soon, we’d better get started on those compatibility exercises right away.”
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evilwickedme · 1 year ago
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I said I'd never do jumblr content again and yet here I am because this keeps coming up and it's like the only thing I can think about. That said I will not hesitate to turn off reblogs if y'all are horrible in the notes again, and be warned that I will be blocking anybody who supports any of the theories I mention immediately
There is no such thing as a conspiracy theory that isn't antisemitic. There is no such animal
Antisemitic conspiracy theories go back thousands of years. The ones that still have the most hold on culture to this day are the blood libel, and the protocols of the elders of zion
The blood libel was an accusation that would be brought against Jewish populations in Europe often but especially around Passover claiming that we were killing Christian children for ritual purposes, usually to use their blood for baking matza or other nonsense (it is important to me that you know that this is nonsense. It is horrible and damaging but also to the core a ridiculous lie that never at any point made any sense. They just didn't care). Debatably this trope is present in the merchant of Venice. Undebatably Jews were killed because people did and still do sincerely believe this
The protocols of the elders of zion is a fictitious document published in Russia at the very beginning of the 20th century, supposedly detailing the meetings of the Jewish people who secretly run the world. The protocols were almost immediately proven to be a rip off of another document - ah, plagiarism - but that hasn't stopped antisemites from embracing it wholeheartedly (special thanks fuck you to Henry Ford for publishing them in his newspaper, spreading it across the USA). It built on previous antisemitic tropes, from the greedy banker trope (Jews were forced to be money lenders in medieval Europe as it was forbidden in Christianity and Jews weren't allowed to join any guilds, preventing them from making money in any other capacity - the reason why there are so many Jews in Hollywood is identical, but in the early 20th century) to the concept of dual loyalty (i.e. Jewish are loyal to ourselves above all else and cannot be trusted to be loyal to the country where we live, see: modern trope that every Jew is probably loyal to Israel and the subsequent idea that it's okay to ask every single diaspora Jew how they feel about Israel immediately upon meeting them). It's also worth noting that the word cabal, used to denote the shadowy organizations that supposedly control the world, comes from kabbala, which is Jewish mysticism
The idea of lizard people, created by a guy literally named Icke because he is a gross human being, was designed to repackage the antisemitic shadow cabal concept to be supposedly more palatable
Most qanon theories also build on all of this, such as world leaders preying on children (remember pizzagate?)
But more importantly conspiratorial thinking always positions you as the good guy standing against a mysterious "them", an other which is influencing things behind the scenes. The Jew is the ultimate other, and specifically an other that supposedly forms a shadowy world government, controlling everything and yet somehow not managing to get rid of antisemitism (see: protocols of Zion, lizard people, we control Hollywood and the government which is of course conspiring against you). There is no way to decouple the idea of an evil shadowy organization (usually also referred to as a cabal to really hammer it in) from antisemitism and antisemitic tropes
And this means that even supposedly "harmless" conspiracy theories attract antisemites and train people who aren't necessarily rabid antisemites to confirm those kinds of biases. Obviously Qanon and lizard people are antisemitic, but what does the moon landing have to do with Jews? Well, it was Hollywood and the government that faked it, obviously. Hell, even the conspiracy that Taylor Swift is secretly a lesbian and is either still secretly dating or is exes with Karlie Kloss is riddled with antisemitism -
Okay so I need to explain my position on this because I fucking hate this conspiracy theory, and the fact that most people simply won't acknowledge that that's what it is. Firstly, Taylor Swift has stated that she is not gay or considers herself an ally at least three times off the top of my head, and specifically denied that she was dating Karlie Kloss. Secondly, outing people is wrong. Thirdly, the conspiracy theory hinges on the idea that she would be risking her career by coming out, except that she's proven that basically no controversy can come in the way of her career, she's already "come out" as an ally, donated to glaad and the equality act, promoted queer musicians & artists & designers (there was a song in the reputation tour that was dedicated to a gay designer every single night of the tour). So what's stopping her from coming out at this point? Mysterious forces, clearly. The antisemitism in that I've already explained, but also the virulent antisemitism among Kaylor shippers aimed at her husband and at the fact that she converted to Judaism is fucking disgusting
Again: even a supposedly harmless conspiracy theory leads to antisemitism and attracts antisemites
A few years ago I tried to rewatch white collar cause I remembered really enjoying that show as a preteen and after around a season I just couldn't stand it anymore, because all I wanted to do was jump into the universe and yell at Mozzie to shut the fuck up because these conspiracy theories were barely presented as a joke and never challenged even once by any of the characters. When I rewatched that 70s show it also fucking sucked, but at least it wasn't showing up in every single episode. The blacklist focuses entirely on a literal Cabal, that's what they're called
This stuff is so normalized and it's fucking everywhere and it's exhausting. Jews are to this day being murdered over this. I can't change the world by myself, unfortunately, but if you don't have a specific person to blame for your troubles, shut the fuck up. Just shut up. There is no conspiracy against you. Sometimes life just sucks. Or definitely does for the Jews who get shot at over this shit
Again, I'll be blocking anybody who parrots this bullshit in the comments but especially fucking gaylors y'all are one of the main reasons that being a fan of Taylor Swift's music is fucking unbearable. Just accept you can connect to music made by somebody different than yourself it's not that difficult of a concept
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misshoneyimhome · 9 months ago
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250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL
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“Wait
 you like me?” I Jack Hughes
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Summary; In the world of hockey, you share a close friendship with Jack Hughes. Yet, as your feelings for him grow over time, you decide to keep them hidden. However, when fate suddenly pushes you to confront your emotions, will Jack risk your friendship for something more?
Tropes & warnings; friends to lovers; teasing/light bullying; some sort of sadness; hidden feelings; fear of one-sided love;
Other notes; so, I'm actually starting to find writing about this lad quite enjoyable; I mean, just take a look at him! He's absolutely adorable đŸ€—
Word count; 1.6K
âžŒïœĄïŸŸ
You met Jack Hughes for the first time nearly a year after he was drafted, when you had just started working for the New Jersey Devils organization. You had volunteered for some unpaid media tasks, eager to establish yourself in the hockey community, which occasionally allowed you to get closer to the players. And already within your first few weeks at the hockey rink, Jack immediately noticed your curious and focused expression. Without even knowing why, he felt drawn to your shy smile and decided to strike up a conversation with you.
Although his high level of confidence initially took you by surprise, you were instantly charmed by his adorable smile and laughter. And with a combination of cheesy jokes, hockey references, and a playful sense of humour, Jack quickly grasped your deep love and passion for the sport, which only intrigued him further.
You had to admit, it felt as though your friendship blossomed out of nowhere. You bonded over analysing plays, discussing strategies, and the excitement of being part of the Devils' community. And being from the area yourself, you happily showed him around, unveiling all the hidden treasures unknown to many, as you got to know each other on deeper levels.
Jack couldn’t help but admire your dedication and knowledge of hockey, finding your passion for the sport captivating – much like his own. He appreciated how you cheered him on from the side lines, occasionally donning his jersey, and noticed your unwavering commitment to following the team whenever possible.
Yet, as your friendship gradually deepened over the following years, you couldn't deny that you found yourself relishing the time spent with him more and more. His infectious boyish smile, his amusing Florida accent, and his genuine kindness all contributed to making you feel at ease whenever you were in his presence. And as you both transitioned into adulthood, you felt yourself slowly developing deeper emotions for him.
However, you kept these feelings concealed, fearing the potential risk to your friendship. Moreover, you couldn't shake the belief that Jack was entirely out of your league. He was talented, charismatic, and had a magnetic personality that drew people to him. All the girls who pursued him exuded glamour and confidence, and you couldn't help but feel like you didn't measure up.
But though you didn't align with the same interests as those girls – preferring quiet evenings discussing hockey stats over amazing dinners – Jack valued your genuine calm and laid-back demeanour. He appreciated your dedication to your work and simply relished spending time with you, whether engaged in hockey conversations or simply enjoying each other's company.
And despite your insecurities, you treasured your friendship with Jack as well, grateful for the connection you shared. You simply never entertained the thought that he could view you as anything beyond a friend. Thus, you chose to keep your feelings hidden, content with enjoying his company and offering support in any way possible.
**
However, on one fateful night, fate seemed to conspire against you.
As the arena hummed with excitement, the New Jersey Devils celebrated yet another hard-earned victory over their rivals. Amidst a sea of cheering fans, you stood, passionately supporting the team you had grown to adore, as the energy was palpable, and the jubilation of the win filled the air.
And following the game, you found yourself in the company of Jack and several other members of the Devils organization. However, as you shared laughter and conversation, revelling in the triumph, the discussion suddenly took an unexpected turn.
The girls in the group began to tease you in a playful manner about your close friendship with Jack, their words carrying a mischievous undertone. Initially, it was light-hearted banter, harmless jests exchanged among friends. However, their teasing gradually veered towards a more pointed direction, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks with embarrassment.
"I swear, y/n, every time Jack scores a goal, you look at him as though he's the only person in the room," one of the girls teased, nudging you with her elbow.
And then another girl joined in, her laughter resonating through the air. "Yeah, it's as if you're completely smitten with him or something."
You attempted to shrug off their remarks with a nervous chuckle, but instead, it only seemed to encourage their teasing further.
"I think she might actually have a bit of a crush on him," one of them remarked, her tone laced with mock seriousness.
And then the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt your cheeks flushing even warmer. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it, you couldn't deny the truth in their words.
"Oh my gosh! She does... y/n's got a thing for Jack Hughes, how adorable," the first girl exclaimed, her laughter ringing through the hallway.
And nable to bear the embarrassment any longer, you hastily excused yourself from the group, muttering something about needing to freshen up. You spun on your heel and hurried away, seeking to put as much distance between yourself and the teasing girls as possible.
"Wait, y/n, hold on," Jack called out to you, his voice gentle but insistent.
But just as you thought you had managed to escape, you felt a gentle hand on your arm, halting your retreat. Turning around, you were met with Jack's concerned gaze, his expression soft yet urgent. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye, the embarrassment still blazing hot on your cheeks.
"Y/n, don't walk away like that..." Jack pleaded, his grip tightening around your arm.
"Please, Jack," you attempted to shake him off, your voice barely audible. "I just want to go home, okay? You can just go back to your friends."
"What, no,” Jack's voice betrayed confusion and concern. "I'm not done talking to you."
You sighed, giving in slightly, pulling your hand to cross your arms across your chest. "Fine, then let’s talk?"
"I want to know about what they were saying back there," he said, his tone grave.
You bit your lip, feeling the blush returning to your cheeks, your arms tucking yourself tightly in a defence. "It's nothing, just silly chatter among girls."
Jack shook his head, his brows knitting together. "It didn't sound like nothing. They were discussing you and me, weren't they?"
You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "They... they were just teasing. It's not important." You tried to force a light chuckle, but your heavy breaths failed you. 
"Y/n," Jack said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine. “Talk to me.”
Your heart raced in your chest as you struggled to find the right words, tears pressing on, yet you managed to hold them back. "I... Jack, I..."
He lifted your chin gently, compelling you to meet his gaze. "Wait... you like me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his stare. "Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I understand if you don't feel the same way. I mean, look at me, I'm nothing like the girls you're used to..."
Jack's expression softened; his thumb moving to trace gentle circles on your cheek. "Y/n, I don’t want you to be like those girls. You're not like anyone else I know. And that's what I like about you. You're passionate, driven, and you love hockey just as much as I do. You're not just some random girl to me, you're my best friend."
Tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by his words. "But what about those other girls? The ones who are always around you, the ones who..."
"They mean nothing to me," Jack interrupted, his voice firm. "The only person I care about is you."
You searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and warmth reflected back at you. And in that moment, you realized that there was a chance that everything was about to change.
"Jack," you whispered. "I like you. More than just a best friend."
A smile spread across Jack's face, and before you knew it, he was leaning in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. As you melted into his embrace, you couldn't help but think that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the start of something truly special.
And in that tender moment when Jack's lips met yours, all your worries and insecurities seemed to slowly dissolve. There was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace.
You leaned into the kiss, relishing the sensation of Jack's lips against yours, his gentle touch sending shivers down your spine. It felt like a dream come true, something you had only dared to imagine in your wildest fantasies.
And as the kiss deepened, you were swept away by a rush of emotions – joy, relief, and an overwhelming sense of love. It was surreal to believe that Jack felt the same way about you, that he saw you as more than just a friend.
Then breaking away from the kiss, he looked into your eyes with a soft smile. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice brimming with sincerity.
And you couldn't help but smile back, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you. "Me too," you whispered, your heart overflowing with love for the man standing before you.
In that moment, everything felt perfect – the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in each other's embrace.
"So, you like me too, huh?" You chuckled lightly, breaking the silence that enveloped you.
"Yeah, probably have for a while
" Jack's admission was timid, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
"You should’ve said something," you spoke almost nervously, feeling a little ridiculous for not having had the courage to speak up sooner.
"Sorry, I was afraid you didn’t feel the same
" Jack's words were filled with regret.
You couldn't suppress a light laughter, the tension dissipating. "Jack, how could I not feel the same? Everyone likes you."
"Told you, to me you’re different. But I’m just happy that you do like me
 because I’m crazy about you," Jack confessed, his words filled with sincerity and warmth.
And with another kiss, you sealed the newfound relationship, the warmth of it echoing the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.
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forthechubbies · 2 months ago
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Love Thy Husband
Kingpin's Son!Choi San x Chubby arranged wife! Reader
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I:Love Thy Husband- II: Bring Me Home
3 month later 
In the heart of Namhae-eup..
Average as any other day, from the time you open your eyes and step out your room, your husband is missing, drowning you in eerily silent yet you feel relieved not having to be under his watchful eye. Bathtime it is then
Where does he go this early ? It’s 7:00am.
You fell into deep thought as the steam filled the bathroom and the running water acted as soft background ambience. Did he eat before he left?
 Why do I care if he’s eaten it’s not like he gives a hot damn about me
.the only time I get to leave is for “outings”. I’m arm candy, luckily, my veil isn’t great when it comes to eye contact and keeping conversation.
Your “wedding” came to mind~
The abrupt chime of the wedding bells sealed your doom. It was time to go. The heartbreaking realization felt like a jab in your chest, weakening you to your knees. In that moment, the hot tears streaming down your cheeks were impossible to hold back.
Your sorrowful whimpering brought your mother to your side, whispering words of encouragement and warmth. Yet, her comforting words only deepened your sadness within.
Your husband's mother even came over peacefully, expressing remorse and apologizing for her husband's actions. She knew she wasn't your ally right now, but she assured you, "San is a good boy. He wouldn't lay a hand on a woman if he knows what's good for him."
The sudden, warm grip beneath your arm startled you into stillness. "Are you alright?" His deep voice sent shivers racing up your spine. "We need to go." His voice started to irritate you, you know its not his fault he’s just following his monster of a father’s orders but you can’t help blaming him in some way out of bitterness since he appears to be content in his father’s choice.
“ Yn? I can carry you-“ San’s sweet offer was met with violence as you swing your gloved hand almost whacking him if not to his quick reflexing, his eyes shift from his large hand caging your tiny one back to your “face.”
San's brow furrows, his expression a mix of concern and self-reproach. This wasn’t his fault—he’s in the same boat as you, and yet he’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman since the moment you met just hours ago. And now, you dare to raise your hand towards him, or at least try to.
A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes—cute. With a delicate pinch, he catches the edge of your veil, playfully flicking it over your face. The harsh pink of your teary eyes and the soft curve of your nose tug at his heartstrings, though his expression remains stoic.
You gasp, clutching his arms as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet once more. "We have to go now, I’m sorry to rush you, sweetheart." His words come out in gentle, hesitant beats, each pause a reminder that English isn’t his first language. You wonder, fleetingly, what was.
Before you can respond, San steals a glance at his watch, then swiftly scoops you into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing at all.
You crossed your eyes, annoyed by the warmth in your cheeks where your memory began to fade. He’s strong..I will give him that..


The bubbles melt away your worries expect for one. I mean it’s not really a problem if I think he’s cute. He is my “ hubby”
.after all and I’m not even sure of what I saw . The small creaking in the floorboards was drowned by your soft music and humming. Meanwhile on the another side of the walls, San grunts as his back hits the top of the stairs,
Exhausted, your husband collapsed on the stairs, struggling to catch his breath. "Damn it, I really need to piss!" he groaned, throwing his head back in frustration, only to smack it against the step above.
"Ack! That hurt!" San hissed, rubbing the back of his head as irritation bubbled to the surface. Every little thing around him seemed to get under his skin, as if the entire world was conspiring to push him over the edge. "Why is everything so damn aggravating?" he muttered, the annoyance palpable in his voice.
In a surge of pure, unbridled fury, San slammed his fists into the wall, leaving a couple of gaping holes behind. The force of his anger also tore a large chunk of the railing from its mount, sending it crashing to the floor.
He stood there for a moment, seething, as his father's words echoed in his mind like a relentless drumbeat—orders and expectations suffocating him like a noose. Nothing will ever be good enough for him.
San's tie was the final straw, its constriction around his neck driving him to the edge. With a frustrated growl, he yanked the fabric down, as if tearing it away could somehow relieve the tension coiled inside him.
"When that girl bears you a son, you'll understand, my boy," his father had said, his voice dripping with a sincerity that only fueled San's anger. The words, meant to console, did nothing but fan the flames of his rage.
The unsettling sensation of being watched prickled at San, prompting him to glance over his shoulder. His eyes locked onto his wife, who was timidly peeking around the corner. The sight of his bare chest, revealed in his frustration, brought a flush to her cheeks as she took in his stunning yet indecent display.
In the blink of an eye, she vanished, the bathroom door slamming shut behind her with a force that echoed through the hall. Poor San stood there, his hand dropping awkwardly after she blatantly ignored his small, hesitant wave.
Rude, perhaps, or maybe she was frightened—of what, he couldn't fathom. His gaze drifted to the wall, and suddenly, his breath hitched. The sight before him was shocking: the rail piece he had been holding now lay on the floor, a victim of his accidental brute strength. "Oh," he muttered, his eyes wide with realization, "Oops."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the bathroom door, you felt trapped. His broad frame was blocking your only exit, and he was standing so close to the stairs that you knew there was no easy escape. Your room was upstairs, and you silently cursed yourself for choosing to use this bathroom instead of the one safely tucked away in your own space.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you finally summoned the courage to swing the door open. But as it creaked on its hinges, there stood San, closer than you anticipated, his presence filling the doorway.
San, his expression softened with concern, the tension between you palpable yet oddly comforting. His presence was overwhelming, but not in a suffocating way. It was as though the air around him carried a warmth that you hadn't noticed before, a gentle calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in your chest.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," San's voice was deep and soothing, a hint of apology lingering in his tone. He stepped back slightly, giving you the space you so desperately craved yet somehow didn't want anymore. His gaze never left yours, filled with an unexpected tenderness that made your heart flutter.
You exhaled, your shoulders relaxing slightly as you took in his sincere expression. "It's okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just
 wasn't expecting anyone."
A kitty.He looks like a cat. It feels like it’s been years since you’ve seen his face, his sharp eyes and glare give off a harsh aura despite his words and soft tone. Was it on purpose? You found it difficult to keep eye contact without getting flushed from his eyes but looking down at his exposed chest was a whole other problem. His whole handsome face is the problem, honestly.
"You're even cuter without your heels," he muttered, a sly grin playing on his lips as he took in how your smaller frame matched up to his. His eyes, though mischievous, stayed fixed on your face, a feigned act of respect, even as he relished how the flimsy white cloth clung to your plush curves, teasing him mercilessly. " I have to use the bathroom." He nods behind you.
You moved, swiftly out the way gripping your towel, allowing him to waltz into the bathroom.
He knows you like the difference between you and his bathtub, but this is the first time he's walked straight into the refreshing cloud you left behind. The sweet scent matched your soft body as you brushed past him, turning to close the door, but you were already long gone upstairs.
You gripped your towel tightly as you slid down the door, your knees weak beneath you. The embarrassment of being caught in such a state burned in your cheeks.He's even more handsome now than he was three months ago. It looks like he's been working out... I can see the definition of his muscles beneath his shirt.
The small scene replays in your mind, of him towering over you, yet you notice how he steps back, careful not to startle you. He's got this undeniable sass about him.. You notice his large hands resting on his hips and realize that his dress shoes have a slight heel, which clicks softly against the wooden floor.
Your heart skipped a beat hearing San's door close. You decided you definitely needed more fresh air, leading you down the road you're on now.
While you were enjoying yourself, you didn’t notice that you had triggered the house security alarm. Luckily, your husband was so sleepy that it went unnoticed for a full hour.
To make matters worse it wasn't your husband who discovered the alarm but his elders deciding on a surprise visit.
"San. San! Yah! Choi SAN!"
Talk about a rude awaking, Hongjoong Hyung sat in a lounging chair in the corner of the room, his left foot was extended before he crossed his legs. A strong jolt shook the bed, awaking up your tired hubby.
San groaned before looking at his elder who was simply unimpressed. "Hyung?.." He stretched his remaining remnants of his drowsiness. " What are you doing here?" He hung his head low as he spoke from tiredness? Or respect?
Seonghwa’s voice crashed like a thunderclap, delivering the news the elders had long dreaded, since they were notified about the house alarm that screamed through the home. "She’s gone." His deep voice words tore through the now thick, pregnant silence between Hongjoong and San. San’s chest tightened; enduring one scolding was enough.
Yet, only a fool would believe that Hongjoong's shadow was far behind.
"She's gone?!" San shot up from his bed, fully dressed despite his rumpled state, his eyes wide with disbelief. 'Are you serious?!' In an instant, he was out the door, leaping over furniture in his desperate rush to the front. The elders' voices called after him-
"He forgot his shoes," Seonghwa muttered, as he and Hongjoong stood outside, watching San disappear from sight, completely clueless about where he was headed.
Hongjoong clicked his teeth before stating." He forgot his common sense too. He's just running in a direction. Ah shi-" He then quickly raised his phone to his ear. " Yunho. We need a inner search party keep it under wraps from Choi senior. Clear?"
A firm 'Yes, Sir' ended the conversation as the line went dead immediately after.


To be continued..
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sounknownvoid · 1 month ago
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Dean saved the world? - show me receipts!
Im sorry but seeing that other post about Charlie thanking dean for saving the world just lit my head on fire!... so instead of hijacking someone else's post, decided to dash off my own...n It also got me thinking - we keep being TOLD that dean is a saviour n saved the world (while being SHOWN his horrible,terrible,abusive behaviours onscreen) repeatedly by other characters incl sam.... but - where'sthe evidence?... here's my quick little rundown - tell me if you can spot dean "saving the world"?... coz I really couldn't...I tried, I promise!
let's look at the world-ending events in the show shall we:
Apocalypse v1.0? - it was sam(swansong) doing the saving - n caused by DEAN breaking 1st seal by selling his soul n the winged rat actively being a co-conspirator n manipulator
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Godstiel (apocalypse2.0?) - sam again (remember him stabbing him to stop him while sam could barely stand?) - oh yeh n that was caused by asstiel too
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Leviathans (apocalypse 3?) - its borax & black goo spatter into purgatory - & also caused by asstiel n sam n dean had to stand him up
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Metatron & Angel fall at end of s8? - oh yeah, ALSO caused by asstiel and dean's emotional abuse pushing sam to "atone" - apocalypse 4?
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Gadreel&metatron n angels war - caused by DEAN, casstiel n oh yeah deano going off n getting moc rather than face consequences of his facilitating a rape on his little brother.... n only ended by those entities' own self destructive tendencies (gadreel) & Naomi ..apocalypse 5?
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Demon dean n moc-dean - dean's dumbassery caused it n sam ended 1xapocalyose (apocalypse 5) by agreeing to die at dean's hand n having dean banished as there was no cure -
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BUT last minute there WAS a cure ( thanks to SAM working away n recruiting people to work on one despite all being against him) n dean was freed from the moc,saving the world - yet again...
Apocalypse 6 aka the darkness - n yes here sam indeed started another apocalypse when he released the darkness to save dean - copyright winchester-brother stupidity and also because through s7-9 dean has been berating sam relentlessly n needs sam to prove how much he truly "wurves dean" lbr... sam obliged unknowingly n released the darkness
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n in alpha/omega n soul bomb holder dean DID TRY to save the world - but ACTUALLY wasn't necessary (& remember how throughout the season, he "couldn't kill the darkness") n basically returned as is...but uh with his mom...so pretty useless in terms of world-saving tbh imo...
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Bmol - sam saved...the USA - not necessarily the world - as they still exist in the UK still at end of that season...
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S13 - "oh look, we're running out of ideas,let's recycle: lucifer is out again" - casstiels fault n yes, dean makes another dumb deal and its SAM that hands him the blade to kill lucifer in that laughable cringey "battle royale" n then he promptly becomes the cause of yet another apocalypse as Michael!dean
S13-S14 - jack n chuck villain-arc - jack being born is not a world-ender in n of itself but it's sam that advocates for raising the all-powerful nephilim, Jack, with some decent values - batterred-wife though he is, by this stage.... but can we just agree that jack wasn't posing any threats to the world until he became soul-less n even then he's overcome with guilt n runs away n then is remorsefulonce hes got soul back? ... so no world-ending here..... until dean's stupidity (lets put jack in a box!) once again meant a powerful force aka jack here, was angry n unleashed upon the world - & then who went n got chuck to create a god-killer gun although, still no crushing the world agenda from jack still? - yeah u-know-who .... n who's so outta control that he wants to use jack as a soul-bomb to destroy God aka chuck - which IS a world-emding event potentially? - yep that'd be dumbass-dean...n who talks him off that ledge n saves the world potentially from THAT maybe-apocalypse? - that's right it's SAM!.... & who shot God/chuck? - SAM!...
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S15 - chuck as final villain - who noticed n came up with the plan to have jack absorb chucks powers n effectively install a new god?? - SAM! ....
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...so, WHEN & WHERE EXACTLY did DEAN 'save the world'?.... I want receipts!...
(no seriously tho, I'm happy to hear examples of dean saving the world for real)
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igotanidea · 9 months ago
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The fear : Jason Todd x fem!reader part 8
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
***
„You good?” Damian asked taking in her pale face and hurt eye expression.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She muttered, obviously lying. Even despite her experience-enhanced skills in the art of deceiving it was impossible to cover up for the fact that unwanted, unneeded and unwelcomed encounter with Jason took a huge tool on her mentality. And it lasted no longer than an hour.
An hour, that took turn from open hostility to a little unexpected heart to heart that opened old wounds. Reminding of the past mistakes, lost things and casted wounds. Ruined relationship that was doomed from the very beginning.
But even though-
They fought for it.
They fought to the best of their limited abilities, despite the world that was conspiring against them and throwing obstacles their way. Damn that tears that started flowing down her face when she started dwelling in the past. There was no denying she still held strong feelings for him, though couldn’t quite define if they were good ones or the bad ones.
“Y/N
”
“I’m fine, Damian. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine
” she repeated as some sort of spell. A lie told a hundred times becoming a reality.
“Let’s get you upstairs first. We’ll watch some silly movies so you could stop telling me bullshit.”
“Hey! Language!”
“I’m 15, you can’t tell me what to do.”
“15 my ass. Still the same nasty little boy as always only with a fouler mouth.”
“It’s good to see you again Y/N.” Damian smirked
“Yeah, you too, kiddo.”
“You do realise you won’t be heading back home tonight, right?”
“What? Huh! You’re gonna keep me captive now or something?”
“You voluntarily got yourself in the house full of vigilantes, the heck were you thinking?”
“I could argue on that voluntarily part but-“
Regardless of what she said, it was evident that Damian has grown during the time they didn’t see each other. Not only in height, but also mentally. And it only made her realise the full amount of things she lost.
Not just the man she loved, but also priceless time with her best friends Wayne boys.
While Y/N was getting drunk and laughed with Dick, Tim and Damian upstairs, Jason refused to step a foot out the batcave as long as she was still in the manor.
Fuck her.
Fuck her help, her words, her gestures, her eyes and hair, her smile and her coming for the rescue attitude. Who the hell she thought she was?! Paw patrol?!
The anger started boiling in him again, threatening to take over.
Anger at everything, but mostly at himself for getting so vulnerable and honest with her, to the point when he asked her to fucking take him back.
Pathetic. Foolish. Idiot.
“Aghghhg!” he jumped from the chair kicking it with all the rage he had, nearly breaking the metal.
Fighting the urge to destroy all that stupid batcave – the real reason of his fucked up life and psyche. He could have been a normal boy being in a relationship with the girl of his dreams. Instead he had to die (leaving her in tears), come back (leaving her in tears), suffering from the Pit madness (leaving her in tears) and due to this fucking fear gas incident loose her again (leaving her in tears)
“FUCK!” he grabbed the chair and threw it on the floor “FUCK!” he yelled, throwing all the stuff from the nearest desk “FUCK!!!” he pulled at his hair, hard enough he could be left bald.
He had no idea what he wanted.
So fucking angry, horn-mad, charged with hands itching to punch something, someone, to destroy, hurt, kill

Stop

“Huh?! Get the fuck out of my head Y/N!!” he yelled in the air, his voice echoing through the empty space.
Stop, Jason

Right. Stop. He was past his killing days. He was not a monster. Not a beast.
He changed. He grew up, matured, became a man and not a boy.
He had to get a hold of himself.
Move past the past.
If he couldn’t have her he might as well spend the evening with his crazy asses brothers, giving them his attitude, using the bad mood to banter and bicker and pick up on someone else to make himself feel better.
So he emerged from the batcave, almost in the same way he did emerge from the Pit.
Slowly heading upstairs.
To the main room, filled with surprising silence. Deafening silence that formed goosebumps on his arms and immediately put him on alert, searching for some kind of threat.
Vigilante instincts never fail.
There was some movement on the couch.
Two people, a man and a woman judging by the silhouettes.
Girl sitting on man's lap, straddling him, their hands all over each other, their lips moving together, the room filled with soft whines of pleasure and sweet whispers.
“Y/N
” the man whispered.
THE FUCK!?
Jason stomped inside without a care in the world, making the couple break the intense make-out session and look at him with terrified expressions.
“Grayson!!!” he yelled taking in the scene, his fury immediately raising head again. “Y/N!!!”
He was right.
There was someone else in her life already.
And that someone was the fuckboy - his older adoptive-brother.
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justporo · 2 months ago
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A Scorching Letter
Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU
PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3
A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.
Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...
Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw
-----
Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.
Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.
The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:
“My dearly beloved Staeve,
It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?
A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.
To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.
This time it is different though.
I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.
What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?
But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.
You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.
But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.
And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.
In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.
Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?
Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?
Only the heavens may know.”
The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.
The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:
“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.
I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.
The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.
You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking -  possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!
Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.
I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.
And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.
I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.
Back in that moment it surely felt like that.
But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”
Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had  been too powerful to not let out.
But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.
But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:
“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.
Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?
Aren’t we inevitable?
How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?
Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.
There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?
At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.
But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.
You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.
You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.
And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”
Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:
“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.
I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.
And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.
And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.
I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.
Forever yours,
Astarion”
As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.
Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.
With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.
~~~
The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.
That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.
His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.
Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.
So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.
That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.
“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”
Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.
But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.
“What?”
Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”
“Whoever has the time for that?”
“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”
Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.
Nita tried again.
“So have you?”
“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”
She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.
“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.
She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.
And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.
“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”
Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.
“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”
Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.
“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.
Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.
“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”
Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.
“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”
Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.
Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.
Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.
Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.
He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?
But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?
Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.
Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.
The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.
As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.
Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.
But the lights were off.
And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.
When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.
“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.
The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.
But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.
“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.
“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.
Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.
“When?” he screamed.
“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”
Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.
The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.
But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.
The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.
Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.
And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.
~~~
Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.
This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.
Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.
But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.
However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?
Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.
Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.
When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.
But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.
And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.
In front of him, the Duke AncunĂ­n kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.
“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”
“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.
“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.
The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.
“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”
Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.
But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.
The young AncunĂ­n let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.
“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.
“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.
“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.
Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.
The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.
“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.
“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.
Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.
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