#do that stupid assessment ur so behind on

[elikajinnie]

Hi!! Idk if you do actual Hogwarts crossover but Heeseung and Draco Malfoy in the same story would be a dream 🙌💞💞

Just a thought though… haha. I love your work!

I Am Not In Distress - L.H & D.M

a/n: .... i could kiss you.. i LOVE THIS! Thank you for ur support! Hope you enjoy<3

P: Slytherins!Heeseung & Draco Malfoy X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Rivalry, Tension, Teasing, Suggestive Content, Ambigious Ending, they both desperate for you.

Synopsis: Purebloods are bad news—that’s what you always told yourself. Yet here you are, caught between two of them, both determined to have you. And this? It’s far from a friendly rivalry.

now playing: heartless by the weeknd | alejandro by lady gaga | bored by ari abdul

hogwarts au masterlist

--

You disliked purebloods to an extent—not enough to hate them outright, but just enough to stay clear of most of them. It wasn’t hard to form that opinion, not when so many of them walked around with a superiority complex, like the simple fact of their lineage made them better than everyone else. Half-bloods? Muggleborns? Practically dirt under their expensive shoes.

Most of them were in Slytherin, of course, which only cemented the stereotype further. And while you knew not every Slytherin was like that, it was easier to assume the worst and keep your distance. You didn’t have the patience for their arrogance, their entitled sneers, or the way they always traveled in packs, like a group of sharks smelling blood.

Out of all of them, though, two stood out as the absolute worst in your book. Draco Malfoy and Lee Heeseung.

Both were practically Slytherin royalty, both pureblooded to their cores, and both annoyingly aware of it. Wherever they went, people trailed behind them like lost puppies—giggling, flattering, desperate for their approval. It was sickening. You never gave either of them a second glance, which wasn’t difficult considering they were always too busy basking in their own popularity. And honestly? You thought you’d never have a reason to interact with either of them. Hogwarts was a big school, after all. You could go years without crossing paths in any meaningful way.

Or so you thought.

One stupid dungbomb. That’s all it took. Filch had caught you red-handed, and before you could even think of an excuse, you were marched off to detention, grumbling all the way. Cleaning duty. Fine. You could deal with that.

But what you hadn’t expected—what you couldn’t believe—was that you’d be stuck in the same room with both Draco Malfoy and Lee Heeseung. Just the three of you.

Fantastic.

This was shaping up to be the longest detention of your life.

When they spotted you, their conversation halted mid-sentence. Both Heeseung and Draco turned their heads, their sharp gazes locking onto you like a pair of predators catching sight of their prey. You could feel their eyes tracing over every inch of you, sizing you up, as if your mere presence had somehow interrupted their perfect little world.

It was unnerving.... to say the least. Their stares weren’t casual—they were calculated, assessing, almost intrigued. You shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the hem of your robe as if that would somehow shield you from their scrutiny. Without sparing them another glance, you made your way to the table and began organizing the potion ingredients the way Professor Snape had instructed. If you focused on the task, maybe they’d leave you alone. Maybe you could get through this detention without having to speak to either of them.

But, of course, life wasn’t that kind.

“Well, well,” Heeseung drawled, his voice smooth and just a little too smug for your liking. “Who would’ve thought you’d end up in detention?”

You didn’t look up, keeping your eyes trained on the jars of dried herbs in front of you. “Yeah, real shocking,” you muttered under your breath, hoping he’d take the hint and drop it.

He didn’t.

Draco chimed in next, his tone dripping with his usual snide arrogance. “Didn’t take you for the type. I thought you were supposed to be all proper.” He let out a quiet laugh, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Or did I get that wrong? Maybe you're more suited to being a troublemaker.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to stay focused on the task at hand. You weren’t about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. “Maybe you should mind your own business,” you said evenly, not even sparing them a glance.

That only seemed to encourage them.

“Oh, don’t get all shy on us now,” Heeseung said, his voice laced with mock amusement. He stepped closer, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty room. “You’re already in detention with us. Might as well make the most of it.”

Draco chuckled at that, his laughter light but tinged with malice. “Exactly. It’s not every day we get to be with someone so... charming.”

The sarcasm in his voice was impossible to miss, and your patience was starting to wear thin. You slammed a jar of powdered asphodel down onto the table a little harder than necessary and finally turned to face them.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is,” you snapped, your eyes narrowing as you glared at them, “but I’m just here to serve my detention and leave. So why don’t you both do the same and stop bothering me?”

For a moment, they both just stared at you, as if surprised you’d actually spoken up. Then, to your irritation, Heeseung’s lips curved into a slow, amused smile.

“Feisty,” he remarked, his tone almost teasing. “I enjoy that.”

Draco smirked as well, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the table. “Careful, Heeseung,” he said, his voice dripping with mock warning. “You might scare her off.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the ingredients with a muttered, “Idiots.”

The three of you carried on with your assigned tasks in silence—at first. If you pretended hard enough, it was almost like you were alone in the room.

But, of course, they couldn’t leave you in peace for too long.

“Is it just me, or does she seem a little too focused on her work?” Heeseung mused aloud, his tone light and deliberately provoking.

Draco snickered. “Overcompensating, maybe? Trying to make up for their little... incident.”

You ignored them, carefully placing a jar of beetle eyes onto the shelf. They were just trying to get a rise out of you. If you didn’t react, they’d get bored and move on.

“Oi,” Heeseung called out after a moment, his voice laced with mock curiosity. “You’re not ignoring us, are you? That’d be rude, don’t you think, Draco?”

“Oh, very rude,” Draco agreed, feigning an exaggerated gasp. “But then again, I suppose we shouldn’t expect much better. Detention and manners don’t exactly go hand in hand, do they?”

You tightened your grip on the jar in your hand but still refused to look at them. Breathe in. Breathe out. They were just words. Nothing worth wasting your energy on.

“Think she’s mad at us?” Heeseung asked, leaning lazily against a nearby desk, his voice full of mock innocence. “I mean, it’s not like we’re the reason she’s here in detention. Are we?”

Draco chuckled, leaning forward slightly as if to get a better look at you. “Oh, I don’t think she’s mad, Heeseung. I think she’s just too embarrassed to talk to us. Can’t blame her, really.”

This time, you rolled your eyes but kept your mouth shut, stacking a few jars onto the shelf with more force than necessary. You could hear them snickering behind you, clearly pleased with themselves.

“Nothing to say?” Heeseung pressed, stepping closer, his voice taking on a teasing sing-song quality. “Come on, it’s not like we’re that scary. Are we, Draco?”

“Terrifying,” Draco said with a smirk. “Absolutely petrifying.”

You finally turned your head just enough to glare at them over your shoulder. “Do either of you ever shut up?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

Heeseung’s grin widened. “There it is,” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Knew you couldn’t hold out forever.”

You gritted your teeth, cursing yourself internally for giving them even the smallest reaction. Without another word, you turned back to your work.

“You know,” Draco said, clearly still enjoying himself, “it’s actually impressive how much restraint you’ve got. Most people would’ve cracked by now.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung agreed, his tone dripping with amusement. “But I think we can do better, don’t you?”

Fantastic. They’d taken your response as a challenge.

The rest of detention dragged on painfully, with both Draco and Heeseung continuing their relentless teasing. It was as if they’d made a silent pact to see who could irritate you the most.

Draco started by pretending to inspect your work. He sauntered over, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the ingredients you’d just organized. “Hmm,” he muttered, tapping his chin dramatically. “You’ve mislabeled this one, you know. Wouldn’t want Snape to find out, would you? He’s not exactly forgiving when it comes to incompetence.”

You didn’t even glance at him, your voice flat as you replied, “I didn’t mislabel anything, Malfoy.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, picking up a jar and holding it just out of your reach. “So confident, aren’t you? Let’s see… powdered bicorn horn, is it? Or was it powdered something-else-entirely?”

“That is powdered bicorn horn, genius,” you shot back, snatching the jar from his hand and placing it firmly on the shelf. “Try harder.”

Draco blinked, as though surprised you didn’t falter, but the smirk quickly returned to his face. “Not bad,” he said, a lazy drawl in his voice. “But I wasn’t wrong about Snape, you know. One slip-up, and you’ll be scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the year.”

“Good thing I don’t make mistakes, then,” you retorted, already turning your back on him.

Draco huffed softly but didn’t push further—for now. Heeseung, however, decided it was his turn.

“You’re pretty quick with comebacks,” Heeseung remarked, his voice smooth as silk. He leaned against the table next to you, watching you carefully. “Must’ve had a lot of practice, huh? Who do you argue with so much? Your friends? Or maybe your professors? Bet they love you.”

You exhaled sharply, doing your best to ignore him. Heeseung’s teasing was less obvious than Draco’s, but it was no less infuriating. He had a way of making everything he said sound like a compliment, even when it clearly wasn’t.

“You know, it’s kind of impressive,” he continued, smirking when you didn’t answer. “I mean, most people would’ve lost their temper by now. You’re… stubborn.” He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Or is it pride? Which one is it?”

“Neither,” you muttered, slamming another jar onto the shelf. “It’s called wanting to finish this detention without having to listen to you two.”

“Ah, so you are listening,” Heeseung teased, his grin widening.

You clenched your jaw, refusing to take the bait. If you kept engaging with them, this detention would feel even longer than it already did. You just had to make it through this. Just a little longer.

But they weren’t done yet.

“Do you think she’s always this serious?” Draco asked Heeseung, loud enough for you to hear. “I mean, look at her. Practically fuming. It’s like she’s never heard of having a bit of fun.”

“Probably doesn’t know how to have fun,” Heeseung agreed, shaking his head mockingly. “Sad, really.”

“Very sad,” Draco echoed with a smirk.

It wasn’t until the end of detention that they finally let up, though not without a parting shot.

As you were putting away the last of the ingredients, Heeseung leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “You know, this wasn’t so bad. We should do it again sometime.”

Draco snorted, smirking as he added, “Yeah. Let us know next time you get caught. We’d hate to miss out.”

You shot them both a glare before turning on your heel and leaving the room without another word. Their laughter followed you out, echoing down the corridor.

As frustrating as it had been, you were proud of yourself for not giving them the reaction they’d wanted—at least, not entirely. But as you walked back to your dorm, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking suspicion that this wasn’t the last time they’d try to get under your skin....

Turns out, your guess was absolutely, fucking correct.

The very next day in History of Magic, you settled into your usual seat near the back of the classroom, fully prepared to endure another hour of Professor Binns’ dull droning. Your plan was simple: take notes, avoid eye contact with anyone, and maybe even catch up on some homework if Binns got too repetitive. Easy.

Or so you thought.

The first sign that your day was about to spiral downward was the sound of a chair scraping obnoxiously close beside you. You looked up, confused, only to see Draco lowering himself gracefully into the seat next to yours, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His smirk was already in place, and you could feel your blood pressure rising.

Before you could even process his sudden and unwelcome appearance, Heeseung dropped into the seat on your other side with the kind of casual arrogance that only someone like him could pull off. He leaned back lazily, his long legs stretching out under the desk as if he owned the entire classroom.

“Morning,” Heeseung said smoothly, as if the two of you were old friends.

Draco didn’t bother with pleasantries, instead glancing at you with a raised eyebrow and a mocking smile.

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a moment as you stared at the two boys flanking you. They were both watching you expectantly, like they were waiting for some kind of reaction.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” you hissed, your voice low enough to avoid attracting Binns’ attention.

Draco shrugged, his expression annoyingly smug. “What does it look like? Sitting. Breathing. Existing.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Heeseung added, his lips twitching with amusement.

“Plenty of empty seats,” you snapped, gesturing to the rest of the classroom. “Go exist somewhere else.”

Draco leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the desk as he tilted his head toward you. “Why would we do that when we’ve got you right here?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could respond, Heeseung cut in. “Don’t be so cold. We’re just here to keep you company. You looked a little lonely.”

“Lonely?” you repeated, incredulous. “I was perfectly fine until you two showed up.”

“Exactly,” Draco said, smirking. “Too fine. Can’t have that, can we?”

You groaned quietly, dragging a hand down your face. Of all the people in the school, why did they have to decide you were worth bothering?

Class started, and you tried your best to ignore them, determined to focus on Professor Binns’ lecture. But, of course, neither Draco nor Heeseung had any intention of letting that happen.

Every few minutes, one of them would whisper some snide remark or another, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Do you even understand what Binns is saying?” Draco muttered at one point, leaning closer to you. “Sounds like he’s speaking Mermish, doesn’t it?”

You ignored him, scribbling furiously in your notebook.

“She’s actually taking notes,” Heeseung whispered to Draco, his voice dripping with fake awe. “How noble.”

“Very noble,” Draco agreed. “But, then again, she does have a reputation to uphold. Isn’t that right?”

You gripped your quill tighter, willing yourself to stay calm.

When you didn’t respond, Heeseung leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you really going to keep ignoring us all class? That’s no fun.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give them the satisfaction of looking at them.

Draco, clearly delighted by your silence, smirked and added, “Maybe she’s just shy, Heeseung. You know how it is. Some people get nervous around greatness.”

At that, your quill snapped in half.

The sound was loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby students, but thankfully, Binns remained as oblivious as ever. You let out a slow, frustrated breath, carefully setting the broken quill down before turning to glare at the two of them.

“What do you want?” you hissed, your voice low but venomous.

They exchanged a glance, their smirks widening.

“To keep you entertained,” Heeseung said innocently.

“Consider it a public service,” Draco added with a mock bow of his head.

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your notes. “You’re both insufferable.”

“Thanks,” Heeseung said with a grin, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.

For the rest of class, they didn’t let up, continuing until you were practically counting down the seconds until the end. By the time class was over, your nerves were completely frayed. Bolting upright, you were determined to escape the classroom and leave Draco and Heeseung behind. But before you could even take two steps, you felt a hand at your waist.

You froze, glancing down to see Heeseung’s arm wrapping itself around you in a way that was far too casual for your liking. His hand rested lightly at your side, as if this was something he did every day.

“What are you doing?” you asked sharply, trying to twist away, but his grip only tightened—gentle, but firm enough to stop you from slipping free.

“Relax,” he said smoothly, his tone far too self-assured. “Just thought I’d help you out. Wouldn’t want you to get lost on your way to class, after all.”

You glared at him, but before you could retort, Draco sauntered up beside you. “Heeseung’s right,” he drawled. “We are all headed to the same place, after all. It would be terribly rude of us not to walk you there.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You tried to step away again, but Heeseung matched your pace effortlessly, keeping his arm firmly around your waist as he steered you toward the door.

“See? She appreciates it,” Heeseung said, ignoring your tone entirely.

Draco chuckled, falling into step on your other side. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t say thank you,” you shot back, glaring at them both.

“Not out loud,” Draco said, his smirk widening. “But I can tell you’re grateful. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, deciding that arguing with them would only make things worse. Instead, you focused on walking as quickly as possible, hoping to reach your next class and put some distance between yourself and the two infuriating Slytherins.

Unfortunately, they seemed to have other plans.

As the three of you made your way down the corridor, Heeseung kept his arm firmly in place, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Draco, meanwhile, kept up a steady stream of commentary, most of it designed to annoy you.

“Do you always walk this fast?” Draco asked at one point, easily keeping up with your hurried pace. “Or are you just trying to get away from us?”

“Obviously the second one,” you muttered, not bothering to look at him.

Heeseung chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he guided you around a corner. “Aw, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to be friendly.”

“This is what you call ‘friendly’?” you shot back.

“Of course,” Draco said, his smirk never faltering. “You should consider yourself lucky, really. We don’t do this for just anyone.”

“Oh, I feel so special,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

“You should,” Heeseung replied, his tone teasing. “Not everyone gets to be escorted to class by the two most charming people in Hogwarts.”

You snorted. “Charming? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” Draco said, clearly enjoying himself.

By the time you finally reached the door to your next class, your patience was hanging by a thread. As you tried to step away, Heeseung finally released his hold on your waist, but not before leaning down slightly and murmuring, “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You shot him a glare, but before you could respond, Draco spoke up. “Looks like we’re all here,” he said, glancing into the classroom.

You groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to bang your head against the nearest wall. This was going to be a long day.

You slipped away from them quickly, weaving through the rows of desks until you found a seat at the very front of the class. If there was one place they wouldn’t dare to bother you, it was here—right under the professor’s nose. At least, that’s what you hoped.

You were determined to focus, to shake off whatever bizarre fixation Draco and Heeseung had developed on you since detention.

But, of course, you should have figured it out by now. Once you had their attention—for whatever inexplicable reason—they weren’t going to let up.

You’d barely settled into your seat when you heard the faint scrape of chairs moving directly behind you. Your stomach dropped as you turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the two boys taking the seats directly behind yours, looking far too pleased with themselves.

Heeseung leaned forward, resting his arms casually on the edge of your desk. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low so only you could hear, “running away isn’t very polite. We walked you here, after all.”

“Not to mention,” Draco added from your other side, “we were hoping for a nice little chat. But here you are, acting like we’re some kind of nuisance.”

“Because you are,” you hissed under your breath, glaring at them both.

Draco feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest dramatically. “How cruel. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Keep dreaming, Malfoy,” you muttered, turning back to face the front of the class.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Heeseung said, his tone light and teasing. He poked you lightly with the end of his quill. “We’re just trying to make your day more exciting.”

“By annoying me?” you shot back, swatting his quill away.

“Exactly,” he replied with a grin.

Before you could retort, the professor entered the room, and the class fell into a semblance of quiet. You let out a relieved breath, grateful for the temporary reprieve. Surely, they wouldn’t risk drawing attention to themselves now—not with a professor watching.

But you should’ve known better.

Throughout the lecture, you felt the occasional nudge against the back of your chair—Heeseung, no doubt, trying to get your attention. You ignored him. Then there was the faint sound of parchment being crumpled, followed by a soft thud as a tiny ball of paper landed on your desk.

You unfolded it reluctantly, your irritation mounting.

Inside, in Draco’s neat handwriting, was a single line: “Having fun yet?”

You crumpled the paper back up and tossed it over your shoulder without a word, not caring where it landed. You heard Draco chuckle softly behind you, clearly amused by your reaction.

A few minutes later, another paper ball landed on your desk. This time, it was from Heeseung, the writing messier but just as irritating: “You know you can’t keep this up forever, right?”

You sighed, your patience wearing thin. Without looking back, you scribbled a reply on the paper and tossed it over your shoulder.

It wasn’t long before you heard Draco snicker. “Looks like she finally have something to say.”

Heeseung unfolded the paper and read your message, keeping his voice low. “Leave me alone before I hex you both into next week.”

“Hex us?” Draco repeated, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. “How positively violent.”

“Indeed,” Heeseung added with a grin.

By the time class ended, you were practically bolting for the door, hoping to escape before they could follow. But, of course, they were right on your heels, flanking you once again as you stepped into the hallway.

“See?” Draco said, falling into step beside you. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I barely noticed you were there,” you lied, shooting him a sideways glare.

“Ouch,” Heeseung said, clutching his chest dramatically. “You really know how to hurt a guy, don’t you?”

You quickened your pace, hoping they’d get bored and leave you alone. But as they continued to trail after you, still grinning like they’d won some kind of game.

You were practically weaving through the crowd of students filling the hallways. Surely, they had better things to do than to keep following you like persistent shadows?

Right?

But, of course, they didn’t.

“So,” Heeseung said casually, keeping stride beside you as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “What’s next on your schedule? Care to share?”

“I bet it’s something riveting,” Draco added on your other side, his smirk firmly in place. “Like Herbology or... Divination.”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to answer.

“Silent treatment again?” Heeseung asked, leaning slightly closer. “You know, that’s starting to hurt my feelings.”

“I didn’t realize you had feelings,” you shot back before you could stop yourself, your frustration finally bubbling to the surface.

Draco let out a bark of laughter, clearly delighted. “There it is! Knew you couldn’t stay quiet forever.”

“Careful, Malfoy,” you said sharply, stopping in your tracks to glare at both of them. “If you keep pushing me, you’ll find out exactly how much quieter your life will be with a Silencing Charm.”

“Oh, scary,” Heeseung teased, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes that made you want to hex him right then and there.

Draco, ever the instigator, stepped closer with that same irritating smirk. “Go on, then. Let’s see it. I could use a good laugh before our next class.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

Heeseung, clearly enjoying himself, stepped in as if to defuse the tension—though his tone was anything but sincere. “Now, now, let’s not resort to violence. We wouldn’t want anyone to get detention again, would we?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving past them both and continuing down the hallway. “I don’t have time for this,” you muttered under your breath, hoping they’d finally take the hint.

But, they didn’t.

Instead, they followed you all the way to your next class.

“Should we place bets on where she’s sitting this time?” Draco mused aloud as you entered the classroom.

“I’m guessing front and center,” Heeseung replied, trailing after you. “Seems like their style.”

You ignored them completely, choosing a seat near the middle of the room this time.

And the moment you sat down, they flanked you on either side, their presence looming before you could even pull out your notes. Heeseung plopped into the seat on your right, draping one arm casually over the back of your chair, while Draco claimed the seat on your left with his usual air of entitlement.

“Miss us?” Heeseung asked, flashing you an infuriating grin.

“Not even a little,” you replied, your tone flat.

“Liar,” Draco said smoothly, leaning just enough to invade your personal space. “Admit it. You’d be bored out of your mind without us.”

“I was doing just fine before you two started this little... whatever this is,” you shot back, glaring between them.

“‘This little whatever this is’?” Heeseung repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Ouch. You’re really struggling with words today, huh? Must be the company.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the professor walked into the room, signaling the start of class. “Will you two just—”

“Shh,” Draco interrupted, holding a finger to his lips. “Class is starting. Let’s be respectful, shall we?”

You shot him a glare, but he only grinned in response, clearly pleased with himself.

For the next hour, they both continued their antics—soft whispers, poking at your notes, and the occasional “accidental” nudge to your arm. Every time you tried to focus, one of them would find some new way to distract you, and by the end of the lesson, your patience was hanging by a thread.

As soon as the professor dismissed the class, you bolted from your seat, determined to escape before they could follow you again.

But, they were right behind you in an instant.

“So,” Heeseung said as the three of you stepped into the hallway, “what’s next? Lunch? Study session?”

“Or,” Draco added, his smirk widening, “are you finally going to admit that you enjoy our company and stop running away?”

You stopped in your tracks, spinning around to face them both with an exasperated glare. “Why are you two so obsessed with bothering me?”

They exchanged a glance, their smirks never faltering.

“Because it’s fun,” Heeseung said simply, shrugging.

“And because you’re so bad at ignoring us,” Draco added, his tone practically gleeful.

You groaned, turning back around and storming off down the hallway. “You two are unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath.

You were on the verge of snapping, your fists clenched at your sides as Draco and Heeseung trailed after you like determined shadows.

And just when you thought you’d never get a moment of peace, salvation arrived.

“Draco! Heeseung!”

A loud, familiar voice rang out from the end of the corridor. You glanced up to see a group of Slytherins heading toward you. Blaise Zabini was leading the pack, with Pansy Parkinson and a few others following close behind, their expressions curious as they spotted the two boys at your side.

“Oh, great,” you muttered under your breath, praying that this didn’t somehow make things worse.

“Looks like our friends are here,” Heeseung said, his grin widening as Blaise reached them.

“Friends?” Draco drawled, shooting you a quick, smug glance before turning to greet the others. “They’re more like pests.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Blaise retorted with a smirk, crossing his arms as his gaze flickered to you. “And who’s this? Your new... project?”

You bristled at the comment, opening your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Pansy cut in.

“Draco, Heeseung,” she said, her voice dripping with honey, “we’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you two doing hanging around here?” Her eyes flickered to you briefly, but she didn’t seem all that interested.

Draco waved her off lazily. “Just having some fun.”

“With her?” Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You decided that was your cue to leave. With their attention now firmly on Draco and Heeseung, you took a slow step backward, careful not to draw attention to yourself.

To your immense relief, neither of them seemed to notice as you slipped away, blending into the crowd of students moving through the hallway.

Once you were out of sight, you quickened your pace, weaving through the corridors until you reached the library.

Finding an empty table near the back, you set your things down and let out a relieved sigh. Finally, some peace.

You pulled out your notes, determined to get some studying done before your next class. For the first time all day, you felt like you could actually breathe without the weight of two smirking Slytherins bearing down on you.

But as you started reviewing your notes, a nagging thought crept into your mind: why had they suddenly decided to fixate on you? And more importantly, how long would it last?

Whatever their reasons, you weren’t going to let them distract you any more than they already had.

Finally, without Draco and Heeseung’s incessant teasing, you could concentrate. The words on the page seemed to make sense again as you worked through your assignments, your quill scratching quietly against the parchment.

You were so immersed in your work that you didn’t notice someone approaching until they were right next to your table.

“Found you,” a familiar voice said, smooth and far too smug.

Your head snapped up, and your heart sank as you saw Draco standing there, his arms crossed.

Behind him, Heeseung strolled in, looking far too pleased with himself as he dropped into the chair across from you. “Nice hiding spot,” he said, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. “Took us a minute to figure out where you’d run off to.”

You stared at them, utterly dumbfounded. “Are you serious? Do you two not have anything better to do?”

“Not really,” Heeseung replied with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious.

“We were bored,” Draco added, sliding into the seat beside you without waiting for an invitation. He propped his chin on his hand, turning to you with an almost lazy smile. “And you’re far more entertaining than whatever Blaise and Pansy were droning on about.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “What do you even want from me?”

Draco leaned closer, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel conspiratorial. “What’s wrong with wanting to spend time with you?”

“Plenty,” you snapped, your tone sharp. “Because I don’t want to spend time with you.”

Heeseung let out a low chuckle, clearly unbothered by your hostility. “See, that’s what makes this fun. Most people fall over themselves to get on our good side. But you?” He gestured to you. “You’re not afraid to tell us off. It’s refreshing.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your notes in the hopes that ignoring them might make them leave. “I don’t care if you find it refreshing. Go bother someone else.”

But, of course, they stayed put.

Draco pulled one of your books closer to him, flipping through it idly. “History of Magic? Boring,” he commented, wrinkling his nose.

Heeseung leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he peered at your notes. “Are you really studying, or are you just pretending so we’ll leave you alone?”

You slapped your hand down over your parchment, glaring at him. “I was studying until you showed up.”

Draco laughed, tossing the book aside. “ Admit it. You’d miss us if we left you alone.”

“I’d celebrate if you left me alone,” you shot back.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Heeseung said, leaning even closer. “You’ll hurt our feelings.”

“I doubt either of you has feelings,” you muttered under your breath, turning your attention back to your notes.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

For the next few minutes, they continued their antics—poking at your books, making sarcastic comments about your notes, and generally being as insufferable as possible.

But then Madam Pince’s sharp voice cut through the air. “If you three can’t keep it down, I’ll have you removed from the library!”

You seized the opportunity, shooting to your feet and gathering your things. “Good idea,” you said, your tone clipped. “I’ll remove myself.”

Before they could say anything, you slipped past them and hurried out of the library, your heart pounding with equal parts irritation and relief.

--

Another thing you hated about pureblood Slytherins was their egos—massive, sky-high, and unrelenting. It would take a catastrophic event to bring them down a peg. And because of that ego, they always went for things that would feed it, things that would boost their status, power, and sense of superiority. They believed they deserved the best—whether it was fame, wealth, influence, or...

Well, apparently you.

Which made absolutely no sense.

Because here you were, in the middle of yet another detention (this time for hexing a Gryffindor who wouldn’t take no for an answer—big deal), and somehow, somehow, you’d ended up against the wall of the empty Potions classroom.

Kissing Heeseung.

Your brain struggled to catch up with the situation, thoughts running in frantic circles as his lips pressed firmly against yours. It wasn’t soft or hesitant, no—it was confident and teasing, much like the boy himself.

How the hell had it come to this?

Just moments ago, you’d been sitting at your desk, silently fuming as Snape rattled off on a long lecture before leaving you to clean up the mess of spilled potion ingredients. Heeseung, had been there too, lounging in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” he had said, leaning back with an infuriating grin. “Hexing people now? You’re starting to sound like us, you know.”

“Don’t lump me in with you,” you’d snapped, aggressively scrubbing the cauldron in front of you.

“Why not? You’ve got the temper for it,” he’d teased, standing up and sauntering closer.

You’d turned to glare at him, your grip tightening on the rag in your hand. “Say that again, and I’ll hex you next.”

“Oh, scary,” he’d murmured, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. “Go ahead. Hex me. I dare you.”

And then, before you could even think of a retort, he’d closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours with the same audacity that he carried in everything he did.

Now, here you were, pinned against the cold stone wall, your heart racing and your hands frozen mid-air as he kissed you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your first coherent thought was to push him off, and you did—your palms pressing against his chest as you shoved him back. He stepped away with a smirk, completely unbothered, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

Heeseung tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “What does it look like? It’s called kissing.”

“You don’t just—just do that!” you sputtered, your cheeks burning with anger.

“Why not?” he asked, his tone maddeningly casual. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” he said smoothly, running a hand through his hair like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

“Don’t thank me—it wasn’t a compliment!” you snapped, still trying to wrap your head around what had just happened.

Heeseung laughed softly, stepping closer again—but this time, you pressed your back firmly against the wall, holding up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warned, your eyes narrowing.

“Relax,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Because it wouldn’t happen even if you tried.”

“Really?” he asked, as he leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Because I think you liked it.”

Your jaw dropped, and you opened your mouth to argue—but no words came out.

Because, unfortunately, a very small part of you had liked it.

And from the way Heeseung was looking at you, he knew it too.

That brief moment of hesitation—barely a second—was all Heeseung needed.

Before you could pull yourself together or think of something sharp to say, he closed the distance again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was different. It wasn’t rushed or teasing—it was confident, and demanding.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your hands shot up to push him back, but he was faster. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, and with a swift movement, he pinned them above your head against the stone wall.

The shift startled you, and your lips parted to protest, but Heeseung used the moment to deepen the kiss, groaning softly into your mouth as his body pressed against yours.

Your heart was racing, pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. You hated the way his touch sent a shiver down your spine, hated the way his lips moved against yours like he knew exactly what he was doing.

But most of all, you hated that you weren’t stopping him.

It had been a while—a long while—since you’d let anyone get this close to you. And you couldn’t deny that Heeseung was... handsome. Annoyingly so. And, as much as it pained you to admit, a damn good kisser.

You fought it at first, your pride screaming at you to push him off, to put him back in his place. But the longer the kiss went on, the harder it was to ignore the way your body was betraying you by leaning into his.

Heeseung must’ve felt the shift because his grip on your wrists loosened slightly, as he realized you weren’t resisting anymore.

So, you let yourself indulge, just for a moment. Your lips moved against his, tentative at first, then more certain as you gave in.

His groan deepened, vibrating against your mouth, and the sound sent another shiver down your spine. His hands slid from your wrists, releasing you as his palms settled on your waist instead, pulling you closer.

For a moment, it was easy to forget where you were, easy to ignore the fact that this was Heeseung, an insufferable pureblood Slytherin.

But the moment couldn’t last forever.

The sharp creak of the classroom door opening snapped you out of it like a bucket of cold water.

You shoved Heeseung away, your breath coming in quick, uneven pants as you turned toward the sound. Filch’s scruffy silhouette loomed in the doorway, his squinting eyes scanning the room suspiciously.

“What’s all this noise?” he barked, his voice gravelly and accusing.

Your face burned as you quickly stepped away from Heeseung, who looked frustratingly calm and unbothered, like he hadn’t just kissed you senseless against the wall.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, smoothing down your robes and hoping your flushed face wasn’t too obvious.

Filch grumbled something under his breath before narrowing his eyes at the both of you. “Get back to work,” he snapped, before turning and stomping off down the hallway.

As the door slammed shut behind him, you turned to glare at Heeseung, who was watching you with a satisfied smile, his hair slightly mussed and his lips still pink from the kiss.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you hissed, keeping your voice low just in case Filch was still nearby.

Heeseung shrugged, his smirk only widening. “You didn’t seem to mind it by the end.”

Your face burned again, and you clenched your fists, tempted to hex him on the spot. “Don’t push your luck.”

He stepped closer, leaning down just enough to whisper in your ear. “If that’s how you react when you resist, I can’t wait to see how you act when you’re not trying to fight it.”

Before you could respond—either with words or violence—he was already moving away, leaving you standing there, furious, flustered, and more confused than ever.

--

Okay, so maybe kissing Heeseung wasn’t that bad. The guy had practically acted desperate for it, like he’d been waiting for that moment forever. And fine, you’d kind of enjoyed it.

But you’d sworn to yourself—repeatedly, in fact—that it would never, ever, in a million, trillion, gazillion years, happen again. You wouldn’t allow it.

…Except, apparently, self-control was harder than you thought.

Because here you were, pressed up against the cold stone wall near the Slytherin common room, Heeseung’s robes fanning out around you as he shielded you from view, his hand gripping the side of your neck while his lips moved hungrily against yours.

Your hands weren’t much better—they had a mind of their own, one gripping his tie and the other clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

It was reckless. It was stupid. It was everything you’d sworn you wouldn’t let happen again.

And yet, when his thumb brushed the sensitive skin of your jaw and his tongue grazed your lower lip, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Heeseung broke the kiss for just a second, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

“You’re terrible at keeping promises to yourself, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and slightly ragged.

“Shut up,” you muttered, but there wasn’t any real bite to it, not with the way your chest was heaving and your fingers were still gripping his tie.

Heeseung chuckled softly, leaning down to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw, making your breath hitch.

“This is a bad idea,” you said, even as you tilted your head to give him better access.

“The worst,” he agreed, his voice muffled against your skin.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you added, your fingers tightening in his shirt.

“Then stop me,” he challenged, pulling back just enough to look at you, his smirk creeping back now.

You hated how smug he looked, like he knew you wouldn’t actually do it. And the worst part? He was right.

Instead of pushing him away, you pulled him closer, tugging on his tie and crashing your lips back onto his. His quiet groan vibrated against your mouth as his hand slid down to your waist, gripping you like he was afraid you might change your mind.

But you didn’t.

At least, not until the sound of approaching footsteps made both of you freeze.

Heeseung cursed under his breath, quickly adjusting his robes and stepping back just enough to make it look like nothing had happened. You smoothed down your hair and robes in record time, silently praying that whoever was coming wouldn’t notice how flushed you looked.

A group of Slytherin students rounded the corner, laughing and talking amongst themselves. One of them narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the two of you as he passed.

“What are you doing lurking out here?” he asked, his tone dripping with suspicion.

“Just talking,” Heeseung said smoothly, flashing one of his charming smiles.

The slytherin didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and kept walking, the rest of the group following him into the common room.

As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, turning to glare at Heeseung.

“This is why I said it was a bad idea,” you hissed.

Heeseung grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Bad ideas are more fun, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him as you headed down the hallway. “Don’t get used to it, Heeseung. It’s not happening again.”

“Whatever you say,” he called after you, his tone confident. “But you’re terrible at keeping promises, remember?”

You didn’t bother responding, but the heat creeping up your neck told you that, once again, he was probably right.

And he was right… again, and again, and again.

It was infuriating how easily Heeseung managed to worm his way back to you, over and over. At first, it was once a day—a moment between classes or in an empty corridor. Then once became twice, twice became four, and before you knew it... you’d lost count.

It was like he’d memorized your schedule, always managing to find you at the exact moment you were alone. Whether it was slipping into an empty classroom, pulling you into a alcove, or even cornering you in the library when no one else was around, Heeseung always found a way.

And the worst part? You let him.

Every time, you told yourself it would be the last. Every time, you promised you’d shove him away, hex him, or at least say no. But the moment his lips were on yours, his hands gripping your waist or threading through your hair, your resolve crumbled like parchment in a fire.

And it was always him who started it—Heeseung who instigated, Heeseung who sought you out, Heeseung who acted like you were his personal secret to keep.

And you hated yourself for how much you didn’t hate it.

This time, it was in an empty stairwell, tucked away from prying eyes. You barely had time to register his presence before he was there, his hand grabbing yours and pulling you into the shadowed corner.

“Heeseung,” you hissed, but he didn’t give you a chance to protest.

His lips crashed onto yours with the same familiar desperation, one hand curling around the back of your neck while the other slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasped into his mouth, fingers curling into his robes before you could stop yourself.

“Missed you,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice low and breathless.

“You saw me two hours ago,” you muttered, but your words were muffled as he kissed you again, stealing away whatever resistance you’d managed to muster.

Two hours, four hours, it didn’t matter. The way he kissed you made it feel like he’d been waiting an eternity.

And it was addictive.

“People are going to notice,” you said between kisses, your hands gripping his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping you upright.

“Let them,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, though you knew he didn’t mean it. Whatever this was between you, it was still a secret. A forbidden, reckless secret that you both somehow managed to keep under wraps.

For now.

But Heeseung didn’t seem to care about the risk. If anything, it only seemed to fuel him.

“Stop overthinking,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw before trailing down your neck. You shivered, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his robes as he pressed a particularly firm kiss just below your ear.

For someone you were supposed to dislike, Heeseung had a way of making you forget all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

You would’ve thought that someone would’ve noticed. With the way things were escalating, it seemed impossible that no one had caught on. But somehow, miraculously, no one did. You figured you and Heeseung would keep this up for a while, maybe until one of you got bored, or until your resistance finally cracked through.

But of course, that didn’t happen.

Instead, what happened was Draco.

It started off like any other day—just another class, just another moment when you were certain you’d get through the day without any major complications. You were walking down the hall, trying to get to the library for a study session when you felt a familiar, irritating presence looming just behind you.

You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Draco. The smug aura he exuded practically followed him like a cloud.

But then, before you could even make the decision to ignore him, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you to a stop.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, a sharp edge to your voice as you yanked your wrist back.

“I think we need to talk,” Draco said, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light you didn’t trust for a second.

You crossed your arms, eyeing him with suspicion. “What, about what? How much of a pain you are?”

“Something like that,” he murmured.

You barely had time to react before Draco closed the gap between you, one hand gripping your shoulder as he pulled you towards him. His lips pressed against yours with a force you hadn’t expected, and your body tensed in shock.

It wasn’t like Heeseung’s kisses, not in the least. Where Heeseung was often teasing, in a way that made you shiver, Draco was… commanding. He kissed you like he thought he had every right to, like there was no room for resistance.

Your first instinct was to push him away, but then you froze. Your body didn’t react the way it had with Heeseung—there was no heat flooding your chest, no rush of excitement. Instead, you were caught between the confusion of why this was happening and the overwhelming sense of deja vu.

Draco pulled back just slightly, looking at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Surprised, aren’t you?”

You blinked, still trying to process what the hell had just happened. “Why would you—”

“Because I can,” Draco interrupted smoothly, his tone all too familiar, like he was enjoying this more than he should.

You scoffed, trying to push him off, but his grip on your shoulder tightened, keeping you locked in place. "You’re insane,” you muttered.

“Yeah," Draco said with a smirk. "But you’ll always remember that i gave you attention.”

And with that, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, dazed and more confused then ever.

Well, this was a lost cause.

You really didn’t know if they had taken something, or if you had somehow been sprayed down by some potion that made them act this way. Or maybe they’d both gone completely mad. Because now, you were stuck in this strange, twisted mess where both Heeseung and Draco seemed to think they had the right to kiss you whenever they felt like it. And worse, you couldn’t resist.

Every time they were near, your resolve crumbled faster than you could rebuild it. One would find you in the hallway, the other in the library, and then it would happen again. Another kiss. Another moment you had no control over.

It was maddening, but also… tempting.

There was a part of you that couldn’t deny it. Sure, you could resist them, keep pushing them away, but what was the fun in that? Attention like this didn’t come regularly at all. Hell, it wasn’t normal for anyone to have two arrogant, handsome Slytherins fighting for their attention. And if you were honest, even just for a second, you kind of liked it.

So why not have a little fun with it?

It wasn’t like you had anything to lose, right? Besides your pride, maybe. But pride was overrated, especially when they were both so good at what they did. And maybe it was the thrill of it all—the secrecy, the danger of getting caught, or maybe the idea that you were wanted by two of the most insufferable, yet undeniably attractive, people at Hogwarts.

You didn’t know. You weren’t even sure you cared anymore.

One evening, you found yourself slipping into a quiet corridor, headed to the library for some much-needed solitude. But, of course, Heeseung was there.

“You’re awfully quick to retreat these days,” he remarked, his voice light, teasing. “Hiding from me?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. “Hardly.”

“Then why don’t you stay and chat with me for a bit?” He stepped closer, his eyes scanning you.

Before you could even answer, he’d cupped your face in his hand, pulling you toward him. His lips met yours with an ease that made it feel like nothing had changed. His kiss was soft at first, but the pressure grew quickly, the heat of his touch igniting a familiar spark within you.

And, just like that, the resistance was gone.

A few breaths later, Heeseung pulled back, looking at you with that same, infuriatingly smug smile.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “You like this more than you want to admit.”

You opened your mouth, about to defend yourself, to argue, but before you could form the words, Heeseung leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss.

You didn’t fight it. You didn’t want to.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his robes, the feel of his body against yours sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, Heeseung guided you backward, his lips still on yours as he moved you toward the wall.

When your back hit the stone of the wall, Heeseung broke the kiss just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was hungry, but there was also something tender in the way he watched you.

"See? I knew you’d come around,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts. "Sure, sure," you muttered, but even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

He smiled that smile, the one that made your stomach flip. “Admit it. You like it when I’m like this.”

You should’ve pushed him away. You should’ve told him to stop, to back off, but all that came out was a small, frustrated sigh as he kissed you again, this time more insistent.

His hand suddenly gripped your thigh, lifting it effortlessly to hitch it around his hip. The movement was quick, and before you could think, you found yourself pressed even closer to him.

You should’ve pulled away, told him this wasn’t you, that you weren’t this person. But instead, you let him.

His mouth left yours for a moment, just for a moment as his lips trailed down your jaw as you gasped for air, your hands moving instinctively to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his robes like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality.

"You're not pushing me away," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with satisfaction, like he knew exactly what you were feeling. "Might start thinking you want this."

You clenched your jaw, unwilling to admit that he might be right, as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding to your back, his lips finding the soft spot beneath your ear.

Damn him.

All you could focus on was him—his touch, the way his body moved against yours, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world worth paying attention to.

You should’ve stopped. You knew you should’ve. But when his lips found yours again, slow and deep, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away.

Then Heeseung's hand suddenly, ever so subtly, glided underneath your skirt, his touch gentle. You could feel his fingers trace the curve of your thigh, a sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached for his green tie, your fingers working to untie the knot. The fabric slipped from his neck, falling away with a soft rustle.

Slowly, you tugged at the collar of his shirt, pushing it aside, revealing more of his neck, and Heeseung let out a low, appreciative sound. His lips moved back to yours in a needy kiss.

And just when you thought you’d lost yourself completely, a voice—unexpected, unmistakable—cut through the haze of your thoughts.

"Really?"

You broke away from Heeseung, looking up to see Draco standing at the end of the hall, his eyes narrowed, his posture tense. He’d been watching the entire exchange, his expression a storm of emotion.

"Really!?" Draco shouted now, his voice was sharp, like a whip crack. "You think you can just—" He cut himself off, stepping forward, his eyes flicking from you to Heeseung. "Just take her like that!?"

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling your skirt rise higher as Heeseung kept you in place. You tried to ease out of his grasp, gently attempting to pull your leg down, but his hand tightened on your thigh in response, pulling you back toward him. It was like he refused to let go of you, like you were a prize he wasn’t ready to relinquish.

“Let her go, Heeseung,” Draco spat, stepping closer, his jaw clenched in frustration. His eyes darted between the two of you, and it was clear he didn’t like seeing Heeseung so close to you. “She doesn’t belong to you.”

Heeseung’s gaze remained cool, as he leaned in closer to you. "She doesn’t belong to you either," he replied back. His fingers traced the edge of your skirt, the contact sending an involuntary shiver through you. "But if she chooses to be here, with me," he added, "then that’s her choice, not yours."

Draco was visibly seething now, taking another step forward, his hand reaching out as if he could just take you from Heeseung. But before he could get any closer, Heeseung suddenly spun you around, his arm wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The movement was quick, shielding you from Draco’s view, and you were now facing Heeseung, back to Draco, as Heeseung’s hands gripped you tight, his breath warm against your ear. "You want her?" Heeseung’s voice was soft, but there was an edge to it. "You’ll have to do better than that."

You were trapped between them—caught in their struggle, their silent battle for possession. And as you stood there, something inside of you wondered how you’d gotten here, caught between two people who seemed determined to claim you, as if you were a prize in their war.

But you weren’t anyone’s to take, were you?

Before you could fully process the thought, Draco’s voice sliced through the air again, a low, mocking laugh slipping from his lips.

“You really think you can keep her to yourself, Heeseung?” Draco sneered.

And yet, Heeseung didn’t let go, didn’t back down. Instead, he kept you pressed against him, his breath still warm on your neck.

“Let her decide,” Heeseung’s voice was a growl, holding you like he wasn’t about to let go.

For a moment, everything went silent. You felt the heat of both their glares, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from Heeseung’s grasp.

They had given you time to decide, but it was clear they were both impatient.

But you didn’t want any part of this. You hadn’t asked for this—any of it. All you wanted was a peaceful year, a chance to get through your classes, study, and avoid being caught up in whatever power struggle was unfolding between Heeseung and Draco. But here you were, stuck in the middle, torn between two people.

How were you supposed to choose between them?

Your heart raced, thoughts spinning in every direction. Both of them were waiting for you to make a decision, but the truth was, you didn’t want to choose at all. You didn’t want to get involved in their rivalry, didn’t want to be the reason for whatever animosity existed between them.

"I don’t want to be part of this," you muttered, frustration boiling beneath the surface as you finally spoke up, unable to keep it in any longer. "I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be some kind of... trophy for either of you."

But both of them merely exchanged a glance before turning their attention back to you.

"Nobody said you were a trophy," Heeseung replied.

Draco, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, stepping closer as if he were trying to close the gap between the three of you. "No one gets to walk away, not when we’ve already made our intentions clear," he said, his voice low. "So you either pick or let me show you why i am the better choice."

Your stomach twisted as the pressure mounted, and you felt that sense of dread creeping up on you. You had no idea how to navigate this—how to choose one of them.

It wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. You just wanted to survive the year, get through it without becoming a pawn in some twisted game. But as you all stood there, waiting for you to make your move, you couldn’t help but feel like there was no way out.

How could you even choose?

a/n: im gonna end it here and leave it up to you dear reader! who would to choose? personally i was never a draco girl so yeah.

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[dearharriet]

HII!! CAN I REQUEST TEN THINGS I HATE ABT YOU + JAMES POTTER PLEASE 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I FOUND UR BLOG AND I AM OVSSESSED !!!!!!

hi hi you’re so lovely!!! i had to think on this one for a while but i think i like how it came out! james seems much more like cameron than patrick, i hope u don’t mind <3 (wc: 1.2K)

You get the sudden feeling that you’ve been completely messed about at this stupid house party.

Down the driveway, your so-called friend is climbing into the passenger seat of a Porsche, leaving you behind in less than ideal autumn-garb; A red dress that falls too short and clings too thin to your wind-whipped torso, and a sad excuse for a shawl are all you have for warmth.

And if things could get any worse, you’re likely going to have to walk home in the kitten heels you insisted on wearing.

Behind you, a clunky wooden front door heaves open, producing the sweet but hopeless guy who’s been following you around all night. James, you think is his name.

He’s relatively attractive, in a sort of lost puppy way. Big brown eyes and pouty lips, a softness to his tone that could probably buckle knees if he took better advantage of it. Still, he’s thinner and scraggly, and lacks any kind of social quip to make that likely.

He skips down the steps, his dress coat flung dejectedly over his shoulder, and a frown tying his brows together. His friend from earlier is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you say tentatively and his hung head picks up, though his mouth only hardens its angry line. He takes in your unlucky state, and any trace of the puppy-love softness he’d shown you all night is gone.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

You scoff. “Please. He’s not my boyfriend.” His face remains stony and unaffected. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

James reaches his free hand up to push back his hair, and you stare at his tensing arm without really realizing it.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, hiking his jacket further over his shoulder and walking past you.

In a small window of time, you realize he has keys that he’s fishing out of his slacks pocket—car keys—and your aching feet override your nerves.

“Uh, James?” You both spin towards each other, your back now to the house and his to the cars. You realize that’s probably not the only thing that switched between you tonight. Ironically, you’re the one chasing after him now.

“Yeah,” he says, agitated, when all you do is stare. You look to the empty space where your ride once was, and back to James.

“Could you give me a lift home?”

Something about the way his expression slackens turns your insides out. When was the last time someone looked so disappointed in you? As far as you know, most of the decisions you make go over very well, and no one is ever upset with you (save your sister, who is never happy if she can help it).

But here is James, with eyes holding the most loathing likely ever directed your way, and with every right.

He shakes his head, but says, “Yeah, whatever.”

Somehow that might be worse.

Trailing after him, you come up on his old sedan, a car that seems like it’d have a myriad of mechanical problems. He has to stick his key in the driver’s door to unlock it.

When he gets his door open, he unlocks the rest of them, and you slide awkwardly into the leathery bench beside him. James seems to notice your unfamiliarity and shreds your self esteem further with a scoff.

“It’s not a convertible, I know. Sorry to disappoint.”

“No,” you immediately defend, warm from his apt assessment of you. James gives you a sideways glance of warning. “I mean, yes, I was expecting something else, but it’s—I’m not…”

“It’s fine,” James sighs, turning the car on, “it’s just a lift home. You made it pretty clear that that’s all you want me for.”

As James pulls into the street, you watch the house slip away, party like a fizzling ember fighting the midnight cold.

“That’s not true,” you say, though you’re not sure you feel it at all. Your voice is overly sweet, an attempt at the voice that serves to get you what you want, when you want it.

You’re not entirely sure what you want anymore, but James brushes it off anyway, like it’s a revolting bug.

“Yes, it is.”

It astonishes you how easily he can cut you down. He’s hardly speaking loud enough to be heard above the radio, just a bitter rake of a comment, but you’re floored all the same.

The car falls silent, and you stare at your lap instead of out the window. You feel thoroughly scolded, dissected and left to put yourself back together. You don’t think you’ll cry, but you’re not ruling it out.

When James pulls past a stop sign, approaching your neighborhood, he glances over at you.

“Yknow.” He pauses, licking his lips. “I didn’t even expect you to like me back.” His eyes return to the street “And it’s fine that you don’t, but—but you could’ve just told me.”

You rub your hands over the hem of your dress, a foreign set of nerves gripping your chest. Realistically, you could weather the storm until he drops you off, but for some reason you desperately want to rectify the situation.

You want to tell him that yes, of course you liked him all this time, because that should be true. Except it’s not.

James’ car rolls up to the curb outside your place. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel.

“I really cared about you. I went to that party for you, and I ignored everyone who said I was stupid for doing it.” Shaking his head, James looks at you, anger peeling back to reveal raw hurt. “But you’re so conceited.”

You expel a painful breath, all the wind knocked out of you.

“I know.” Breaking eye contact, you flick your eyes to your shoes. Flattery and shame twine together in your throat. “Did you really go to the party for me?”

James nods.

“Went to the party, got that guy to date your sister,” he lists. “I even learned French for you. And what did it get me? A whole lot of—”

Without really thinking, you surge forward and pull James’ lips onto yours. They lay warm and firm over your mouth, and you can’t deny how right it feels.

You’re expecting James to pull back, to push you away, but he does the opposite. One hand laces into your pristine hair, holding you to him, and the other wraps around your back.

It’s a perfect kiss, the kind that you always dreamed of, and it makes a giddy laugh bubble out of your mouth.

When you pull away, you’re dizzy and a little self-pitying. You could’ve been kissing James like this whole time instead of chasing after some pea-brained asshole in a nice car.

James seems to watch the thought wash over you, because he kisses you one more time to remind you that it doesn’t matter, that you’re here now. Then he lets you go, and you relish in the way his hands linger over your waist, your neck. The giddy feeling comes back twofold.

“Night,” you say through a prim smile. “Thanks for the lift.”

James’ eyes crease a little at the edges from his returning smile. “G’night, beautiful.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[imraespace]

HELLO <333 FINALLY FREE HBU

hi imara mwah mwah mwah i miss ur existence every single day and i think of u often. hru doing what's new. how's the guy that was girlfriending u. how's studies. did u find any money. are we still pirates

(this ended up being long oopsies)

HIII LINAAA I have a presentation soon (it was today but the pirates in this country called the water company hasnt brought back our water in 2 days funny right?!?!?😒😒🤬🤬 so my teacher gave me wednesday instead yay!)

I hate presentations I might sail away..

mwa mwa mwa I see your posts every morning when I open tumblr maybe it signals to you🤫

erm erm THERES THIS BOOK I READ ON AN APP AND THERES 2 SEASONS AND I CHOSE ONE WRONG CHOICE IN SEASON ONE AND MESSED UP EVERYTHING EVERYONE HATES ME IN SEASON 2 I DONT REMEMBER EVEN CHOOSING THAT STUPID OPTI9N.. so I decided to reread it and pretend I'm not grieving hehehehhsahhsh😊😊😊

the guy who tried to girlfriend me he stares at me everytime I walk by but that's a normal thing for him to do he sometimes try to trip me as I walk as well which is also a normal thing for him

studies are okay I haven't had any tests rn bc over here when you're in senior level you get these thingys called SBAS which is a school-based assessment which is like an important group work that's 20% of your exams mark and its for every subject😒 well actually spanish doesn't have one so in my free time I use duolingo bc.. it's actually really fun to use🤫🤫

YES I DID ACTUALLY I FOUND MONEY IN THE WASHING MACHINE but my momma took it she was like MARA DID YOU TAKE THE 10 DOLLARS and I was like what 10 dollars!?! and she was right behind me so.. I gave her it or whatever..

ARG help OF COURSE WE ARE STILL PIRATES! we shall sail the 7 seas or whatever they say I didn't watch pirates of the caribbean..

[theninjazebra]

cut for bullshit emotions about The Plague etc.

got my first covid jab today (and a sticker and mint), administered by a very smiley, very nice, very organised team of nurses. i get a flu jab every year, and was surprised at how nervous i was. i know a bunch of people who have already had theirs and they’re all fine and yet... 

i dunno. it was fine, hurt less than this year’s flu jab. going to have a quiet and easy couple of days and in 3 weeks do round 2.  i’m lucky, i’m in nz, my life and work has seen minimal impact. except for these terrifying incursions. 

level 4 lockdown in a half empty house, waiting for my sister to get sick, for me to get sick. we were fine, but didn’t know that for a couple weeks.

getting out of auckland at level 3, in a crowded airport in mid summer, realising i don’t know how to prove my address (banking app on ph, btw). 

i have masks in my handbag now for buses and train and planes. 

an extra jab. i’m guessing it will be a yearly thing. 

and the new, lingering paranoia over infectious disease. what was once just regular clean and tidiness now definitely crossing a line and adding to the various Weird Fears i’ve accumulated over the years. 

like, the pandemic has been a background, 3nd or 4th level issue, just because my personal life has been SO MUCH lately. lockdown was the nice, peaceful time between 2 family marriages (one of which was a surprise, because who doesn’t like surprise step mothers?) and coming out to the family and friends and the evangelical church a bunch still attend. apart from one awkward meeting, that too was fine. because really, who gives a shit.

i deleted my twitter this year (and would delete fb if it wasn’t the best way to contact my family overseas), my insta and tumblr are curated for peace of mind, and i keep having to have media blackouts because “managing stress” has become such a job. 

but then i’m waiting in the “observation area”, failing to read my book, and kept thinking about it. and it’s an issue of scale. like reading about The War, and then hearing my gran’s personal experiences. there’s the whole world, and the big numbers and impacts. and then there’s my local gp clinic in my wee beach community. it was just like lockdown again. stay in the moment, in your physical location. that much is possible. 

[danakin-skywalker]

Fresh Set (Josh Kiszka Fluff)

Taglist: @flowervanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @sierraahhhh @jakekiszska @amourleger @theweightofstardust @samkiszkabreakmyback @prettyintopeerpressure @greta-flanveet @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw @the-chaotic-cow @ghostly-luck @mywaysooon @tlexx @screechesincoherently @garagebandvanfleet @gretavanhoney @stardustdanny @joshysgf @cowboysamkiszka @lightmyluv

Request: hi bestie!!! i love ur “acrylics” fic for jake and was wondering if you could do one for josh!! :)

(A/N): Happy Valentine’s Day my lovely readers (particularly my readers in Josh’s lane)!! This idea came to me partially from an anon I was sent recently and mostly from the wonderful @capturethechaos. We decided that instead of just writing another smut about the same fetish and just switching it to Josh, it would be cute to imagine a fluff version of the acrylics scenario. So that’s what we’re doing today on this lovely Valentine’s Day. It’s not Valentine’s themed persay, but it’s my Valentine’s gift to you guys. I don’t really get my nails done often, and when I do it’s usually not acrylics, but I’ve gone with my friends often enough to vaguely know the steps.

Anyway, it’s short, it’s soft, it’s uncomplicated, there are no stakes (but there is some slight sexual tension), which I think is something we can appreciate on a day like today in a year like this. I hope you enjoy!

*******************************************

Fresh Set

Josh had only been back from tour for a few days when he heard it. He was reading in the living room when he heard a small crashing noise and the sound of a string of curse words leaving your mouth coming from the kitchen.

Naturally, he abandoned his book and quickly made his way over to assess the damage, which turned out to be a lot more minimal that he thought. When he entered the kitchen, expecting to see a mess, all he saw was you standing in the middle holding your finger scornfully.

You had told him you were just gonna do the dishes from the lunch you’d just shared when he went to read, so he tried to piece together what happened by himself. “What happened? Did you cut yourself on something? Here let me see.” He couldn’t help his inner nurse breaking through at the idea of you hurt.

But he paused when you shook your head. “No I’m not hurt. Well, not like that. I just went to put away the Dutch oven and hit my nail and the whole thing broke off!” You held up your right hand to show him, your pointer finger looking bare and stubby next to your others.

Josh blinked at you a few times as he tried to understand the situation. “So… You’re alright? I’m sorry I don’t really know what that means for you.” He chuckled as he scratched behind his neck.

You spared a moment to smile endearingly at his cluelessness. “I’m fine, it hurt a little but nothing crazy. I’m more annoyed than anything because now my nails are gonna look stupid until I can get them redone. I hate when I lose the pointer finger first, that’s like the most noticeable one.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes exasperatedly.

Meanwhile, Josh’s eyes flickered over to the digital clock on the stove. 1:12pm. “Well we don’t have anything planned for this afternoon, we could just go now. Do you wanna?”

Your head whipped over to Josh’s in surprise. Not only were you not anticipating such an immediate solution, but it sounded like he wanted to come with you to the nail salon.

“We? You really wanna come with me to get my nails done?” You clarified, a hint of a smile reaching the edges of your mouth. You tried not to be teasing, since it truly was sweet of him to offer to tag along.

Despite your efforts, you spotted a slight flush across your boyfriend’s cheeks. “I mean- yeah, I’ve always wondered how it’s done. Maybe I could pick the colors or something. I don’t know, if you wanna go alone I can-“

Before he could finish, you shuffled over to close the gap between you two and press a silencing kiss onto his lips, letting your arms extend past his neck as if you were slow dancing. His hands fell naturally to your waist as a result but you pulled away after a few moments.

“I would love nothing more than for you to keep me company and pick my color. I never thought you’d wanna do that with me.” You answered with an audible smile, nose still just barely brushing with his.

He leaned forward again slightly to press a peck onto your nose. “I would do just about anything if it meant I got to do it with you. Now go get your coat.”

He released his hold on your waist but before you released yours on his neck, you pulled yourself closer to plant a big sloppy kiss on his cheek before scampering off to get your coat and purse. 

As you met Josh again in the living room with his own coat on, you were surprised when he immediately reached over and took your purse, throwing it back onto the couch. “Nope. On me today. Let’s go!”

You took his wrist and held him back before he could walk out the door, “Josh, nails cost more than you think. Are you sure?” You pleaded, feeling guilty already. You were always hesitant to let Josh spend money on you, especially when it wasn’t just something like an Arizona from the gas station or fries from McDonalds.

Josh knew this but still made an effort whenever he was able to argue the logic with you, which were the only times you really conceded. He figured that there was no point in having extra money if not to spend on the people he cares about, so he jumped at any opportunity to spoil you- with your begrudging permission.

“Babe, yes I’m sure. Please just let me do this, as far as I’m concerned if I’m picking out what they look like I might as well be paying.” He insisted, watching briefly as you tilted your head in consideration at his words before allowing him to gently pull you out the door to the car.

Pretty soon you had pulled up at your favorite local nail salon. The ladies there all knew you by name and were excited to meet Josh, as they’d certainly asked about your love life before. Josh politely accepted their compliments and small talk before following your lead to the wall containing rows and rows of nail polish colors.

You turned to the side to see Josh’s eyes widen at the broad selection. “What do ya think? What’s calling out to you?” You nudged him playfully, basking in the way his eyes zipped across all of the color options.

He brought a hand up to his face, scratching the hairs on his chin contemplatively for a moment before reaching out and selecting a shimmering mauve color, turning the bottle in his hands and watching the tiny sparkles reflect light as they moved. “This one.” He mumbled decisively. You nodded, taking the bottle in your hand and guiding him over to the manicurist’s station, where there was already another chair set up for Josh.

The nail tech immediately voiced her dissatisfaction in your broken nail as she prepared your hands, before pausing to reach for the materials needed to replace it. Josh leaned over curiously to get a better view of the supplies, hand finding it’s way around your thigh innocently enough as a tip was glued onto your bare finger. He watched in wonder as the technician dipped her brush in the liquid solution before dipping it into the container of powder, gasping softly when the brush emerged with a bead of acrylic on the end. You couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the look of childlike amazement across his face as you felt the nail tech apply the fresh acrylic to your nail, taking care to avoid your cuticles and flatten out the mass into a smooth nail.

“I never knew there was such a process involved. This is really a science, huh?” He remarked, making you giggle.

“Yeah, it’s certainly a service they’re providing. There’s a reason actual acrylics are more expensive than press-ons.”

Josh nodded in understanding, turning his attention back to the nail tech working on your hands, now filling in the rest of your nails while the new nail dried. “Well yeah, these are like… bonded to your hand. How did that one come off so easy today?”

You shrugged, “After a little while of having them on and living with them, they can come loose a bit.”

Josh nodded and hummed to himself, a smirk growing on his face, “Especially when you’re smashing them with a Dutch oven.” You shot Josh a glare as he laughed at you, almost moving to smack him before your nail tech pulled your hands back.

This made Josh raise an eyebrow. “Oh interesting. No way to retaliate now, huh? Your hands are tied, Princess.”

You knew he was teasing, but that nickname always did make your heart flutter, along with the innuendo behind his words.

As the technician began applying the polish Josh had picked out, you felt him rediscover his hand on your thigh with a gentle tapping of all of his fingers on the erogenous zone. You felt yourself sit up a little straighter, earning a low chuckle from Josh as his fingers started tracing patterns through the fabric of your pants.

You looked over at him, but his eyes were still locked on the painstaking application of the colored lacquer to your fingertips. “I picked a good color, huh?”

You could only hum in agreement, brain short-circuiting at the feeling of his soft touch. 

This was the kind of stuff you missed when he was away. Small touches, little moments the two of you enjoyed when no one else was looking. Tiny displays of affection meant only to be shared between you. You figured that might be why he had insisted on joining you today, perhaps not wanting to relinquish a single hour of time that could be spent together if he could at all help it. You really did miss him while he was away on tour, but it was things like this that affirmed to you that he missed you just as much while he was gone.

By the time you had reached home stretch and the top coat was being applied, Josh’s fingertips ghosting the inside of your thigh had you breathing a little heavier. “Almost done, Princess.” Josh murmured into your ear, fully aware of the effect his nickname had on you.

A blush spread across your cheeks just as the nail technician stood up and deemed her work complete, instructing you to be careful to not smudge. You agreed and thanked her, guiding Josh to the front desk for payment and mumbling about how tipping was customary.

Josh didn’t even bat an eye as he paid, hand snugly around your waist and finger looped through the belt loop on your side. Your body still felt warm from his prior touch, and this new touch wasn’t making it ease up. Maybe you really were touch starved from his absence.

As you headed back out to the car, Josh took a few steps ahead of you and turned around with a grin. “Alright, lemme see them!”

You smiled bashfully and held up your hands, switching poses to show him the shimmery polish he picked out in all different angles. He held his hand to his lips and gave a chefs kiss motion. “Beautiful, absolutely inspired.”

You rolled your eyes and reached to open the door, but Josh’s hand on your wrist stopped you. You turned to look up at him questioningly, only to be met by a mischievous gaze.

“Oh no, no, no. Didn’t you hear what she said? No hands tonight. Wouldn’t want a smudge, would we?” He maintained his hard gaze as he opened the door for you.

You gulped and got into the car, stomach bubbling in excitement over what Josh had in store for you tonight based on your nail tech’s innocent warning.

[comfortbucky]

requests? did someone say requests??😌

fluffy headcanon, mafia boss!bucky comes home after being away for a week or so and it’s just a cute ass reunion between the reader & him with lots of kisses & hugs n shit

or(take your pick) :)

one shot, where john walker is really rude to reader(insults her & shit), but she stands up for herself. they(her & john) get into a fight & bucky finds out by surprisingly swinging by her apartment. of course bucky is pissed, but he tends to her wounds. then for some stupid reason, john shows up at readers apartment & bucky loses it. but it ends in bucky admitting his feelings to reader n some fluff 😩

hope you find motivation for at least one of these:😚

hi yes hehe i did say requests🙈

i’m a sucker for tfatws!bucky so- (and john walker is a rat bastard🤣 so lemme go off)

𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!avenger!reader

warnings: john walker (grr), violence! and descriptions of bloody injuries

A/N: also! i sort of changed the prompt i hope u don’t mind too much🥺 // this oneshot will not be taking place during the canon timeline btw but inspired by the events/themes of tfatws

word count: 1.5 k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N sighed, as she plopped onto the couch after a long day. She, Bucky, and Sam had spent the whole day researching the Flagsmashers to try and track them down. It took all day, partially because Bucky needed a little extra help with learning how to use his laptop. She chuckled at the memory, grabbing the remote to turn her TV on. Suddenly, a loud, aggressive, knock interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and leaned her head on the back of her couch, taking a moment to debate leaving her very comfortable spot, before getting up to answer the door. Y/N knew that she probably should have peeked through her peephole before answering, but she wanted to return to the comfort of her couch as soon as possible. She opened it to see none other than John Walker, greeting her with a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing here, John? How the hell did you even get my address?”

“All government property has GPS tracking in it," he said, pointing to her laptop on the kitchen table behind her. She turned and frowned as he continued. "Look, you need us, me and Battlestar, to take down Karli.” She looked back at John, laughing at Lemar’s alias.

“No way I’m letting someone who goes by Battlestar help me out.” He glared at her comment. “Or you, a Captain America wannabe.”

John took an aggressive step closer, way too close for Y/N’s comfort, as he replied. “I am Captain America, whether you like it or not.”

"You'll never be Captain America," she snapped back. "You don't have what it takes." He glared at her and put his face right in front of hers.

"How would you know? You're a pathetic excuse for a soldier," he spat and Y/N grimaced at John's spit landing on her cheeks. He looked at her, his eyes examining her body. She hated every second of it, his stare making her feel grimy all over, like she immediately needed a shower. “Who’d you fuck to get into the Avengers anyways? Bet it was Steve.”

John’s comment was immediately followed by Y/N’s fist connecting with his cheek, forcing him to stagger back into the hall. She’d heard concerns about her abilities as an Avenger before, calling her weak, fragile, a bitch, etc. But she knew they almost always came from misogynistic men, and was able to shrug their comments off because she knew that she could easily beat all of them to a pulp, no problem. But thinking that she would sleep her way into becoming an Avenger crossed a line. Especially someone she respected and had admired as much as Steve.

John held his hand to his cheek, where he’d been hit, and looked up to make eye contact with Y/N. He smiled and before stating in a condescending tone, “That was cute.” John kicked her in the stomach, launching her onto the floor of her apartment. As she groaned and started to get up, John chuckled and kicked her down before she got to her knees. He went to kick her again when she rolled away, dodging his kick and standing up quickly, panting as she responded.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

She kicked her leg up to deliver a roundhouse kick to John’s face, spinning around to punch his nose. He stumbled a couple steps back, regaining his balance before swinging a punch towards Y/N. She caught his fist before it hit her and John took the opportunity to use his free hand to grab his shoulder and knee her in the stomach. She gasped, getting the wind knocked out of her. He then threw her into a shelf, shattering several photo frames on the ground. She landed on her stomach, attempting to get up by pushing her self up on her forearms. Y/N felt a warm liquid on her cheek and touched it, pulling it away from her face to see her fingertips covered in blood.

“Asshole,” she mumbled, before standing up to continue fighting.

Several moments ago, Bucky had made the decision to show up at Y/N’s apartment. He pressed some random keys on his computer, and now there was an error message that wouldn’t go away on his screen. Stubbornly, he tried to fix it on his own but ended up making it worse. He sighed in defeat, closing his laptop shut and tucking it under his arm before heading over towards her apartment. Bucky was just down the hall when he heard the sound of glass shattering, his leisurely stroll turning into a sprint to Y/N’s door.

Bucky arrived to see you pinned up against a wall with John’s hand around ur throat. Your hands were desperately clawing at John’s, attempting to free yourself from his grasp. Fear and terror consumed him before a wave of fury took over. Immediately, Bucky launched into action, dropping his laptop in the process. He ripped John away from you, tossing him on the ground. Bucky moved to hover over John, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N finally caught her breath and crawled over to Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to stop. He kept his eyes on John’s bloody and bruised face, lowering his fist.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” he snarled, releasing John from his grasp.

John rolled over, took a moment to catch his breath. Bucky was standing, fists still clenched by his sides, as he watched John get up and exit Y/N’s apartment without another word.

He closed the door behind him and immediately spun around to see Y/N struggling to get up, attempting to push up from one of her knees. Bucky instantly rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. He grabbed one of her hands in his own and placed his other hand on the small of her back, as he guided her to the couch. He examined her and felt a pain in his chest, looking at her black eye, cut cheek, and her bruised neck outlined with John’s handprint. Without saying a word, he stood up and returned with a first-aid kit from her bathroom. He sat back down and immediately started to tend to her wounds. As Bucky started to disinfect the cut on her cheek, he spoke.

“That was stupid of you,” he mumbled, gently dabbing antiseptic ointment on her cut. It was a drastic contrast from his behavior only minutes ago, nearly ready to murder John. He took a bandaid from the kit and delicately placed it on her cheek. Bucky then moved his hand to assess her black eye, his thumb softly grazing a soft patch of skin under her eye. She frowned and lightly pushed his hand away.

“I would’ve been fine on my own, you know.”

“Sit still so I can take a look at your bruise.” He responded gruffly, lifting his hand and attempting to look at her bruised eye again. She shoved his hand away, this time more aggressively, and tried to stand up.

“Just leave me alone,” Y/N said, wincing and clutching her abdomen in pain, causing Bucky to grab her waist and slowly lower her back down onto the couch. Fucking John Walker.

“Y/N.”

She pulled his hands off her and reluctantly sat down to face him.

“You don’t need to defend me, Bucky,” she spoke, Bucky sensing anger in her voice. “I’m not some weak, helpless civilian. I’m a god damn Avenger for christ sake!” As Y/N shouted, her voice wavered and her eyes started to well up with tears.

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and Bucky sat with his hands resting on his lap. Although she was speaking to Bucky, she felt like she was more-so trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

“I know,” he said calmly, but with a stern tone, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Okay, so leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not!”

“Because I fuckin’ care about you!” Bucky shouted, causing Y/N’s face to immediately soften.

Her arms dropped to rest in her lap and she froze as Bucky softly raised his hand to cup her cheek, captivated by his touch. He cautiously moved, worried she would push his hand away again, but she didn’t. His thumb gently caressed her non-cut cheek and he pulled her face close to his. She felt his breaths fan her face as he spoke.

“I know you’re one of the strongest Avengers,” he started. “And I know you could kick John’s ass any day of the week. But I care so much about you and I need you to be okay.” Bucky’s lips hovered over Y/N’s, lightly brushing against hers.

“I need you, Y/N.”

She responded by crashing her lips onto his, moving her hands to hold his face closer to hers. The kiss was full of passion, love, and unspoken feelings. When they broke apart, gasping for air, Y/N smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I care about you too, Buck.”

Bucky had never seen such a bright light in his 106 years of living.

[smuggsy]

i would love to see #11 for the prompt thing (just want to say i adore ur current ed/oswald/omc series btw im excited for more! <3)

owww, thank you so much <3 it's nice to hear ppl are actually enjoying it bc i've got almost no feedback. another chapter is coming soon (;

but now onto the whump below the cut. #11 “Please, let me help you.” 

Getting used to his impaired vision is no easy task, he'll admit. Now that the doctor's made a thorough job of cleaning the wound and administering antibiotics to prevent infection and prescribed him two different kinds of painkillers and now that the initial shock of it all has passed. Now it downs on Oswald that this is who he's going to be from now on, that watching his step carefully when he goes down the stairs and bumping into walls that are closer than they seem is something he's going to have to get used to. 

As if walking around with a limp and a cane wasn't demeaning enough already. He lets out a grunt as he finally makes it to the kitchen, everything is sunk in darkness and he fails to turn on the lights two times before he finally finds the switch.

He sees the switch. He knows where it is. It's always been there, in that exact same spot, and he's walked into the kitchen in the middle of the night to fix himself some tea countless times before.

Now the switch has moved.

"Urrgh," he grunts one more time as he turns around and collides against the kitchen aisle. He nearly grabs one of the chairs and tosses it across the room, a sudden rush of adrenaline and fury coursing through his sleep-deprived mind.

There's a pang behind his eyepatch as if mocking his helplessness but he calms down soon enough, closing his good eye and taking a deep breath to brace himself against the counter. He manages to put the kettle on without any further incidents, but when he stands on his toes to reach the cabinet —how many times has he told Olga to keep that stupid tea-set at hand?!— he topples over and ends up sending two very nice cups to their deaths.

They crash on the floor with a piercing sound and Oswald startles and grits his teeth at the commotion. 

Deep breaths, deeeeeep breaths.

Choosing to ignore the incident he turns around to switch off the gas with trembling hands and pour the water into the one cup he did manage to obtain. 

Except, of course, his mind is still foggy from restless sleep and drugs so he misjudges the angle entirely and ends up pouring it all over his hand holding the teabag in place instead.

He lets out a yelp and drops the kettle instantly.

"Ow! Shit! Stupid little—!"

The water drips onto the floor unceremoniously as he tumbles over to reach the water tap and put his hand under it.

Ed barges into the place only half a minute later wielding a handgun, with hair sticking out and with his glasses askew. Oswald barely spares him a glance, blood boiling under his skin and dangerously close to the edge already.

"Oswald, what—"

"Nothing!" he blurts out almost immediately. Edward bearing witness to this mess is the last thing he needs right now, "just go away."

But, of course, he's Edward.

"What happened?" his friend asks, pistol forgotten on some nearby shelf and rushing over, words the slightest bit slurred by slumber and Oswald thinks lucky you, being able to get a wink of sleep, and takes another of those deep breaths that are doing a poor job of slowing down his heart rate. 

"What does it look like it happened, Ed?!"

Edward stares at him numbly and then his eyes dart around the place like he's only now taking it all in, seeing the shattered china on the floor and the pool of water by their feet. Immediately he brings both hands to Oswald's under the cold water from the tap and tugs at it.

"Let me see."

Oswald jerks him away.

"No— I'm fine!" he bites out, "go back to sleep."

Despite his ill-mannered humour, Edward doesn't move. Oswald doesn't look at him while he stands next to him in silence, letting the waters cool, clearly giving him a moment to backtrack on his request. And then, ever so softly, Ed's hands return, to his elbow this time. A touch too gentle it almost makes Oswald let out a whine — because he's tired, and aching, and sleepy and nothing turns out for him as of late.

"Please, let me help you."

His words are a caress in Oswald's ear. Barely there. Ed keeps his warm fingers on his arm and slowly brings the hand to his chest for inspection. Oswald lets him, this time. All energy seems to leave him with that puff of breath and he lets Ed guide him to one of those chairs he was contemplating taking all of his frustrations out on just a minute ago.

There's a slight hiss of sympathy.

"Should be alright with a little cream and a bandage," is Edward's assessment. 

Oswald rolls his eyes and fights down a sappy retort much like: yes, I know that, I'm not so incompetent that I need you here to issue an official diagnosis, just leave me to rage in peace. He nods tiredly instead, shoulders slumped and yawn unavoidable.

"I'll be right back," Ed says with a hoarse voice, moving around quickly despite his dishevelled appearance, looking perfectly awake now but sounding nothing like it. 

Oswald doesn't try to stop him. Because he knows it'll be a lost cause and because he's afraid if he starts poking too much at the situation he'll end up embarrassing himself and crying out his frustrations on Ed's shoulder.

Not ideal.

So he keeps silent instead, watching Ed's expert hands apply that cold salve on his knuckles and wrap his aching red-looking skin in a white bandage, giving up on not looking miserable because what's the point.

He is miserable.

"There, all done."

Ed pats him twice on the thigh as if comforting a hurting animal and Oswald can only offer a small scoff in return. He can smell Ed's shampoo from where he's standing so close and he keeps his eyes fixed on that loose crumpled white shirt he wears to sleep, afraid to look up into the gentle eyes he knows he'll find behind those glasses.

Because he might start blurting out stuff that shouldn't be blurt out if he does, as helpless and exhausted as he's beginning to feel.

"Now let's get you that cup of tea."

Ed turns around to make himself busy and Oswald takes the opportunity to scatter away.

"Where—"

"Sofa," he crooks out deadpan. 

That's where Ed finds him ten minutes later, staring at the unlit fireplace as if willing it to come to life on its own. Sitting on his usual spot with the lights off and a glassy look of resignation. 

"Chamomile," Ed says as he offers the steaming cup. Oswald doesn't have the heart to tell him he's changed his mind and would rather down a glass or two of that aged Scotch instead. He takes a sip without muttering out a word. Ed sits down just beside, clearly not taking the hint, "you're uncharacteristically quiet."

Oswald shrugs.

"Just tired," he offers, and then, only to put Ed's mind at ease, gives him a practised look of reassurance and a smile, "I didn't mean to wake you up."

Edward turns the attention back to him, ignoring the clear dismissal implicit in the words.

"Did you go to sleep at all?"

"Yes."

"Is your eye bothering you?"

And then the Oswald from the kitchen returns without a warning and he lashes out.

"Goodnight, Ed."

Edward goes to speak again but stops himself when Oswald sends him a sharp menacing look. He looks nothing short of a kicked puppy as he gets on his feet and turns around to leave.

And then he doesn't leave.

"I could start a fir—"

"Goddamn it, Ed! Just leave me alone!"

And just like that the fourth and last cup of that lovely set ceases to exist, turned into another pile of shattered porcelain on the floor. Because Edward Nygma is a pain in his fucking ass, and he doesn't know how to read an indirect and back down and just disappear. He pokes and pokes and pokes—

—and when Oswald turns to look at him with that murderous glare, he sees no reaction from him. Clearly, this was his intention all along, from the very first moment he walked into that kitchen, to see just how much he could take, to push until he broke, to make him talk about it.

Oswald should have learnt to read Edward Nygma by now. Should’ve seen it coming.

As Ed strides back to him with purpose and swiftly sits back down on the sofa and leans in to wrap him into an embrace, Oswald understands he definitely still hasn't learnt to read Edward Nygma. 

"What are you doing?" he pushes him away half-heartedly with his good hand. Edward doesn't let go, an unmovable brick wall that cannot be swayed.

"I'm hugging you."

"Let go—"

"No."

Oswald blinks. Then lets out a breathless laugh. He can't seem to fathom any other reaction to this — provided this is actually happening. Provided it isn't a secondary effect of being drugged up to his eyeballs for a whole week, now. 

He stops trying to tug Edward away and instead slumps against him, head resting on a slim shoulder and cold and runny nose poking Ed's neck as he keeps giggling at the unprecedented gesture. 

Edward's hug is implacable but awkward. He doesn't move, his broad hands against Oswald's back just pin him in place almost in a possessive fashion. He's clearly unskilled in the ways of physical reassurance.

Oswald realises those nervous giggles he's letting out are actually sobs.

[bringingglory]

@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

--

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

[dirt-cup-draco]

Sirius x Reader- Everyone But Me

Can u please do young!sirius x reader in which the reader is friends with Lily and the marauders. And in an attempt to try and see if Lily has any feelings for James, u flirt with James. And James being James goes along with it, also bc he knows Sirius likes u and he thinks it’s funny. Which does in fact not only make Lily jealous but also Sirius. Could the reader also be mega bffs with Rem please? I’m just a slut for jealous Sirius. I’m glad ur feeling better, I love you pumpkin

“I can’t believe you!” You giggled, head resting in the crook of Remus’ neck as you lost your composure. The marauders were devilish on and off the quidditch pitch and you weren’t going to tell anyone that peter had been muttering curses underneath his breath to throw off the Slytherin seeker while James worked on winning the game. 

“It was harmless, really, we would’ve won the game regardless,” Sirius chimed in, tossing his arm around you and pulling you from Remus’ side into his own as he fought back the small twang of jealousy he felt. He knew that Remus had his eye on that McKinnon girl that Lily was so fond of but he couldn’t help it. He loved that you were close with everybody he cared about. Sirius couldn’t ever fall for someone who wouldn’t give his friends a chance, but he also felt fear.

Fear that he wasn’t good enough in comparison to them. Remus was kindhearted and intelligent, possessing a calm and intelligence that Sirius thought he’d never have. Peter was in his head but he had good intentions and was cute, Sirius didn’t pull off cute well- in his own opinion that was. And then there was James Potter. James, his best friend and the golden boy of gryffindor. 

Which brought him to the whomping willow, hours later, back pressed against the dusty planks within the tree. When it wasn’t being used as a safe haven for Remus during the full moon it was a nice place for them to meet up and spend hours getting up to no good and enjoying their youth. You were all sat in a circle, you sitting directly between Remus and James, Sirius across from you. 

It was a miracle you hadn’t noticed that his eyes had been trained on you since the second you had arrived with a smug smile and firewhisky tucked behind your back to share. 

It was a miracle that Sirius didn’t notice the sly look you sent Lily’s way. You had a gleam in your eye and you finished off the cup of firewhisky you had in your hand, just enjoying the pleasant warmth that had spread through you. It was late and the whomping willow wasn’t the warmest of places as October reached its midpoint. 

“So James, brilliant play today,” You cooed, changing the subject so the focus was on James and James alone. Sirius felt sick but watched in curiosity. 

“Course it was,” James laughed but smiled back, sending a long look to Sirius, assessing him. Sirius was too stuck in his own mind to realize that he was being studied, he didn’t realize that to James the jealousy was clear. 

You watched Lily similarly, finding the way that her expression soured as she watched you, her own jealousy beaming through. Remus watched in amusement. Sirius and Lily were quite possibly the two most emotionally constipated people he had ever met in his life. 

James looked to you for a moment and your lips split into a wide grin, you winked, you actually bloody winked! Sirius felt disturbed but mainly disheartened. He didn’t like watching you express interest in James, he wanted it to be him regardless what James might feel towards you. Which seemed to be similar to your own feelings as he winked back. 

“I did it of course, for you dear Y/N,” James nearly laughed at the painful flirt that made it way past his lips. It was like trying to flirt with his sister, awkard and unnatural. You two had been stuck on a bet of sorts recently. James was adamant that Sirius was head over heels for you and you were certain Lily was begging the universe for James to make the first move, just so she didn’t have to lose her Evans pride by asking him first. 

You set your hand on James’ thigh as you talked, both egging on the other teens in the room that you fancied. It seemed to be too much for Sirius though as he hopped up from his reclined and faux relaxed position. 

“I’ve got to go,” Was all he said before he was running out. Peter looked at you all with shame and Remus snorted, hand held open for James to drop nearly a galleon’s worth of sickles into his waiting palm. Lily raised her brow in question as Marlene sipped at the firewhisky, soaking up the drama. 

“On you go then,” James directed, head jerking towards the entrance. 

You chewed your lip pensively. “I still don’t think you’re right,” 

“Our plan went just like we thought it would so what are you waiting for?” James asked and Lily’s mouth opened to ask but Remus shot her a look that told her she would be finding out very soon. 

“If you’re wrong-” You argued, nervous that Sirius wouldn’t feel the same. What if he did but didn’t now that you had been cruel? Jealousy was a feeling that tied your stomach in knots and made your heart feel like a concrete weight in your chest. If Sirius was feeling anything like that then you didn’t doubt he would be cross with your little game. 

“He’s not,” Remus reassured, hand warm on your back as he sent you an encouraging smile. “Sirius is mad for you, so go to him already.” 

You finally nodded, brushing the dust from your jeans as you chased after the boy that you hadn’t had the guts to tell how you felt without playing childish games. You hoped he wasn’t too upset. 

--

“Hey,” Your voice drifted on the icy breeze, features distorted by the moon’s light being broken up through the clouds above and Sirius froze in his tracks that had been leading anywhere that wasn’t near the whomping willow. “You left pretty quick,” 

You stood a few feet behind him with a perfect smile on your face, concerned about him. He cracked his own smile but if felt cheap and brittle. “Just needed some air, drank too much probably,” 

“You didn’t touch the firewhisky all night,” You pointed out and Sirius watched you intently.

“Guess not,” He shrugged lamely, not offering any explanation as to why he was lying to you. You understood he was hurt, or at least feeling inadequate, and it was up to you to make the first step. 

“Want to talk about it?” You asked, not quite sure what to do now.

“Nothing to talk about,” He couldn’t help the bitter tone. Why tell you how he felt when you clearly fancied James? Why else would you be all over his friend? But... that begged another question. Why were you here and not with James when you had both seemed to be enjoying each other’s flirting? 

“Alright then,” You said, smile stiff but you didn’t seem deterred as you grabbed Sirius’ hand in yours. “If you don’t have something to say, then I do. I’m sorry,” You opened your mouth to say more but it seemed stuck in your throat. 

Sirius could feel your palm, sweaty against his own as you struggled for words. “You’re sorry?” He prompted, not sure why you were apologizing. Your cheeks were red but he chalked it up the buzz and the chill in the air that was pricking at his own skin and undoubtedly battling the sweater you wore and winning. You shivered. 

“I’m sorry for being an idiot, I didnt mean to make you jealous-” 

“I wasn’t jealous!” Sirius immediately squeaked, face hot. 

You laughed. Sirius winced. 

“Whatever you and James are it’s cool, I’m not jealous,” He defended again, shielding his own emotions from you. You were still laughing! Was this funny to you? Sirius tore his hand from yours, making his way back towards the school. 

“Siri!” You sighed, realizing you once again had shared too little. “James and I aren’t anything! It was a trick, a prank, really! I was trying to get Lily to admit she liked James and he was doing the same to you.... Both of us are idiots,” 

Sirius stood still once again but he was almost too nervous to face you as you caught back up to him. “What’s the point? Why make a mockery of us?” 

“I-it wasn’t supposed to be that... I don’t want to mock you, I want you to know I like you, a lot,” 

Sirius scoffed. “Funny way of showing it,” Yet, his defenses had fallen with that one blow. Y/N liked him? Surely she couldn’t mean it. 

“I know,” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his once more as you tugged him to face you, his eyes darting around as he refused to make eye contact. He was trying to keep from looking hopeful in case this was still just one big joke. 

“Why?” He asked.

“I told you silly, because I like you and I’m an idiot and-” 

“No,” Sirius cut you off. “I mean, why me? Why not James? He’s- well he’s just better... Honestly, anyone would be better than me. I like you, oh merlin, I like you, Y/N-”

“But?” You encouraged.

“But you deserve better and anyone else would be a better match...” Sirius continued, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone. “I thought for a while you liked Remus and now James and I- Well I thought you liked everyone but me.” 

To anyone that wasn’t you or the marauders, Sirius would sound indifferent as he admitted his own low self esteem. To you, however, you realized just how stupid it was to make Sirius sit in his self doubt to try and get him to say he liked you instead of just admitting it yourself. 

“James is like my brother,” You wrinkled your nose in mock disgust. “I couldn’t ever feel that way about him! It’s always been you Sirius, I don’t care about anyone else the way I care about you. Remus is my best friend and James and Peter are like my annoying siblings, but that is all. You mean far more to me,” 

Sirius blinked slowly. “But I’m-” 

“Perfect,” You smiled. “In every way,” 

Sirius felt like he’d been punched. 

“So,” You blushed. “All that being said, would you do me the honor of letting me make up for my mistake and take you on a date?” 

Sirius beamed, kissing your knuckles as he squeezed your hand in response. “How could I deny you the honor of going on a date with all this?” He motioned to himself, his false confidence blurring with real confidence as he tried to process that you actually liked him! 

“Can I ask one thing though?” He chimed in after a moment of charged silence. 

“Of course,” You let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 

“Please, never do that again,” Sirius laughed weakly.

You agreed and pulled him into a tight hug, only pulling away when the rest of your friends found you some odd minutes later, stuck in a cozy embrace.

That weekend, you and Sirius, as well as James and Lily, had a lovely double date. The kiss you’d given him after had told Sirius all he need to know. It was him and only him and had been for quite some time. All was well.  

[angelhummel]

i don't really mind quinn bc it's obvious they did what they did to her character bc RM was whiny baby over how much dianna humanized her. for the trainwreck she got i feel like dianna did the best she could lol

but santana and brittany bc they're in the show way more than quinn is after s3, i just can't lol like i saw this post interpreting santana's 'lady hummel' as a compliment considering she's a lesbian so calling kurt a girl is a good thing but i would never believe the writers intended that. it's like they wanted santana to be close w people but could not cut back on her insulting them. even like sam in s4, after she was the one who broke up with brittany?? they couldn't ever let her be right without her turning into a bitch and it's frustrating bc kurtana and pezberry even just as friendships had so much potential.

but does santana care about these people at all if she can only go on her over the top rants that genuinely hurt them instead of talking things out like a normal rational person. does she have like no qualms about tearing her so-called friends apart just bc they pissed her off (like,, ur in the right and then u go way too far and end up in the wrong what the fuck was the point)

Oh my goddd don't even mention that fucking post. "Santana calling Kurt Lady is a term of endearment bc she's a lesbian and loves ladies" alskfjslkdhgkdsjghsd kill meee. We'll really just say whatever we can to justify why the pretty cheerleader bitch is acting this way huh. Like damn I know you were just in high school but leave it behind girl. It's annoying and you're annoying xx grow out of it

Can you just imagine if literally anyone else was like that on the show?? I mean Kurt said something bitchy once and it was in response to Santana being a bitch to Rachel. And like someone compiled a gifset of Rachel insulting Santana like ?? okay and? I'm supposed to hate Rachel for the sick burn of "the only job you'll have is working on a pole" when especially in early seasons Santana is constantly acting antisemitic towards Rachel, calling her ugly, and honestly making borderline transphobic jokes whenever it comes to alluding to Rachel being a man. It's gross and disgusting and there's no excuse for it

And it's not even like "well she's a bully and she's supposed to say bullying things" bc people are too fucking stupid to assess her actions and just act like Rachel deserved all the hate she got, even for her physical appearance and her fucking nose like oh yeah it's all justified bc she's annoying :) no deeper meanings going on why do you ask :) No people have to just blindly stan every awful thing Santana does without question and act like she's always right and justified

[jemej3m]

Random au idea I had but will never work on but you might enjoy: Andrew is Kevin's bodyguard. Neil is hired to kill Kevin. (in my mind it was also a fantasy au because that's what I'm writing atm but it could work either way tbh idk)

i love this idea!!!! if you’re looking for something similar, with old courts and alliances, i can recommend @gluupor‘s version here!! its amazing 

but ur wish is my command lmao so heres 2000 words on neil and andrew with the assassin/bodyguard trope lmao

*

Neil eyed the gun with mild distaste. He knew Ichirou liked the finality of the gun, the fear it inspired in one’s eyes, but Neil just thought it was messy. 

Efficient, sure, but loud. And cumbersome. And so obvious you’re holding a gun. 

He had knives instead. 

Like father like son, his mother said scathingly. She was long gone, having taken his father right down to hell with her, but that left Neil with a criminal empire and his father’s shoes to fill. 

“Get rid of Kevin Day.” Ichirou had said, lounging in front of a fire. Neil had been seated next to him, taut and rigid, like he always was around Ichirou.

Neil wasn’t insane enough to ask why, but Ichirou soldiered on anyway. 

“My father wanted him as an asset but I see him as a loose end. I had to get rid of Riko because of that man and my brother’s jealous tendencies: He knows too much.”

Neil remembered that. He’d handed Ichirou the gun. 

“He’ll be dead within a month.” Neil promised, trying to not let his voice betray how husk-like he felt. 

*

The first problem he encountered was: Kevin Day was loved publicly, and for good reason. 

Whatever. Neil would poison him and he’d be dead before the weekend arrived, with slow-acting Ricin to put distance between Neil and Kevin’s soon-to-be-corpse. 

That would be, if Neil could even get remotely close to Kevin. 

But he couldn’t. 

He’d commandeered the neighbouring flat to Kevin’s, among the gorgeously glittering glass scapes of New York City. He lived here, too, but it was never in the metropolitan area. He lived on Ichirou’s estate with was further north, or spent time in his Baltimore jurisdiction. 

Becoming Kevin’s new neighbour was relatively simple: He’d simply sent the old woman an invitation to an eternal retreat up in Canada, after looking at her search history (he never wanted to look at an elderly woman’s search history again). She packed up her bags, and Neil slipped in easily, paying the first three months of rent up-front and bypassing the security checks for such a prestigious living space with his new alias: Neil Josten. 

He liked the name Neil. Sue him. It was more comfortable to wear than Nathaniel.

It was upon moving into the apartment that he realised: Kevin Day was never alone. He was with his fianceé, Thea Muldani, who looked as equally adept in militant training as she was in Exy. He was surrounded by his team or the press. 

Or, as Neil reluctantly discovered, he was being watched by Andrew Minyard’s careful eye. 

A quick search on Minyard revealed many things. He’d been a Doe, he’d been to juvie, he’d been involved in multiple cases on child sexual assault as a witness. This wasn’t public information: This was just Neil’s awfully good technological ministrations. 

He also had a degree in criminology from Palmetto, which was where Neil assumed he and Kevin grew close enough that Kevin would trust his protection to Andrew. 

Context was great and all, but Neil couldn’t figure out a way around Minyard for the life of him. Sometimes, when they went out clubbing to a downtown establishment called Eden’s, he would disappear for ten minutes. It was an impossible window, seeing as Kevin was never alone. 

Neil decided the only solution was to grow close enough to Andrew that he could gain the man’s trust and slip around him. His habits were routine, and he took his smoke breaks on the balcony that aligned with Neil’s. 

So every morning, Neil would be leaning on the railing with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Every morning, Minyard would slid open the door, and step out. He usually wouldn’t even look in Neil’s direction. No cordial good morning, not even a nod. 

Neil would have to catch the man’s interest. 

He’d been lucky in that his father had kept his scar-making to Neil’s torso. If Neil’d face had been disfigured, he’d be too noticeable as an assassin. He had recognisable features as it was: His red hair and blue eyes were recognisable as it was. 

So he wore an over-sized t-shirt that slipped off his shoulder and showed the worst of his scarring: a puckered bullet wound with an arc of a knife-blade through it for good measure, and the imprint of a clothes iron on his shoulder. Both were bright red against his skin and impossible to miss. 

A phone was jammed between his shoulder and his chin as he took a drag from his cigarette, hearing the door slide open. 

“…No, don’t be fucking stupid. No one can know about this. Can you imagine how much scrutiny I’d be under if they found out who it was? They wouldn’t be able to bring me down but I’d have a hell of a lot of work to do to avoid that. No, I have to go. Don’t fuck up whilst I’m gone.”

He threw his phone onto the ottoman and let out an aggravated huff, stamping out his cigarette on the railing. He shook his pack and found only a lighter, throwing the empty cartridge over the balcony with faux-frustration. 

“Quit being dramatic.” Came a voice to his right. 

Neil glanced to where Minyard was standing at the near-edge of the balcony, offering his pack. The two balconies were close enough that Neil could reach out, remaining hesitant, to take one. 

He lit it and brought it to his jaw, as was habit. “Thank you.”

“You’re wasting the nicotine.” The man insisted, with a detached gaze at Neil’s shoulder. 

Neil rose an eyebrow, pulling the shirt’s neckline up and over his scars to cover them once more. The man let his gaze flit from the shoulder to Neil’s face. “I’m more of a passive smoker.”

“Pathetic.” Minyard muttered. “You owe me a whole pack.”

Neil grinned. “Seems like a bit of a steep price.” 

“Interest rates are a killer.” He mulled. “I’m expecting it tomorrow morning, or I’ll hike the debt up to two packs.”

“Seems reasonable.” Neil let the smoke curl over his tongue before breathing it out through his nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll finish that if you won’t.” Andrew gestured to the coffee in Neil’s other hand. 

“Black and bitter? Not many people have my taste.”

The man made a scathing noise. “You’re a detriment to the human race.”

Neil put the cigarette between his lips and gave Minyard a two-finger salute. “See you tomorrow.”

Minyard hummed. 

Neil slid the balcony door shut behind him and grinned to himself. This would be fucking easy. 

*

Andrew didn’t know who Kevin’s (and by proxy, his) new neighbour was, but he was intrigued. By the sounds of the phone-call, he didn’t seem so noble, and neither did the curl to his grin. He owed Andrew for the cigarette which meant he’d see him again, and would be able to assess him once more. 

Kevin had slept like a black-out drunk after getting home from his away game, almost collapsing onto the couch. He hadn’t actually gotten black-out drunk for years, but sometimes Andrew wondered how someone acted like such a hangover without a single drop of alcohol in their system. 

He’d woken at six, as he usually did, feeling more than a little sleep-deprived. After a light workout on the rowing machine and breakfast in front of the TV, he took his coffee outside. 

There he was again. Andrew would be lying if he said the man wasn’t absolutely blessed in the appearance department, but it’d be entirely inappropriate to get with someone he’d have to see regularly after the fact. 

The man smiled from behind his mug, wearing a tight wife-beater and sweatpants that hung deliciously low on his hips with a dressing gown thrown over the top. No scars were on show, barring the slight raised bump across his hip that the tightness of his shirt revealed. 

“Here,” He said, throwing the pack at Andrew despite being probably 15 storeys above the ground. “I took one. Cash exchange percentage.”

Andrew scoffed. 

“I’m Neil, by the way.” He offered. “Neil Josten.”

“Andrew Minyard.”

“Thought so.” The man sipped on his coffee. Neil Josten. An ordinary name for such an eccentric person. “Didn’t want seem like a creep and start gushing about Day’s stats when we hadn’t even introduced ourselves yet.”

“Don’t you dare.” Andrew grunted. “I hear enough from the man himself.”

Neil laugh was a singular huff, twisting his face into something more gleeful. He leaned his elbow on the railing, facing Andrew with his head in his palm. “You’re not an Exy fan?”

“Over-exposed, you could say.” Andrew wanted to figure out Neil’s intentions. Not many continued to talk to Andrew, not when his resting gaze was somewhat murderous. What had Nicky once said? Bored murderer. Andrew would kill you and probably yawn whilst doing so.

“I gave up on pursuing it a while ago for more…” He cocked his head to the other side. “Lucrative occupations. But it’s still good to see a game every now and then. What are you, his boyfriend?”

Now that was an obvious question. “Bodyguard. Fucker seems to attract just as much bad attention as he does good attention. I’d rather throw myself off this balcony than date that mess of a human being.” 

Neil laughed again. He didn’t have a coffee or a cigarette: He’d come purely for conversation.  

Interesting, Andrew mused. 

*

Neil was getting bored, and the time constraint he’d set himself was coming to an end. He’d been living next to Kevin and Andrew for three weeks now, and Ichirou would be expecting some form of results in a few days’ time. 

Neil had met with Andrew for evening smoke breaks rather frequently, though mornings had become staple. Tonight Neil had offered a cigarette, self-rolled with a relaxant mixed into it so that he’d sleep heavily and let Neil do his snooping. 

When midnight had passed, Neil pulled his hood up and his scarf over his nose, swinging from his balcony onto Andrew’s. With a soft snick! the lock came clean under the ministrations of his picks and he slipped inside. 

He thought the place would be like Neil’s: Neither Kevin nor Andrew really seemed sentimental, or materialistic. 

Neil was horribly wrong. There was an old couch that looked like they’d hauled it from their college years all the way through to now. A knitted blanket throw was across the back cushions, facing the television. A gas fire-place had various photos on the mantelpiece, including Kevin proposing to Thea, Kevin and an older man who had to be his father and someone who would have looked like Andrew if it weren’t for the quiet smile hugging a heavily pregnant woman. Neil realised Andrew had a twin: Another photo of him showed Andrew, his brother, and a taller man with a darker complexion and a wide grin to contrast the twin’s blank faces sat toward the edge of the photo collection. 

It was odd, seeing how one’s life could expand to so many others. There was an odd sensation at the pit of Neil’s stomach: He grit his teeth and continued to the bedrooms. 

One was locked, the other wasn’t: Neil was right in assuming Kevin’s was the unlocked door and walked into his room. 

He was asleep, sprawled on his bed with his sheets wrapped around his waist. His fianceé was lying next to him, curled into his side with only a bra on. Neil wasn’t fazed: He’d killed people in far less favourable conditions, like that corrupt debt tycoon who’d hired Neil as a prostitute and welcomed him in only a leather harness. And when Neil said only, he meant only. 

Neil looked around the room. It was small, relatively neat, with large windows and an ensuite bathroom. He could stage an overdose: Kevin did have an alcohol problem in college. It seemed like the only viable option, seeing as Kevin was a world-class athlete with no recorded cardiovascular problems, no other drug abuses or suicidal tendencies. 

Neil sighed. He wished Ichirou would give him simpler jobs sometimes. He supposed that was his designed purpose: What was the point of sending out your incredibly precise and professional assassin to knock heads when their talents were best sharpened by intricate puzzles, forcing them to be as elusive as shadows in a crowd?

Neil brushed his fingers along the dresser, ignoring the photo hung on the wall of Kevin and Thea, not smiling, but completely vulnerable and open when looking into one another’s eyes. 

Neil wouldn’t lie and tell someone this job wasn’t isolating. He just didn’t have a choice. 

I don’t have a choice, He repeated to himself. I don’t have a choice. 

A shift on the mattress caught his attention. He glanced over: Thea was blinking up at him, rubbing one eye. 

“Andrew?” She muttered. “Is that you?”

Neil said nothing, slipping out of the room and out onto the balcony once more, retreated back into his apartment. 

He’d have to ask Ichirou for more time. He needed a better plan. 

*

Andrew seemed irritated the next morning when they met up again for a smoke and lazy conversation. 

“Are you alright?” Neil asked. 

Andrew sent Neil a scathing look and said nothing. He went through his smoke too fast and drained the coffee: Neil handed him another cigarette, free of relaxant this time. “Did you see anything of interest last night?”

“Not that I can recall.” Neil leaned a little closer. “Have you checked cameras?”

“Nothing.” He said sourly. “Kevin’s infantile lover-girl swore she saw me in their room last night, but I was dead asleep all night. If anyone had been walking around the apartment I would have woken up.”

“Interesting.” Neil said, hiding his smile behind his mug. “I’ll let you know if I ever notice something out of the ordinary.” 

Andrew nodded. 

The rest of their routine meeting passed in silence. 

*

im gonna write a p.2……how many times have i said that over the past few days lmao im a mess

[twins-parted]

                                          Kiss, Kiss ( Heather Meme ) || Accepting !!!

@allbravado​ Said: “ 💋⁉️ for all our ships mayhaps 👀 or whichever one(s) ur feeling The Most Rn. “

* ( Second down, 1 to go. ) * -> Time skipped from this ask. 

Jonah was glad he hadn’t really needed to jump off a bridge ... he’d have missed seeing Cherry’s pretty face too much. ( Of course, it was also nice that she’d taken him up on his offer. That had been a little unexpected. ) He’d spent much of the day cleaning up the house, fussing over his appearance & getting assorted snacks ready. 

Honestly, Seth was the TV Show / Movie date expert and Jonah clung to each word exiting his brother’s mouth like his very life depended on it. 20 minutes before they’d scheduled to meet up Seth and Edith were ready to depart on their own adventure: renewing Seth’s license at the DMV. 

“ You probably have, uh - - - a couple hours to make a move or something, don’t waste it. Okay, Dumbass ?? Good luck. “ 

Jonah rolled his eyes and pushed his brother out the door behind their sister. He found himself seated stiffly waiting on the couch for her to arrive & after about 10 minutes - a tentative knock on the front door sent his heart through a relay of olympic activity. He forced himself to move a little more slowly than usual - to give the impression of confidence & carefully crafted nonchalance. 

He had this. 

Hadn’t he been practicing two very simple greetings: “ Hello, Cherry. “ & “ Hiya, Cherry. “ 

He could do this. 

He opened the door, self - assured expression of pomposity evident in his features, he opened his mouth & - - -

“Hi - O, Cherry. “

Oof !!!

He’s dealt himself a massive blow to his self-esteem. Perfect, he was a fraid he’d make it out of today unscathed.

His hand automatically covers his face and he takes a shaky breath in and out, before dropping it & running his tongue over his top lip thoughtfully:

“ ... and in that vein, we begin the afternoon. Please, come in. “ 

He stepped out of the way to let her in & then led the way to the living room, he’d pre-recorded several shows & sat the remote on the couch. 

“ I’m going to go grab some popcorn & water for us, you can choose what you want us to watch. I’ll be back in a moment. “

He took the time to gather the items he’d promised to take back, stopping in front of the pantry to gently ‘ thump ‘ his forehead against the old teak wood door. 

“ Why am I so so so horrendously, completely, entirely & utterly stupid ? Seth sapped all the charm out of me in the womb and left me with the anxiety. That’s probably what happened. Well, ready or not - I have to go back in there. “

He took up their snacks in one arm and purposefully made his way back to the living room.  

Cherry had settled on a episode of ‘ Catfish ‘, she seemed either dazed - or was trying to tune it out. He paused in the doorway just to look at her. 

... Even knowing it was probably kind of creepy. 

She had gotten comfortable on the left side of the couch, and he very much liked the idea of her being installed there every other Saturday. Less than a foot away from him, maybe holding his hand ??? 

Wishful thinking, most likely. 

( Cherry was probably one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen and he was always struck by just how stunning she looked bathed in golden sunlight. Come to think of it, she looked just as gorgeous under the fluorescent ones at school  even if they made her look more tired than normal. It was strangely charming, her eyes were usually heavy & she’d go about the school day with a dreamy quality clinging to her. She had it even now as she stared in the direction of the screen. ) 

Quietly, he moved around the couch to take his own seat, his bowl of popcorn already nestled on his lap as he settled in. He sat Cherry’s snacks down with a small ‘ Crack ‘ of the popcorn bowl on the tile table. It seemed to startle her out of whatever trance she’d been in & Jonah couldn’t stifle a laugh. She was so cartoonishly wild-eyed, something in the range of Bambi, that he almost found himself swooning just from the intensity of her accidental charm & the proximity in which they found themselves. 

“ Sorry for laughing, you just looked so cute that I - - - “

Jonah’s mouth snapped shut and he shook his head. He could almost feel flames coming off his cheeks and the tips of his ears from his blush.  

“ That was incredibly forward, sorry about that. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, I’ve been weird since you got here 15 minutes ago & I’m so sorry. “

 “ It’s really okay. I promi - “

He couldn’t hear her as he continued:

“I just, I really really like you. I wanted to spend more time with you outside of school, alone ... “

He grimaced:

“ I didn’t mean for that to come out creepy. I just want you to like me at least a little. I mean, it would be really great if we liked one another the same amount  - - - but, I guess ... ”

“ Jonah ! “ 

He blinked, and smiled apologetically: 

“ Sorry ... I - - - “

“ Jonah. You can just kiss me already ?? If you want. “

( Hadn’t his mother said you shouldn’t keep a lady waiting after she’s asked you something ? ) 

He leaned the last few inches to close the gap between them. 

He noted, as his lips pressed gently - but firmly against Cherry’s that they were a tad on the cracked or dry side. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind it at all. She tried to move her arms to wrap them around his neck, and in so doing knocked his popcorn out of his lap, covering them & the couch & the floor in salty snack food. 

She tried to pull away to assess the damage, but his arms around her middle tightened playfully as she stared at him slightly perplexed.

“ ... I should clean that up, right ? “

 ( Not that it stopped her in the slightest from leaning back into their previous activities, either much to Jonah’s delight. ) 

“ What’s the rush ?? “ 

He leaned in again, placing smaller more measured kisses against her mouth & tempering them with longer more lingering ones:

“ We ... ” 

Smooch. 

“ Can ... “ 

Long smoldering smooch.

“ Get it ... “ 

Double cute smooch.

“ Later. “

After this exchange & a few more minutes of holding one another for good measure - both ended up falling asleep sitting right there in the popcorn mess & that’s exactly how Edith and Seth found & left them, until it was time for Cherry to head home. 

[doggy-woggy]

Studying Together (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Requested by @spaghetittiesbcimgay: “dude i love ur writing!! could u do one where rogah and reader have been friends since high school and now they’re in college studying for exams?? and basically rogah can’t stop staring @ reader bc he thinks she looks beautiful concentrating like that.. and basically feelings boil over and fluff ensues?? and could u do the same type of thing where reader is doing a self portrait and she hates it bc she’s self conscious but rogah loves it bc it’s her?? thank you so much dude :))|”

A/N: Thanks for the request! I decided to combine your two prompts into one. I’ve never done requests before and I didn’t know how well I can do them so I thought in case this is bad, it’s better to have one disappointment than two :/ It came out very cheesy smh. Also excuse the misleading title since they won’t actually be “studying” in this. Anyway, hope you like it!

Can be read as Ben Hardy!Roger

Words: 1.6k Warning: Fluff, some light cursing Unedited ******************************************

Roger tapped his pencil at the edge of his drawing file as he looked at you. Your head was lying on the armrest of the couch and your feet were stretched into his lap.

“Roger?” you started, not removing your eyes from the paper in front of you. He hummed in response. “Stop that,” you said.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, with the corners of his mouth turning up.

“The tapping,” you looked up at him seriously.

“Oh.” Roger put down his file and stretched his arms leisurely. He put an arm over the back of the couch and leaned his head on it.

Both of you had to submit a self-portrait for the art class you were taking that semester. You had often studied or worked on projects together since high school. You got work done only half the time because you’d always end up finding ways to distract yourselves in each other’s company. 

But this submission was important and you had both promised to do nothing but work, except Roger just couldn’t focus.

He wasn’t fully conscious of it, but his gaze rested on your face. You looked messier than usual, given the stress of finals, but he loved the way your hair unintentionally fell out around your face. He observed the way your tongue poked out slightly in the look of pure concentration on your face and he smiled to himself.

“Y/N, I’m bored,” he whined.

“Come on, Roger the deadline is this week. If we don’t do this right we might just fail,” you looked at him sadly.

“Nah, we won’t fail,” he said lightly tickling your feet. You laughed and instinctively kicked your foot violently into the air. “Geez,” Roger laughed.

“Not unless you don’t start working on your portrait now.” You reminded him.

He didn’t react, but extended his arm to the side of your head and pulled it back to show you the coin he had supposedly pulled from behind your ear, grinning smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “Roger, come on. You’re distracting me. We promised we will try to focus.”

“Ugh, this is so stupid! How can they grade us on art anyway? Isn’t art the reflection of the soul? And if this is a world where one soul gets to assess the worth of another soul, much less assess it by a presentation that the soul may or may not accurately be able to express, then I don’t want to be in this world,” he huffed.

“Well too bad you’re already in this world. And you don’t get to leave it anytime soon, not without me at least. Now your soul might just be expressed as a little dot on this paper but the professor’s soul sure as hell won’t give you a grade for that.” You sighed. “So, we have to adhere to the rules of this world and make a presentable self-portrait that appeals to the majority of art intellectuals and academics, and most importantly, the professor.” You looked back down to your page and murmured, “Come on. We got this.”

With that, you returned to the file resting on your thigh. Roger’s amused eyes lingered on you for a few moments longer, filled with adoration. He reached for his pencil and returned his attention to his file.

After about an hour, you felt frustration take over. You glanced up to find Roger already looking at you, but he quickly looked away when he saw you noticing.

“Roger I can’t do this!” You said, slapping down your file. He looked up and you continued, “This is impossible. I can’t draw myself. I don’t even remember how I look anymore!”

“Like an ogre,” he smirked.

“Not fucking funny,” you gritted your teeth as you threw a cushion at him. “This looks so ugly.”

Roger peered over your file to look at your portrait, and just blinked at it. “Y/N, this is fantastic,” he whispered. He saw your faithless expression. “I’m not kidding, it really is beautiful,“ he tried to convince but you still looked dejected. “Hey, you know, it looks very you. So at least you've got the concept of self-portrait down?” He offered.

You had your eyebrow cocked as you stared at him weirdly. “Whatever. This was a practice sketch anyway,” you said as you began to rip the page out of the notebook.

“Don’t do that!” Roger cried.

“Look I can’t hand this in. I’ve drawn closed eyelids. And it looks bland. You know I can’t draw eyes for shit but I feel like it looks lazy to draw closed lids without a purpose.” You finished tearing the page, and looked up to see Roger’s expression frozen in panic. Just as you were about to crumple up the page, Roger grabbed your knee to stop you.

“At least-“ he sighed, “at least let me have it.” He avoided your gaze as he took the portrait from your hand, hiding his reddening cheeks, and carefully placed it on the coffee table.

You sat in silence for a minute before you said: “Show me yours.”

“No,” he returned.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Show me!” you pressed as you reached over to grab his file.

“No!” he repeated as he backed the file away from your reach.

You put down your drawing file and got up on your knees to get further. You ignored Roger’s protests as he murmured “No, stop it!” while you climbed over him to get to the file.

Roger loved the proximity, and couldn’t help but glance down at the back of your leg, where your pyjama shorts where high up your thigh, given your stretched-out body. He always loved those shorts on you.

In his distraction, you were able to reach the file, and Roger gave in. You blew out air as you sat down with it and looked at two gorgeous eyes drawn on the sheet.

“Wow,” you gasped. You studied the eyes. Although he pretended to have limited interest in it, you always knew he could draw extremely well, since you’d caught plenty of glimpses of his doodles in his school notebooks. This pair of eyes, however, was breath-taking.

“But they don’t look like yours,” you thought aloud. You didn’t notice how Roger’s cheeks seemed to have changed permanently to crimson. He scratched the back of his neck and put his hand inside the top of his shirt.

“That’s because they’re not.”

“Forgot the ‘self’ in ‘self-portrait Rog?” you laughed. “Well, whose are they then?”

Roger looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher. After seeming to contemplate it, he briefly stated, “Yours.”  

You stared at him, confused and not knowing what to say. He seemed uncomfortable. “They’re your eyes, Y/N. I think they’re beautiful.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well...they’re sure prettier on here than the real thing,” you joked, a little taken aback.

“Well, in any case, I can’t ever seem to look away.” He drew in a breath and took your hands in both of his. “Y/N I can’t do this anymore.”

You sat up straighter as you looked at him with concern. “Do what?”

“I can’t keep looking at you and not be able to do anything else.” His eyes roamed the room. “You probably think of me as some kind of an idiot, but…whenever I’m with you I just want to stay with you, and I can’t focus because you’re all I can think about. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long and now I-”

He stopped abruptly as you reached out to brush your knuckles on the side of his head. He looked at you as you gazed back into his wide eyes that were slowly growing droopy. “Roger,” you breathed as you took in his words. “Can I-do you want me to kiss you?”

Roger closed his eyes for a moment as his silent breath quickened. “More than anything,” he said softly, his breath fanning your face.

You leaned forward to brush your lips with his. You then kissed him properly, and felt his arms wrap around your waist. You laced your fingers in his blonde hair as his hands swiftly roamed your body, seeming unable to settle at just one place.

You pulled away to catch a breath, and he chased your lips with his. You looked up at him to see him part his eyelids slowly, a dopey smile playing across his lips.

“Roger, I really like you. No. More than that. I don’t know what it is but I have felt it for quite a while now,” you said nervously.

“Really?” He smiled. “Y/N, you don’t know how happy that makes me. I really, really like you too.”

Silence fell over as you two simply smiled at each other like idiots. Your gaze then dropped to the two pieces of art lying in front of you. “You’ve drawn the part of me that I couldn’t figure out for myself,” you observed, looking at the pair of eyes he drew.

“I suppose that’s right,” Roger chuckled.

You smiled broadly at him and raised your eyebrows. You put on a high pitched voice and a dramatic accent to say “I guess you complete me.”

Roger rolled his eyes but laughed as he pinned you down on the couch to dive in with his lips. Once again, you two had found a way to distract yourselves from work.

**************************

I apparently have a problem with concision. Feedback is very welcome! @theedwardscollection

[peach-pops]

hi *farts* can i hav a romantic matchup pls🥺either gender is fine👉🏻👈🏻don’t hav any team preferences bc i‼️am‼️a‼️WHORE‼️moving on.. i’m like 160cm n i have grey(eye)balls, bleached hair but my natural colour is brown and big ass cheek dimple. ngl chief my sense of humour is kinda DUMB so if u say pee pee poo poo i’m prolly gonna😹😹😹so anyone that’ll laugh at my doo doo jokes OR b stupid w me wuld b guwd🥴dumb n dumber tease(*^ω^*). i’m lactose intolerant but idc😠(pt1) -🤼‍♀️ besty

(cont) ...drink that🍓 milk! get bad poopies and farts! #YOLO! i like art, anime and gaming😈gamer gurl alert‼️but by gaming i mean hatsune miku project diva, acnh and minecraft...fav songs rn are obsessed w u by the orion experience and lovecats by the cure JUST NEVER GET OLD CHEFS KISS. i can b pretty affectionate w my bestys and i love to bully them❤️ i can blow rlly big spit bubbles after monster energy drinks and i consider that a talent❤️ (pt2) -🤼‍♀️besty || (cont)  also have this weird obsession w baths lately my record is 7 hours with no breaks kinda crazy... lowkey shy around strangers if i don’t have someone i know w me.. OH AND i’m INTP personality type(same as kenma we do be like👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨soulmates tho..) damb rlly went ahead and wrote a whole novel shesh✍️📖 sorry about that... but UR THE BEST MWAH KISSY LOVE U (LAST PART FROM 🤼‍♀️ BESTY

First off, “ don’t have any team preferences bc i!!am!!a!!WHORE” I’ve never related to anything more in my life. Also, rise up lactose intolerant gang!

I ship you with Noya AND HEAR ME OUT!

The absolute crackhead energy your relationship would have would be way too powerful I’m pretty sure the world would crack open because you two are too frickin similar

you know how some couples send horny late night texts to each other? You guys send the funniest memes to each other that have definitely woken up your whole house I can just see it

There would never be a dull moment between the two of you, even running errands with him to go to the laundromat would result in you both holding your sides IN PAIN as the two of you laugh your assess off

Noya isn’t too sensitive so it’s pretty common that you’ll both tease and pick on each other and there’s never any real harm 

“ Yeah dipshit, the point of the game is to not kill yourself, you do know that right?”

“ CLOWN!!! You really tried it huh shrimp dick?”

“ YOU KNOW IT’S NOT SMALL IM PACKIN SHMEAT!” 

(I’m sorry wha- A SEVEN HOUR BATH! HOW MUCH FREE TIME DO YOU HAVE AREN’T YOU PRUNY!)

Noya would definitely try to do it with you but that boy has ADHD so sad 

But yall would both fit perfectly in a tub together that’s so uwu

He would love to massage your back in the tub he’s handsy tho so watch out

I think he’d be such a sucker for your dimples like you can be minding your own business doing homework and I can totally see him just peeking his head up from behind the couch like “ mmm dimples” 

Deadass he’ll walk over to you and start poking your cheeks even after you threaten to bite his finger off so he switches from poking you with his finger to just kissing your cheek over and over just so he can see you smile even harder

“ Yu, stop it, you’re all sweaty!”

“ Shut up, you’re smiling I know you love me”

“ I’m being TORTURED!”

I know it seems like the two of you dating sounds like it’s crazy all the time but I firmly believe this man would stop at nothing to make you happy

He’s so whipped for you like oh you haven’t had lunch? He will give you everything he has on his plate

You’re computer shut down while in the middle of a game? He will literally rush over and help you fix it and if he doesn’t know how, he will watch videos on it just for you

 whenever there is a quiet moment between the two of you, he will just stare at you with no shame because he thinks the world of you and even though he’s a pretty happy person, I think everyone around you two sees that there’s something different about him 

[gg-astrology]

Hey sweets, do you mind speaking about a Virgo Sun ~ Aries Moon combo when you have the time. Thank you 😘💞💞💞

Oof sweets?? 💕💕 that’s so cute! 😘💕 I hope ure doing well!!! 💕💕

[Below Cut: Virgo Sun - Aries Moon 🌴]

One thing I like about this combo is their driving force/power

It’s understated because underneath that Virgo exterior, it’s always simmering inside

You don’t really notice it until they start snapping lsjdnfksn and then that’s like-- the dam is broken and then they start laying it out on you, barking commands, letting it all out of their system in one big good flow of frustration/anger that’s unusual from their normally collected and sharp persona.

This obviously a straight-forward situation. It depends on context/situation but usually Virgo/Aries wouldn’t get mad at you (although they can get moody) the main point was--- there’s some noticeable tension between the Virgo/Aries combo that’s just fascinating to see

Like.....with Virgos there’s often a carefulness to them and that’s part of the first thing you see. It’s them trying to keep control, there’s a restless energy simmering on their skin and they’re often trying to be THE most reasonable person who quietly stays in control at all times.

Yet at the same time, the arguably frustrating energy inside the Virgo is more restless and enhanced because of Aries. Aries Moon wants OUT it wants to GO it wants to CLAIM without reasoning nor logic behind it.

Pretty much...this might not be what you might want to hear but Virgo/Aries combination their Virgo analytical aspect or archetype might be more prominent within them

The only thing different between the ‘typical’ Virgo archetype and this one is the lack of timidity--- these Virgo/Aries people often knows that power can be subtle, but confidently wield it will have much more impact

They don’t NEED to be overt to gain control over the situation, or control over power. They don’t NEED to be loud or ‘out-there’ to command attention to them when they need to be.

These Virgo/Aries people are the one who likes to be in control, maybe evaluate sometimes (*if theres something in your chart contributing to it) that they do not turn into control freaks and get upset and a slight disturbance in their normal daily alignment. Watch for slight possessiveness over people/objects/environment/habits, even if it may be well-intentioned.

These people are good at speaking with power, often those who has honest eyes and they often won’t sugar coat their words (*although with development, they can be gentle and wield them carefully too)

Their voice can be subtle in situations that requires tact, or it can get booming when they need to go there (although they’ll rarely like losing control completely, so even if they’re mad. They’re more of the type to try to control their anger than start screaming at someone -- more like criticizing them and demanding that ‘this isn’t right’)

These people can often be mistaken (by others) as Scorpios mostly because of the tension they hold inside, their power sparks this kind of undercurrent energy in them that gets evoked occasionally. 

The difference between Scorpio and Virgo/Aries person however-- is that Scorpio energy is water. There’s a level of emotionality to them, which might led many to believe they may attack on the emotional level as well (appealing to other’s emotions/logic-- that’s where the ‘manipulation’ idea came from). 

Whilst Virgo/Aries is all hard rationality, criticism and frustration, driven to extremes can be unreasonably out of context and trying to use their ‘judgement’ as means of objectivity/behaviour change for another person (straight-forward, pure and honest, can’t hide from themselves. 

Tries to control themselves because they don’t like the part about their ‘raw/childish’ Aries. But the Virgo’s vigilance can only last as long as they bend to the Aries’s power and not break their own backs trying to keep them down) 

I think for the Virgo/Aries person themselves, understanding the tension of how Virgo is a perfectionist and Aries has high ideals can be the core of the situation

Aries is about the raw self, the core self. This energy is untamed, unruly and often fearless. Childish and self-centered/assured. Virgo is careful, often calm, works hard and pays attention to what it could do, could be doing. Socially conscious and nervous/anxious. 

Whenever Virgo is like ‘this is enough’ the Aries is always whispering ‘more’. When the Virgo is like ‘I could do better..’ the Aries is like ‘so what about it?’

It’s a cycle of your emotionality often egging your vitality/ego. Some frustration between the two, trying to prove each other wrong and that they could be the better counterpart.

The person themselves may have moments where they’re Aries--- laughing having fun, playful and tactile. 

While another part of you may take over quickly, switching to Virgo--- who’s in control, calm, ready to communicate about the situation and figure out what needs to do. 

This dual quality to you is noticeable, but also something that should be noted that it’s often separated from each other. Usually by conditions/context of the environment around you. 

If it’s a high-tension situation, Virgo takes over and Aries backs it up. Making for a person who can be demanding and assertive, who maybe nervous but shuts that down in order to get work done.

If it’s a low-tension but still frustrating situation-- Aries breaks fairly easily, frustration and snapping. Letting the frustration show like a dam broken while Virgo tries to keep things in tact, do damage control even when Aries is snapping (there’ll always be a part of the person who’s unwilling to let go of themselves completely, always aware of the social context and how they can salvage any relationships, any context past that moment/point where they’re laying it out for the other person)

In no-tension situation-- the Virgo and Aries relax, can make for a witty person. Often sarcastic or snarky. Perhaps easy to laugh by unexpected things (Aries likes excitement and Virgo enjoys things done subtlety)---Easy-going, laid-back. A little more held together through innocence in their charm that Virgo lets out to show.

Part of you may be youthful at heart, childish and carefree. Letting yourself show that outwardly to others can be an awkward affair. 

Without reassurance or self-affirmation, the person may regularly face problems with having particularly high self-image/expectations of themselves, yet constantly frustrated at how to get there/aren’t feeling completely aligned with themselves/their ideals.

There’s a noticeable trait in Virgo/Aries though-- and that’s usually through where they put their energy. In their productivity, they want to feel like they’ve worked hard and that they’ve conquered a challenge. They like the ‘good burn’ of feeling proud of themselves-- recognized by others for their serious nature and exactness, their driving force and power.

It stops the voice in their head momentarily, makes them feel gratification from their productivity/activities. The thing these people have to realize is that they soak up environmental tension. That’s a crucial part of their being they tend to overlook

Mostly because they tend to be self- accessive, they may neglect to think that they are rather receptive to other people/energetic tension in their environment too. 

While they may pride themselves in keeping a cool, calm, accurate assessment when they are in ‘productive’ mode (whilst the tension is high) the key thing they should be looking at is that there was something that triggered them into this ‘productive/work’ mode in the first place.

They are receptive to the environment, to people and to behaviour patterns. Learning to recognize that you are intuitive/receptive to this allows you to know that you’re influenced by the stress/tension of your environment too (because the Virgo/Aries was too busy arguing they didn’t realize they had to protect themselves against this factor) 

This heavily compromised the way they work, the way tension builds and the way they snap. With Virgo/Aries it’s highly likely they may get sick, fatigue or feel it physically. Because they are rather--- dense, when it comes to when to take breaks or what their body needs, they may not recognize that it’s been bogging down on them (they’re always in the conscious zone of their persona) -- until it suddenly snaps and they’re taken off-guard by how they feel/who they are/how their health is.

Make sure to learn how to guard and take precautions against emotional tension and how your body/mind reacts to it. These people rarely go into the mysticism, but if one thing more subtle could help them it’s in doing Yoga, Tai-Chi. Meditation. Learning how to get past their ‘communication/affection barrier’ when they’re relaxing, having fun and start balancing/typing their Virgo/Aries together in that area (strengthen it’s significance in their life) is also important. 

Taking care of your health WILL help you balance yourself out, no matter how much these people think they can ‘work normally/be normal’ or ‘have strength’--- they will only see things from their perspective until they learn how to BALANCE

They are NOT superman and no matter how much they want to fully concentrate on pushing their energy onto something--- it is NOT productive if they don’t learn about their flaws or how to balance them in these subvert ways/methods as well (trust me it’ll help). 

If you have a Cancer near you, or a Libra. Talk to them (*hopefully one that’s aware/self-developed) so that they can tell you why/how you’re being stupid and neglecting yourself in certain situations.

Human life is more than one area of concentrated efforts. More than two or three areas where they put their energy into. Human life/experience is promising yourself you will take care of ‘you’ better, and giving other areas of your life a chance to be significant.

If you need a visual reference: imagine the wheel chart. All the houses represents different things. You can occupy two houses, and have a lot of energy in those areas (or any houses your planets are in). But the rest of your houses are places where you can put your energy into as well (to learn how to balance)

That’s why we have 12 houses, so we can learn how to balance ourselves out and our energy. Your houses don’t have to have planets in all of them, it’s good to have empty ones. But it doesn’t mean it’s insignificant.

Empty houses can be influenced by it’s ruling sign (say Leo in 6H, so you look at where the sun is and it’s Virgo in 7H) Leo is influenced by the Sun, it’s counterpart, it’s ruler. Whatever Virgo Sun in 7H is doing in that house, the Leo in 6H energy is going to be influenced by it as well. 

Anyways we’re getting off-topic, ending note is that these people may be subtle, powerful and sharp. But their immense control and concentrating power can also be their downfall if they don’t realize they’re much more vulnerable and sensitive than they are.

Especially in areas they never expected their krptonite to be in. Make sure to evaluate yourself and how you take care of you--- asking for help, or having a friend/family take care of you is also crucial. Because you can tend to ‘over-do’ yourself often.

(They remind me of people who probably came down with a flu at some point in their life, and their in-productivity makes them so miserable they probably insists they’re fine just to get to do something)

Anyways!! 💕 I hope you enjoy!! 💕 (Also check your Mars and Mercury for this one!! Those can have some influences on what your ‘triggers’ are!)

[comfortbucky]

I asked for the doctor!bucky andd you don't have to write but I forgot to ask... He is like a really busy doctor and it surprises the female reader that he is going to do her stitches... Wanda is his assistant. He has to give you a pain numbing shot in your cut and he comforts you when you scream and writh in pain... Thanks xxx

𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆｡˚

pairing: doctor!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of bloody injuries, medical settings, stitches, needles

A/N: omg i’ve never written for doctor!bucky before so i’m excited hehe :) thank u for ur request! // i changed around who was administering the numbing agent and doing the stitches btw i hope u don't mind, just made more sense in my head for bucky to be able to comfort her if his hands are free!

hope u enjoy! <3 sorry if this isn't that good asjdfhaldf

Y/L/N = your last name

also let me just indulge myself and sprinkle some of my own experiences in this bc a couple months ago i literally slammed my head into a wall and cut my eyelid😃nothing bad enough to get stitches but i do have a scar💗

word count: 2k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

“Y/N! Come quick!”

Y/N was digging through her dresser for a sweater when her roommate, Darcy, called out for her. She lifted her head up and spun it without thinking, completely forgetting that her dresser was situated in the corner of her room, slamming her head into the wall.

Her ears started to ring and she bent over in laughter, her natural response to pain, as tears threatened to fall down her face.

“Y/N?” Darcy was met by silence, Y/N struggling to respond, her body overcome with laughter so hard she was inaudible. Concerned that Y/N had knocked herself out cold, Darcy peeked her head around the corner of Y/N’s doorway, to find her hurled over, a hand over her left eye, drops of crimson blood on the ground.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Y/N lifted her head, calming down from her fit of laughter, and nodded.

“Yeah, of course, this would happen to me,” she replied chuckling, taking a tissue from Darcy to put pressure on her cut.

Carefully making her way to a mirror, Y/N grabbed her phone on the way. She stared at her reflection and slowly removed the tissue from her face to examine the extent of her injury. It was steadily bleeding, most likely a bad sign. Y/N placed her tissue back over her cut and reached for her phone and Facetimed her friend Matt, an EMT.

“Hello- What the fuck happened to you?”

“Hi Matt,” she replied, shooting him a grin through the screen. “Slammed my head against the wall, by accident.”

“I would hope so,” he sighed. “Let me guess, you’re wondering whether you should go to the ER or not?”

“You know me so well, Matty.”

“Has it stopped bleeding?” Y/N removed the tissue and felt a warm liquid trail down the side of her face.

“No.”

“Go to the ER, please.” She groaned.

If there was one place in the world she despised, it was a hospital. But Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to convince either of her friends otherwise, and dragged her feet as she reluctantly followed Darcy to her car.

It was a normal night in the ER, which meant a fury of organized chaos. Bucky found himself needed in 6 places, all at the same time. But this was an environment that he had become accustomed to, almost finding comfort in the madness of it all. Although the ER was bustling with patients, there weren’t any injuries that were very severe, mostly just broken bones and lacerations. Simple enough to the point where Bucky felt like he was operating on autopilot mode. Going through the motions of whatever task he needed to do, but not anything more than that. He felt numb. For the last several years of his life, the hospital was all that he knew. Bucky kept himself busy with work, leaving him with only a small social circle and his cat, Alpine. It was enough for him, but he never really felt complete. Which is why he threw himself into his work, drowning out his inner thoughts about a missing piece he never thought he’d find.

“Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 25.”

Bucky took a quick sip of his coffee and sighed before heading off to see his next patient. Wanda appeared from around the corner and started walking with him.

“This one’s a simple laceration, just might need stitches.” Bucky nodded in response to her, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

She was one of the select few who he considered a friend. Which was a little odd considering he was an attending and she was only a resident. But she was a good student, a fast learner, and one of the only residents he was ever willing to work with. He took her under his wing, fostering a friendship by spending time together in his office, reviewing various medical cases and files.

“Alright, you up to do them?”

Wanda came to a halt, Bucky taking a couple steps before looking back at her, tilting his head, waiting for a response.

“Y-Yeah, yes!” She stammered. “T-thank you, Dr. Barnes.” He nodded his head and turned back around to continue walking, Wanda close behind.

Y/N was sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding a blood-soaked tissue over her left eye. Her leg was bouncing, a nervous tic she had developed from a young age. The adrenaline had worn off, forcing her to feel a throbbing pain, her eyes brimming with tears. She avoided crying in front of people whenever possible, so as soon as Darcy left to grab some coffee and snacks from the cafeteria, she let the floodgates open. The sound of footsteps approaching made her freeze and she used her sleeves to sloppily wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

A firm, but somehow also gentle, voice called out to her before the curtain was pulled open to reveal a tall man with dark brown hair, a stubbly beard, and stunningly blue eyes standing next to a woman with blazing red hair and contrasting green eyes. Y/N’s gaze was immediately fixated on the man’s eyes, unable to look away for a moment, before she realized she was staring. She quickly looked down and cleared her throat.

“Y/N, you can just call me Y/N.”

The man nodded and set down his clipboard at the end of the bed before speaking.

“I’m Dr. Barnes and this is Dr. Maximoff.” The woman gave a slight wave as she began charting on a computer. “Can I take a look at your eye?”

Y/N nodded, feeling her anxiety rise as the doctor pulled some gloves on and approached her.

He pulled over a stool to sit on and carefully removed the tissue that Y/N had been holding in place to assess the injury. While Bucky looked at her cut, he stole a glance to study the rest of her face. He couldn't help but take note of the pained look on her face, her eyes still watery and her button nose red from crying. It was the first time in a long time that he felt a twinge of pain while looking at someone's injury, that he felt practically anything at all during a shift. She felt his warm breaths on her face for a moment before he pulled away and replaced her bloody tissue with some gauze.

“Do you mind if she takes a look as well?” Y/N nodded again. Bucky got up from the stool, allowing Wanda to take his spot and assess her eye.

“So it looks like you just need 2 or 3 stitches, very simple procedure.”

Y/N felt her entire body tense up at Wanda's conclusion. She could barely stand sitting in a hospital bed alone and now she was about to get poked and prodded with needles. Bucky noticed and attempted to ease her worries.

"We'll administer a numbing agent, so you won't feel any pain, just pressure at the site."

She looked up at Bucky, who had a kind, tired expression on his face. It looked like he was having a long night and she didn't want to make his job any more difficult than it probably already was. Y/N gave him a small nod and Wanda started to gather the necessary supplies.

She laid back in bed with Wanda and Bucky sitting next to each other on her left. Her hands were folded on her stomach, eyes shut.

"You're gonna feel a slight pinch, okay?" She nodded and bit her lip to try and distract herself.

Wanda proceeded to administer the numbing shot and Y/N squeezed her hands tight, whimpering in pain. Bucky observed the pained expression on her face and placed a hand on her forearm, reflexively rubbing his thumb in small circles. When Wanda pulled the needle out, Y/N slowly fluttered her eyes open and was greeted by Bucky's warm smile. A blush crept to her cheeks and she turned her attention to the ceiling. Immediately, Bucky realized how unprofessional his action was and removed his hand. He had no idea what had come over him, but he'd never felt so drawn to someone like this before.

"Now I'm going to do the stitches, okay? You should just feel a slight pressure." Just as before, Y/N shut her eyes after Wanda spoke and gripped her hands tight. She felt the pressure that Wanda was talking about and couldn't help but squirm at the feeling. Another wave of anxiety rushed over her and she felt herself start to hyperventilate.

Wanda removed the needle and quickly turned to Bucky, a panicked look on her face. He gave her a reassuring look before speaking softly.

"Y/N? Do you think you could hold still for just a little longer?" She opened her eyes, brimming with tears.

"Sorry, I just, I hate needles." Y/N fiddled with her hands as she kept her gaze up, trying to avoid the tears from escaping. Bucky felt his heart sink in his chest at the sight.

"What do you think would help you relax?"

Thoughts ran through her head as she tried to find a solution to relieve her anxiety. Y/N thought back to when she was young and chuckled, remembering a stuffed whale that she got at an aquarium, that went everywhere with her.

"This is stupid but, when I was a kid, I would carry around this stuffed animal around and it helped to hold it whenever I had to get shots."

Bucky thought for a moment and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he was going to regret the words about to leave his mouth.

"You could hold my hand."

Y/N and Wanda both looked at him with surprised expressions, regret instantly hitting him.

"If you're comfortable with it," he quickly clarified. Y/N felt the corner of her mouth curve into a smile as she nodded.

She laid back down and Bucky took her hand in his. The instant transfer of heat soothed Y/N and she shut her eyes to allow Wanda to get to work.

When she felt the pressure on her eye again, her hand automatically gripped Bucky's tighter, and he squeezed it back to help calm her. Y/N focused on the callousness of his hands, how his hand seemed to fit into hers perfectly. Suddenly, she was thinking about his eyes again, those glimmering blue eyes. Blue was always a calming color for her, reminiscent of her trip to the aquarium where she got her beloved stuffed whale. As she felt Bucky's thumb gently rub the top of her hand, she realized that her whale could never provide as much comfort as he did.

Bucky felt a sense of pride as he watched the tension in Y/N's face disappear. Suddenly, he found his eyes wandering, looking at the loose strands of hair on the right side of her face, the rosiness of her cheeks, how she glowed. His heart started to palpate and Bucky realized a flame had kindled inside him. He was feeling again.

"All done!" Wanda chirped, stepping aside to let Bucky check her work. He smiled at her patted her on the back with his free hand.

"You did good." Wanda beamed and thanked him, walking away to complete her charting.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, still feeling the warmth of Bucky's hand in hers. He greeted her with a tender smile and slowly helped her up, placing his other hand on the small of her back.

"See? Wasn't that bad after all," he grinned, releasing her hand. Y/N's smile faltered, missing his touch, and nodded.

"Thank you, Dr. Barnes."

"Bucky," he stated. She raised an eyebrow. "Call me Bucky."

The pair stared at each other in silence, enjoying each other's presence before the PA system snapped them both out of their trance.

"Dr. Barnes, paging Dr. Barnes to bed 16."

Bucky sighed, slowly getting up from his seat.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N."

"You too, Bucky."

He turned around and was about to pull the curtain open when he paused, turning back around to face Y/N, scratching the back of his head. It took one look at her face and Bucky knew he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"Would you like to get coffee sometime?" She beamed up at him and Bucky felt his knees go weak.

"I would like that very much." He chuckled in disbelief and smiled.

Bucky had finally found his missing piece.