#do you seriously want me to be exiting class when it's already dark out i literally will kill us all

[rpfisfine]

registering for new subjects in the next semester always makes me want to kill myself

[pasukiyo]

Hi! I love your work and was wondering if you could do potions teacher Tom falling is love with herbology teacher reader or just student Tom falling in love with this sunshine girl if you don't want to write them as adults/teachers. Thanks!

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 | tom riddle

potions master tom riddle x herbology teacher f!reader 2,253 words warnings: nothing but fluff notes: kind of grumpy x sunshine summary: professor riddle was notoriously blunt and took everything very seriously. he couldn’t think of one single time when he was nervous or insecure— until now.

 The Gryffindor third year trembled as Professor Riddle approached his cauldron, peering down into its contents. The Gryffindor’s eyes paced between Professor Riddle and his cauldron, suddenly insecure of his potion making skills. Professor Riddle pursed his lips together and stood straight up again, eyeing the blonde Gryffindor below him. 

 “It seems it’d do some of you well to pay attention in my class,” Professor Riddle said in a low voice, his fingers locked behind his back as he turned on the Gryffindor. A group of Slytherins in the corner of the room snickered amongst themselves as the blonde Gryffindor boy sank further into his seat in shame, his cheeks glowing a very visible shade of maroon. “Oh well,” Professor Riddle waved a hand. “Perhaps you’ll find an essay on the correct way to brew a Wideye Potion more intriguing. I expect you to turn it in by the end of the week, Walker.”

 The room was silent save for the clicking of Professor Riddle’s heels against the floor, as well as the snickering Slytherins in the corner. Professor Riddle circled around his desk and set himself down into his seat, sliding a stack of ungraded parchments before him, his quill between his thumb and forefinger. 

 “You all may be dismissed,” he said. “Do not forget to bring me  your samples of Wideye Potion before you leave. And do not forget to write your name, I’m saying this because of you, Weasley.”

 Professor Riddle peered up at his class through hooded lids as Weasley’s cheeks burned to match his hair, the group of Slytherins practically howling in laughter as they came up to his desk and placed their samples there. Professor Riddle paid them no mind as he sifted through each ungraded piece of parchment until finally, he was done grading essays, and he tossed his quill back into its ink bottle. 

 He leaned back in his seat and stared at the vials of Wideye Potion on the edge of his desk, a surge of fatigue rushing through him. Tom Riddle blinked and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, hard enough that he could see stars. He suddenly felt no desire to inspect his students’ potions, in fact, he suddenly felt no desire to do anything to do with potions at all. 

 Tom took his job seriously as he did everything, he wouldn’t dare show weakness, wouldn’t dare give Professor Dippet any reason to believe that his performance as Potions Master was less than exemplary. Tom Riddle had way too much pride in himself, but he knew he deserved better than this. 

 He knew he deserved the occupation as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. 

  He had the best marks out of any student in the class during his time at Hogwarts, which was why he simply could not understand why Professor Dippet would not give him the job. At first, it was because he was too young. And now it was because Hogwarts already had an exceptional Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Professor Lynch, and the year before that, it was Professor Huxley, and the year before Professor Flint. 

 He had jinxed the job for a reason, so why couldn’t Professor Dippet just see that he was perfect for the job?

 But he digressed.

 He needed some fresh air. 

 Tom Riddle sighed as he pushed himself out of his seat and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, slipping it on either of his shoulders as he exited the Potions classroom. As he made his way down the hallway and into the Central Hall, students left and right scattered to clear his path, staring at the school’s handsome yet fierce Potions Master as he strode towards the doors leading to the Grounds. 

 He narrowed his eyes as they adjusted to the sunlight after being stuck in his dark, dimly-lit classroom for the better half of the day, welcoming the outdoor air into his lungs. One his eyes had adjusted to the brightness, he scanned the Grounds where students roamed, some arm in arm with one another, some throwing chocolate frogs at each other, some Ravenclaw Quidditch players soared in the air, throwing a Quaffle back and forth. 

 Tom slipped his hands into his trouser pockets as he strode absentmindedly around the circular path, nodding at the students who greeted him. Tom tried to ignore his frustrations as he made a half circle around the fountain in the middle of the Grounds, letting his feet carry him wherever they pleased. 

 “Please be careful with your lacewing flies! Handle their jars with care!”

 At the sound of the voice, Tom perked his head up towards the Grounds’ entrance where a very familiar figure strode through, leading a class behind her. Tom stopped and stood in his place, watching as she led the laughing students back towards the castle, jars of lacewing flies in each of their hands. When the Herbology teacher glanced up, tucking hair behind her ear, she smiled when her eyes fell upon the Potions Master and she nodded as she walked by. 

 “Nice to see you, Professor Riddle!” She exclaimed, and Tom nodded in reply. “Nice to see you too, Professor,” he murmured as she walked off, and he watched as she disappeared inside of the castle, along with the rest of the students trailing behind her. 

 Something fluttered in his chest, something he had only just recently acknowledged as his heart. Tom wasn’t used to this, to feeling infatuated with someone else. At first, he ignored it altogether. For all of his life, he insisted that love was weakness, and that he could not love. So when his heart stuttered in his chest and the wind knocked from his lungs the first time he saw her, he dismissed it. 

 But then it kept happening. 

 Every single time he caught a glimpse of her in the halls, every time he saw her during meals, when she sat beside him during feasts, when he so much as heard her name, warmth would spread throughout his chest, engulfing his heart in flame. He couldn’t stand being around her because of it at first, even though he found himself yearning for the next glance he could sneak at her. 

 Eventually he convinced himself that this could be what love was, that he, Tom Riddle, could in fact be capable of falling in love after all. 

 He was never the same after he acknowledged how he felt. 

 He found himself growing more and more attached to her, in fact, it seemed the fact that he’d see her at breakfast was the reason he got up out of bed every morning. Whenever he felt frustrated, whether that be with the Headmaster or with his students or anything in between, his mind would turn to her, the pretty Herbology teacher who always seemed to be smiling. 

 And he’d feel content again. 

 Tom peered back over his shoulder to look at the castle entrance, and he glanced down at the time on his watch. He knew she would have a free hour next to make time for lunch, and perhaps if he left now, he could catch her before she left for the Great Hall…

 Tom circled the fountain and made haste as calmly as he could back inside the castle, pushing between the sea of students crowding the Central Hall. He strode through the hallway leading to the Greenhouses, pushing his way through the double green and gold doors, stepping inside. 

 “Do you think we’ll be able to keep the lacewing flies?” A Ravenclaw student with short brunette hair asked her friend, a tall and lanky boy with dark skin. He shook his head, “doubt it. Riddle will probably have us use them in Potions… speaking of which…”

 The two Ravenclaw students bowed their heads when they noticed the Potions Master standing by the entrance, hurrying past. Tom paid them no mind, hands in his pockets as he ventured further in the Greenhouse, nodding when students greeted him. He approached the entrance to the Herbology classroom, where over a crowd of students’ heads, he could see her, smiling and waving goodbye to her class. 

 His jaw clenched as his heart stuttered in his chest, and he cleared his throat when a Slytherin girl smiled at him. “Afternoon Professor Riddle!” She exclaimed, and he nodded in reply. “Afternoon.”

 “Professor Riddle?”

 Tom blinked and he looked up where the Herbology teacher still stood in the back of the classroom, her eyes now set on him. Her smile widened when their eyes met, and as the last of her students poured out of the classroom, she approached, hands clasped behind her back. 

 “Well, I must say, this is a nice surprise, Professor,” she chuckled and he shifted where he stood, his heart trembling when she drew near.  “So what brings you out to this part of the castle today?” She asked, blinking up at him with those sparkling eyes he often found himself thinking of. 

 Tom bit back his words. He was notorious for being rather blunt, and he certainly wasn’t afraid of saying what he wanted to say. But this was different. He feared rejection, or more accurately, he feared embarrassment. The shame he’d feel if he, Tom Riddle, were to be rejected. He simply wouldn’t be able to live with it. 

 “Was just taking a stroll,” he said, glancing towards the ground for a fleeting moment. “Oh, it’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?” She beamed. “I took my fifth years outside of the castle to find lacewing flies since the weather is so nice. I hope they’ll be of use in your class.”

 Tom found that a small lump had formed at the base of his throat, though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the fact that she thought of his class, perhaps it was the fact that she potentially could have been thinking of him. He swallowed the lump back down.

 “Yes, I appreciate it, Professor,” he replied simply, and she smiled warmly as she leaned against the doorframe of her classroom, gazing up at him. Tom looked away, suddenly feeling very hot as his heart beat harder inside of his chest, and he couldn’t help but look away. 

 She tilted her head to catch his eye again, and she cocked an eyebrow. “Is there anything else, Professor?” She asked, admittedly confused. It wasn’t often that the Potions Master took strolls to her side of the castle, nor was he one for light conversation either. She knew he must’ve come here for a reason, perhaps to ask about a student, or something similar. 

 She knew Tom Riddle took his job very seriously, in fact, it seemed to be the only thing he cared about. So she knew that this surprise visit to the Greenhouse must have been business related, but she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering. 

 What if he came here because he wanted to see her? What if he wanted to ask her out? She knew it was foolish for her to hope, but she could still dream. 

 “Yes, actually… there is,” Tom spoke finally, and she blinked back up at him, tilting her head. She didn’t say anything else, only waited patiently, as he mustered up the courage to say what he wanted to say. 

 Tom cleared his throat. 

 Her eyes sparkled under the light. 

 Her lips were curved into a soft smile. 

 This was harder than he thought. 

 “It’s… it’s a beautiful day,” he squeezed his eyes closed. He said that earlier. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t he just ask her? He’d been thinking about it all year now, and it wasn’t like him to feel so nervous. 

 It was truly frustrating. 

 Her lips twitched, but she suppressed the urge to laugh. This was a side of Tom Riddle she had never seen before— could it be that for once, he was nervous?

 “It is,” she nodded and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and glanced away, staring at the wall beside them. Perhaps he should just say it, get it over with. “It’s nice weather for a stroll around Hogsmeade.”

 Oh.

 She could feel the heat as it slithered like a snake up the back of her neck, creeping up into her ears, and searing her skin. Could it be that her dream was becoming a reality?

 Tom kept his gaze fixated on the wall beside them, and she smiled, daring to step just a little closer. “Professor Riddle,” she said warmly, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to ask me out on a date.”

 Tom blinked and he turned his head towards her, looking down on her and into those beautiful glimmering eyes he couldn’t help but admire no matter how hard he tried not to. Swiftly, he glanced down to her lips— he suddenly had the biggest urge to kiss her right now. 

 But he resisted.

 “Call it what you want,” he replied as smoothly as he could, even though he felt like he could shrivel away from the world at that moment. “But… I certainly wouldn’t mind treating you to a butterbeer or two, if you’d let me.”

 The Herbology teacher giggled and her gaze cowered to the ground, and she wiped loose strands of hair behind her ear to hopefully mask her nerves. She glimpsed back up at him, and her smile widened.  

 “How about we get some lunch in the Great Hall first?”

a/n; sorry it took me so long to post this, life got in the way! not sure how i feel about my writing here, so sorry if it feels kind of rushed! tbh writing fluff for tom was kind of a challenge since he’s not exactly the fluffiest character LMAO

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza @lyis 🥹🫶

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 1: It Starts In A Bar

summary: your friends take you out to a local pub when you would much rather be grading assignments. a/n: hello! big surprise, me writing for john price! I don't know how long this will be, but I definitely have a general idea of where I want this to go. I hope y'all like it!

thank you @lethalchiralium for dragging me into the clubhouse kicking and screaming LMAO << Previous | Next >>

Why did they pick this place again?

Ah, right. “It’s a hometown pub, a staple to the community,” they said. That was clear from the couple dozen men and women, ranging from middle-aged to elderly, scattered about, and a few younger folks peppered into the crowd. It wasn’t run down by any means, just…a dive. You mindlessly picked at the peanuts and pretzels in little bowls, elbows perched on the edge of the sticky table, for hours. You chatted and occasionally laughed at the stories they shared about their homeroom students and the shenanigans the other grades got up to. You’d been teaching year thirteen for a while, students taking their A-levels in history. 

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, spent with a stack of papers to grade, surrounded by glowing candles scattered around your apartment accompanied by soft white string lights stretched across the ceiling. Instead, your friends somehow managed to drag you out of your cozy home to a dark dive in town. You loved them dearly (really, you did), but you had a routine. Your ideal Friday night wasn’t in a damp bar.

Your kids could be challenging at times in their late teens. They occasionally cause trouble, known for getting into fights, interrupting class, or bringing drama into the classroom. Nevertheless, you’d never had a set of students that was more than you could handle. They turned their work in on time and were always nosy about your personal life, which – much to their chagrin – was uneventful. Your love life was stale, to put it nicely. And your friends tried everything in their power to set you up on dates, every single one striking out miserably. It didn’t feel natural to meet some guy at a restaurant for a blind date.

One of them talked about themselves the entire time, barely letting you get a word in. The next ordered about three more drinks than you and a meal that cost twice as much as yours but demanded you split the cost of the date. You were all for splitting the bill but on the first date? Not a good impression.

The rest were uninteresting and immemorable.

“Seriously? You haven’t been on a date since – Oh, what was his name again?”

“Zachary,” you pointed out, taking a long sip of your drink. “You should know; you set up the date.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t realize he was such a bore one-on-one.”

“Thanks for that, by the way. Loved talking to myself for two hours.”

You all laughed at the memory, starting to finish drinks and gather belongings. “Let’s get to the next spot to find you a man!”

Bar hopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you knew better than to resist. It would all be over much faster if you just went along. Your companions were much quicker on their exit, considering the nearly-full drink that you felt like you just bought, and they were already moving on to the next dig. You threw the rest of your drink back, flinching as the big gulp of alcohol burned down your throat, and hurried to catch up with them. You took one of their outstretched hands, giggling as they just about pulled you into the circle exiting the pub–

“Excuse me, miss!” a deep voice called out. You’re not sure why, but you turned, feeling like the man was calling out to you. Your assumption turned out to be correct, and a tall, dark-haired man with a beard and a soft smile approached you. “Sorry, you left this.”

He held your cardigan to you. You must have abandoned it in your haste.

“Oh! Thank you so much. That’s kind of you,” you said, taking the garment back and draping it over your forearm. “I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached,” you added, tapping your temple with a soft chuckle.

“Quite alright.” Behind you, an elbow nudged your spine; you barely caught yourself from making a face and snapping at whichever acquaintance decided to egg you on. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re heading out.”

He certainly was handsome. His beard was well-groomed, just like his hair. It looked like he went to a barber fairly recently. He even dressed well, in a cream, ribbed polo tucked loosely into his jeans. Dark chest hair peeked out where the top two buttons were undone. It was an enticing offer…

“Um, yeah, but….” You looked over your shoulder and met expectant glances. Some looked like they were about to bust apart at the seams with glee, which made you roll your eyes. Clearly, you wouldn’t be missed. “I could hang for a little while longer.”

The man's smile grew, and his stance shifted to open a path toward the bar. “Are you sure? Y’don’t have to,” he amended, his hands in his pockets. His energy was warm and soft but still masculine. He held a confidence that not many people carried, at least not the men you’d been on dates with recently. And the Liverpool accent? Maybe things were starting to look up.

“No, no, I honestly need another drink.” You flashed your teeth back to him, folding your arms over your chest with your sweater in hand.

“In that case, after you.”

Before taking his arm, you realized you’d yet to even ask for his name. “Thank you…?”

“John.” John’s right hand hovered before you and he flashed his bright teeth. His hands were clean, nails neatly trimmed. Although, one nail bed was bruised.

Man, he’s pretty for a grown man.

“Y/N,” you replied with an easy grin. He kept a steady hold on your gaze, carefully examining the bright twinkle they held. You didn’t know it, but John had just returned from a long mission. One that had left him yearning for a shower, a haircut, and somebody to come home to. He’d never had anything to look forward to and stay alive for; no affection or comfort after a rough assignment, no one to care for and spoil.

And he wanted that.

“A surname to that, John?” you asked, sliding your hand through the loop he created with his elbow. Holy shit, he was strong. Your hand rested on the soft but well-built muscle of his bicep. You figured he must have a labor-intensive job, or he goes to the gym frequently. John didn’t seem like the type to spend hours at the gym in his spare time, so you went with the first option. You’d keep that in mind when making small talk later.

“John Price.”

“Very regal name.”

John scoffed but laughed nonetheless. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

John couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were unbelievably bubbly, especially for interacting with a stranger who only gave back your forgotten cardigan. He’d been watching you from his spot at the bar, laughing with your friends but zoning out every once in a while. He was no stranger to giving himself a mental break, particularly in a hectic environment like a packed bar on a cool, Friday evening.

“I’ll call you when I need a ride!”

You and John watched the giggly group exit the pub, happily waving as they piled into a cab. You waved back with your free hand, your other palm still pressed against his warm skin. They didn’t embarrass you too badly, thank god. You met John’s eyes, a dark color twinkling with mischief.

“Your friends seem chipper.”

“I’m so sorry. They’re just happy to see me talking to a man.” 

“Oh? Is that right?” he chuckled, nodding to your previously held table. John broke away briefly to retrieve his unfinished drink and denim jacket from the bar.

You followed his lead back to the booth, attempting to keep control of the flush you felt beginning to heat your cheeks. “They’ve set me up on many an unfortunate date. Not saying I don’t get along fine on my own, but–”

“It’s rough out there?” he finished, sliding into the cushioned seat across from you. When you nodded in return, John smirked. “Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

The man sputtered, choking on what looked to be an old-fashioned. Possibly a bad joke, but it was such a great opportunity; you were feeling frisky, and you couldn’t help the giggles that erupted following his reaction. “I teach history for year thirteen.”

“Oh, thank Christ.” John wiped the cocktail off his lip with the back of his hand, shaking his head at your laughter. “You had me going there. Five minutes into our date, and I’ve made a mess of myself.”

You quirked a brow. “So this is a date?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I would consider it light conversation. Getting to know each other.”

“That’s a date.”

“Mmm, I’d say it’s more casual than that.”

“I’m not looking for casual, love.”

You paused, examining his calm demeanor. He didn’t seem cocky, but honest, a welcome change to the pattern you’d observed over the last few months. None of your dates had been so bold as to know what they want and make their intentions clear. Especially not so quickly. It was refreshing.

“Me neither.”

“Good.”

You both sat in peace, pausing your conversation for the waitress. You ordered another drink, as promised, and folded your hands on the tabletop, fingers laced. “So, what do you do, John?” you asked, tapping your thumbs together.

“I’m in the military.”

You paused, expectantly waiting for him to continue, only to be met with silence.

“Care to elaborate?”

He tutted once with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

Interesting. Normally, resistance like that would be a red flag. On the other hand, his job could be “classified” or whatever is said in the movies. No alarms went off in your mind; your intuition told you that John was trustworthy, so you let it go. The pretty brunette dropped your new drink off and another for John.

“I can tell you that I’m a Captain.”

“So you have pretend kids too?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. A slight tinge of the citrus notes from the expressed orange peel wafted across the table. John’s laugh was distinctive, chesty and rumbly, inviting. “Of course. Mine are bigger, though, I’m sure.”

“Oh? They’re not scrawny little soldiers?”

“No. One’s almost two meters tall.”

“Jesus. How many?”

“Five. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet them.”

“Likewise.”

You fussed with your hair for about the thousandth time in your bathroom mirror and huffed when it wouldn’t settle right. John was to meet you in about fifteen minutes. Knowing him, that meant he would be buzzing up to your apartment any second. You’d been on a few dates and knew his date habits pretty well. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late. You had been out to dinner, grabbed coffee once or twice; you even grabbed an ice cream. So, it was a surprise when John suggested a trip to the museum. It didn’t seem like his thing, but you weren’t about to turn down a trip to the history exhibit.

As you expected, a familiar BZZT BZZT reverberated through your flat, signaling his arrival. The first time he picked you up, you let him into the building without using the intercom. You tried explaining that the speaker broke and your landlord had yet to fix it (shocker), but John wouldn’t hear it. You could have been letting in a random creep pressing buttons until some tenant unlocked the door. He insisted on creating a little system, so you would know it was him downstairs and not a kidnapper. From then on, he always rang the bell twice.

You gave up on your hair, switched the light off, and paged him in. Your unit was on the first floor (which wasn’t ideal), so it only took John a few seconds to reach your door. When you heard a knock at your door, you peered through the peephole (as promised) before unlocking the deadbolt, revealing a very well-dressed captain. John’s hair was a bit shaggy, but it suited him well. Your heart fluttered helplessly at the bright smile that appeared when he laid eyes on you, his gaze obviously taking in the sight before him.

It was a weeknight, and you didn’t have time to change between school and your usual errands. You threw a plaid skirt, thigh-high socks, and loose sweater together; just a sliver of skin showed between the top of your socks and hem of your skirt. You felt underdressed compared to John, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. 

“Hi,” he said, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Same to you. You always clean up well.”

“If you saw the state I’m usually in at work – you’d understand why.”

John kept a watchful eye to make sure you turned both locks for your door before guiding you outside to a waiting taxi with a hand on the small of your back. He held the door to your building and the car open for you. The drive was short, but the weather was starting to catch a bit of a chill, and you didn’t want to walk too far.

Ever the gentleman, the captain followed closely behind you up the steps to the gallery. Even if he weren’t perceptive, with years of experience reading people, he could tell you were excited to be there; however, he wasn’t so experienced in the ‘romance’ department. John honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he visited any museum, let alone a dedicated history exhibition. But when he suggested it and assured you that he would have a good time, he was only being partially truthful. Secretly, the man just wanted an excuse to listen to you talk. What better place to bring you than an exhibit where he knew you would talk his ear off for hours?

You slowly worked your way through each exhibit, explaining some pieces you recognized and their significance to the period; at displays you weren’t familiar with, you both quietly hovered closer to the title cards, reading through the description. While that kind of date wasn’t John’s usual cup of tea, he was glad he planned it; it helped him figure out how to slow the fuck down and try to be normal outside of a military setting or a pub.

His breath nearly stuttered every time you laid a gentle hand on his arm and drew his attention to the next section, beaming as you animately but quietly pointed out the tiny details in a Renaissance painting hung on the wall. The man couldn’t help but stare at how your lips curved at every syllable, wide eyes glued on the intricate scene portrayed. John hadn’t spoken much so far aside from the occasional affirmation that he was listening; he was very much in his head, unsure if you were excited to be there with him or just excited to be there. But, standing in front of the big painting, you went quiet. You met his gaze, and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin, which you returned before you both shifted back to the artwork. It was peaceful, absorbing the atmosphere and just existing together. Suddenly, John was jolted out of his reverie by the feeling of something brushing the side of his palm. 

You were itching to hold his hand all night but were too nervous to take that leap. What if he rejected you? That wasn’t likely after so many dates, but still. Your nerves got the better of you for the better half of the self-guided tour. Regardless, you had managed to work up the courage, cautiously grazing your pinky against his wrist and hand before wrapping it around his. You didn’t look away from the illustration, but he did, moving to you, then down to your hands.

He simply stared for a moment, surprised but positively giddy at the same time. Surely enough, John took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning just a bit closer to you. He could stand there forever, basking in your warmth and energy, the sound of your voice sinking into his every thought–

“Oh no,” you said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him worried, wrinkles forming between your brows. “I-I’m sorry. I was teaching again.”

He immediately gave you a reassuring squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk.” Jesus, did he have a way with words. He liked hearing you talk? With that accent, he could spew nonsense, and it would still draw you in. But hearing John Price give you compliments and praise? Flattery? You were a goner. “Tell me more about the next one?”

As if he could get any more fucking perfect.

“Okay.”

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

The Broken Veil: Chapter 6 - The Horde

TW: blood and gore, gunshot wounds, shock

Summary: John Wick has just agreed to kill Gianna D'Antonio, repaying the marker that gave him a life with Helen. However, Helen is trying to contact John from the afterlife, to show him that it is possible to stop the cycle of violence – not by forfeiting his own life, but by creating a fundamental shift in international systems and perhaps even the balance of good and evil in this world. But he doesn’t have to do it alone. She’s coming back.

“It’s a rough journey, and a sad heart to travel it; and we must pass by Gimmerton Kirk to go that journey! We’ve braved its ghosts often together, and dared each other to stand among the graves and ask them to come. But, Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I’ll keep you.” - Catherine Earnshaw, Wuthering Heights

Helen always liked to people watch in New York, on the subway, through coffee shop windows, dancing with strangers to the songs of street buskers. So many characters, ripe for conversations and candid photography. Artists. Students. Performers. Families. Runaways. Petty criminals. And apparently, hitmen.

As they exit the airport, a red light and nothing more holds back the horde behind the white bars of a crosswalk, as sunset flares low and catches in the dark pools of John Wick’s eyes. He stares forward, feet planted, still holding her hand. He squeezes it once and lets go. “I need you to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

“When we’re walking, stay at a distance. Don’t step in unless I call for you. I know when I’m about to die. If I’m not dying, don’t stand in my line of fire, don’t touch me, don’t do anything that will affect my range of motion. You can block headshots from behind me, but that’s it.”

“Or else I’ll get in your way.”

“I wasn’t going to put it like that, but…Yeah. You’ll get in my way.”

She’s grinning, not remotely offended. “I don’t doubt it. You have yourself a deal, baby.” Then very seriously, “I’m trusting you to call for me."

He nods. She feels his focus shift, shutting out all thought beyond survival.

Come at me, come at me.

He’s electric. The light turns green, and she’s walking at the devil’s side.

They planned the route in the air. He needs to get to someone who will know where to find Santino. That means reaching a subway station on the other side of the city, where they will find a particular contact. “He’ll be talking about ‘Things you see,’ that’s the code phrase,” John told her. It’s a short walk among neon lights and hole-in-the-wall storefronts to the nearest underground entrance. When he told her that, Helen thought it sounded very promising – how many assassins could they possibly encounter in such a brief journey? But he didn’t seem to think so.

As they move through the crowd silently, Helen thinks of the self-defense class she took in college. It’s been many years since then, and she wasn’t top of the class to begin with. She’s unarmed, with no real martial arts experience. So the best she can do is hang back several paces behind him and look wherever he isn’t looking. It makes her paranoid. Is that teenager reaching into his bag about to pull out a gun? No, it’s a notebook. Is that woman staring at John because she’s about to strike, or because he’s breathtaking? Obviously the latter.

The first time it really happens, she doesn’t see it coming at all. A man with the body of a sumo wrestler and a pistol in his hand stops walking at just the right moment to fling an arm out in front of John and knock him expertly to the ground. She’s suddenly hyperaware of the smoggy night wind and the texture of the sidewalk underfoot, her body primed to do something, anything, but that isn’t what he wants so she just stumbles forward, then backward, then freezes. He’s already up and striking back, already has him disarmed, but the man takes damage like a tank. They seem evenly matched for a moment, then everything suddenly escalates. Glass shatters as John is thrown through a bus stop divider. She feels dozens of tiny cuts slash across his face, his back hitting concrete. The retaliation is swift. John grabs the man’s gun and wrestles it against his head, leaving him bleeding out on the ground, a final shot leveling him as he tries to rise.

“Jesus Christ!” They’re in the middle of the sidewalk. There was a silencer, but why is no one stopping, why is no one noticing? Some people have fled, but the police on the far corner just watch quietly. Oh. John’s world owns them too. Great.

He looks back at her, reads her concern, and smiles encouragingly. “I’m okay.” It takes all her restraint to avoid stepping up to him to check his cuts for fragments of glass, but he motions them onwards.

Down an escalator, into the station. The next one, she does see. A woman playing violin for tips follows him with her eyes as they pass, and Helen sees her pull a gun from some concealed place inside it. John is several paces out in front of her and not looking back. Helen steps between them, and the shot hits her own chest. John’s rage and her own surge through her at the same time as he looks over his shoulder and sees them staring each other down.

Then he's rushing her. The woman starts firing, trying to take him down before it’s too late, but hits nothing except Helen and his body armor, and why couldn’t he have stayed back, just stay back… Panic. The woman is kicking him and striking him, and Helen sees before he does that his bulletproof jacket is lifted when he raises his arms, exposing the soft underbelly of the beast where nothing but a paper-thin dress shirt separates his flesh from the bullets. The nose of the gun presses straight into his torso and fires.

 Helen screams, not the high-pitched horror flick scream that one might expect to emit when seeing a lover shot, but an echo of his own yelp of pain, mixed with something impotently enraged. A roar, directed at the woman who just shot her husband. The same cry she sent out helplessly in the void as she watched him fight, unable to come to his aid. And she dragged herself so far, came back to him, but here she is still unable to come to his aid. Why...

The woman is already on the floor, her limbs and neck snapped. John is doubled over, clutching his abdomen, but he doesn’t stop moving.

She follows him as he stumbles against the wall and around a corner, supporting himself against the sleek, glowing glass of the station’s modern architecture. He’s silhouetted on white and leaving long, horrific red smears in his wake. He’s keeping pressure on the wound with one hand at any given time but trying to stem the bleeding is an utterly futile endeavor. Helen steps out in front of him to see red blooming across the fabric and soaking his fingers. He dares to look down at himself. She can feel wooziness pass over him at the sight.

Desperately, “Jonathan. May I please help you walk?”

“No. It’s not over.” He staggers away from the wall, demonstrating that he can support his own weight.

She drops back behind him again, her eyes pricked with tears, walking close enough now to catch him if he falls.

He was right, it’s not over. Someone’s tailing them, keeps looking at John and then back at his phone, presumably texting someone else. Before she realizes what’s happening, they’re closed in between two men, both well dressed, one walking behind them and one in front of the rest area at a coffee bar. John spots the one at the bar and lunges for him. Good, now there’s distance between him and the man behind them, and Helen occupies it.

The man notices her blocking his path and starts shooting. She turns to face him. Behind her, she can hear and feel the scuffle as John’s assailant grabs at the bullet wound to try to inflict as much pain as possible, but he’s only sending more and more adrenaline into John’s system.

She doesn’t really know what to do when she reaches the other hitman. She swings at him in a general way but feels her forearm immediately intercepted, and she’s flung to the ground with his knee over her neck. He’s trying to snap it and unable to figure out why it’s not working. Her face is pressed against grimy subway tile. It’s not clear how she was flipped, or how she could stop it next time. It doesn’t matter. He thinks he’s killing her, and that will keep him distracted from his target.

She looks up at John, just in time to see him grab a pencil from the coffee bar where the man sat writing just a few minutes ago. He plunges it into the man’s hand and then his face, then shoves his head against the table and drives it through. He’s showing off for her.

And then he sees her pinned and he’s done showing off. He yanks the man off her back, slams him to the wall, and stabs the pencil directly through the back of his skull.

For a second, he’s leaning against the wall, the pencil a bloody stump in his hand, then he pulls her up and they’re off again.

They walk. A subway ride, a transfer. Across a crowded fountain square, the moonless, starless city sky gaping black above them, every eye seeming to follow them. He’s tired and scared. He’s lost so much blood. God, she wants to hold him.

Waiting at the next platform, they’re attacked again. In the empty corridor of wind between two passing trains, he shoots one man and knifes the other, first with a shocking spray of red from the thigh and then on the tile, wrestling with him, pressing fiercely down into his chest and then collapsing on top of him for a moment. She almost reaches for him, but he manages to stand, and they board the train in silence.

She faces him, each of them holding onto the bar above them, pressed in among strangers, and stares into his eyes. Her free hand hovers at his torso, almost touching the blood but holding back in respect of his request – “don’t touch me.” His jaw is clenched, trying not to express the pain to her. Now that he doesn’t have a fight to focus on, there’s something icy and empty surfacing. He’s going into shock.

He realizes something. “Can you feel my body too? All the time? Or just emotions?”

This is a bad time for this conversation. “…Not all the time, just when it’s significant enough. And I’m not hurt. It’s not like that. It’s secondhand.”

He groans wordlessly, overtaken by a wave of guilt that mingles with the shock to make everything fuzzy. He’s shuddering. It’s suddenly so cold and there’s so little blood in his head…The more he fights against it in an effort to save Helen from this feeling, the more his anxiety spikes dizzyingly. He wants to lay down somewhere soft and just die.

“Hey. It’s not a bad thing. You felt me, remember? When we were… So, yes, I do have an awareness of it. But it’s like I told you then, I want all of you. Even the pain. It’s okay.”

Any affection at a moment like this is overwhelming. He’s lost in her acceptance, awed, humbled, just trying not to cry. He lets his awareness of his body recede, his legs go numb. There is no subway around them. There’s only her…and a misty void. He can see it again. He’s close to the other side, and she bridges a gap through which he can see…something.

The subway stops. He still can’t feel his legs.

His voice comes to her soft and strangled, but very controlled. “Helen…Help me.”

Finally. She weaves her arm through his, clasps their hands together, and takes his weight as they move carefully over the gap between the doors and the platform, towards the turnstiles.

But it’s difficult to make out their surroundings. As his precarious condition drags them closer to the veil, things bleed through, the otherworld blurring on top of life. And all around them, there are presences. They aren’t so close to the surface. They don’t have the determination she had. But there’s an opening, and they draw as near as they can, fixed on him. John’s knuckles are white and clammy between her fingers.

Is that a ticket machine, or just a shadow, an absence?

Is that a hitman disguised as a janitor pulling a gun, or is it Viggo’s soul?

Is that the crowd of the night shift commuters, or is it the horde that has already tried and failed to kill the Baba Yaga?

Either way, they are hunted.

Adrenaline hits again and the void recedes. There is a janitor pulling a gun – in fact, there are two. She and John are running, hand in hand.

She’s keeping him upright, following his lead, and he loses their assailants long enough to round a corner into a particularly dingy stretch of the thoroughfare, where a panhandler’s babbling echoes across the concrete and iron. He leans against a metal divider, his possessions heaped up next to him, no different from the down-on-their-luck people to be found in every subway station of every city in the world. But she recognizes the code phrase. “Things you see, things you see at night, man…” He’s saying it over and over. She staggers towards him as a beacon of safety, taking John with her.

He still has enough strength to let a gold coin fall into in the man’s cup. The babbling goes silent, and he’s looking up at them. For a second, Helen is afraid they have the wrong person, or that John is going to pass out before he’s able to explain what they need. Finally, he grunts, “Take us to him. Tell him it’s John Wick…and his wife.”

Then he drops to the ground next to that heaped up pile of belongings, and drags one of the blankets over himself. Helen knows it’s purely to hide his body from view, but the sheer vulnerability of the gesture sends her reeling with protectiveness. Clearly, he needed it. He is so grateful to be laying down, to have something shielding his body from the air that feels so inexplicably frigid. It will not do at all for him to be face down on the cold floor. She kneels beside him, pulling his head into her lap, and drags a second blanket over them both. It creates a warm pocket of dulled sound, filled up with his shallow breathing. He shivers against her as shock claims him completely. In darkness, in that hidden fragment of safety, she bends forward, wrapping his whole head in her bulletproof body, enveloping him in a comforting shield. Is that the haunted otherworld around them, or the bustle of the living? It makes no difference. She will defend him either way.

[taestefully-in-luv]

I know your requests are closed but in case you reopening them, can you do Taehyung + #11 from Part I prompts pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺

Prompt: “Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex

A/N: This request was supposed to be one of the lasts but I got inspired for this prompt hehe so enjoy! Sorry it’s a little longer than the others!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung drops his suitcase to the floor, exhaling a deep, frustrated breath as he eyes the room.

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?” he huffs out, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. “I already have to go on this fucking trip with you, then we have to share a room…and now there is only one fucking bed. Of course.” He complains with a dark expression with a harsh blush on his cheeks. You don’t notice though.

You feel your own anger bubble over but you decide to laugh. Yes, you laugh because this whole situation is one cruel joke from the universe. This earns a look of disapproval from Taehyung. He shakes his head at you as you continue to chuckle, you not totally or completely caring about his judgements. You would be in this complete shit show with none other than Kim Taehyung. Your nemesis.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He states and you give him a pointed look.

“What couch? Taehyung look at this piece of shit room. We only have the bed and a chair.” You point out knowingly, “You can sleep on the floor though.”

“Like hell I am sleeping on the god damn floor.” He is pissed you would even suggest such a thing. “I’ll sleep on one end and you on the other.”

“Afraid I have cooties?” you ask with a smirk and he rolls his eyes at you, quite hard.

“Something like that.” He spits out, grabbing his suit case off the floor and setting it on the bed. “I’ll shower first.” He unzips his luggage and pulls out some of his belongings.

“Fine.”

You and Taehyung have been working together post college, you knew him in university though…quite well. You two were always in ongoing competitions in your classes—and you shared a lot of classes. You and he never quite got along, you two always finding something to argue about instead.

Then you both happened to apply to the same job and both got accepted…only furthering your ongoing competition of one upping another. You try to stay out of his hair though…you are aware you two don’t get along well….too much tension. And you are an adult now with an adult job that you take seriously, so you try to avoid Taehyung.

Unfortunately, your boss paired you two together for an overnight trip, and your company didn’t have the budget for two rooms—just the one. Taehyung offered to pay for another room but apparently the hotel only has the one, so here you two are with one room and one bed.

You place your own luggage on the bed and begin taking out your bed time clothes, your shampoo, your conditioner and your body wash. It’s been like, 30 minutes and he still in the bathroom. You sit on the bed and wait patiently, scrolling through your phone and mindlessly watching YouTube videos when finally Taehyung exits the bathroom.

You don’t even look at him as you stand from the bed with your things, you turn to head towards the bathroom, walking through the small room. Really your company couldn’t do better than this?

“There better be hot water, Taehyung.” You throw the comment over your shoulder and you hear Taehyung snicker from behind you.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

You force yourself to take a nice, deep breath trying to calm your nerves. Kim Taehyung is always trying to get on them any way he can. While you try to ignore him, he always makes his presence known.

“You’re such a child. I feel bad for you girlfriend.” You close the bathroom door with a little bit of force.

Your shower was…not freezing, at least. But you prefer it a bit on the warmer side. You clean the fogged up mirror with a towel and take a good look at yourself. You look tired, just plain tired. You dry off completely and slip on your panties and a bralette, they’re cute and comfortable.

You’re about to pull your t shirt over when you catch something in the corner of your eye. A mother fucking roach. You feel your whole body crawling with them as you stare at the one bug. You yelp out, throwing your t shirt over the bug…this causes Taehyung to rush to the bathroom door and ask what’s wrong over and over.

“y/n??? Hey, you okay???” his panicked voice goes unnoticed by you as you back into the bathroom door. “Unlock the door!” he begins rattling the doorknob, trying to get it open.

You finally notice the door shaking, and his stressed voice on the other side. Without thinking you hurry to unlock the door and open it. Taehyung’s eyes expand at least 4 times their size as he eyes you. You’re basically naked!

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Taehyung stutters as he speaks, his eyes raking your half naked body.

“Roach! Roach!” you yell, pointing at the direction of your t shirt. “He’s there! He’s under my shirt!!!” you can’t help but walk impossibly close to Taehyung, grabbing a hold of his bicep with one arm while your other points down across the bathroom.

Taehyung feels himself freeze under your touch, your small hand trying to wrap itself around his arm. He tries to pull himself together though, slowly pulling your hand away from him.

“It’s under your shirt?” he asks quietly. “Why the fuck would you throw your shirt over it?” He can’t help the amused smile that paints itself on his face.

Taehyung walks towards the shirt and slowly lifts it up, his eyebrows begin climbing to the top of his forehead as he notices no sign of any roach.

“Uh oh.” He says calmly.

“Uh oh, what?” You walk closer to him, staying behind him as your arms go to grab both of his arms. “What?” You whine.

“It’s gone.” He says, then he shakes the T shirt around, but no bug falls out. Then he’s turning around to face you and his face goes unbelievably red.

“Here, put this one.” He throws the shirt at you and you jump back, your face gone pale.

“As if I am wearing that now!” you say as your voice cracks. You pinch your brows together as you think of what to do. “I don’t have any other shirts…” you pout and Taehyung looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Just wear the god damn shirt, y/n.”

“No….” you frown at him and he almost feels bad for you. “I don’t want to sleep with the shirt a bug just touched.

“You are so ridiculous.” He scoffs, “I have an extra t shirt…although I don’t know which shirt you would avoid mo—”

“I’ll take the shirt!” you cut him off with an excited smile and he raises a brow at you.

“Really?” he walks past you in the bathroom, his shoulder bumping yours and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Well…it’s almost on the same level as the bug shirt but yeah, I’ll take it,” you lightly tease.

“Fine. But also can you please, I mean, please put some pants on…” Taehyung walks into the room, takes out his luggage and pulls out an extra shirt. You follow him in the room and catch the shirt when he throws it over to you.

“Thanks…” You mumble. You begin to pull it over your head, sniffing it as you do so. It smells like him. Something soft, yet deep. A scent you can’t find anywhere else.

“Let’s just try to sleep now.” Taehyung pulls back the covers and slips inside the bed. You on the other hand look at him like he is crazy.

“You think I can fall asleep with a roach on the loose?” you whisper shout, like as if the bug might hear you.

“You’ll have to try.” He mumbles lamely.

You huff out a short puff of air as you walk closer to the bed. Fine, you will try to fucking sleep. You pull back your side of the covers and get into the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket close to your face. You turn on your side, your back facing Taehyung and hide your nose and chin inside the t shirt. You feel yourself getting lost in its scent.

Maybe 20 minutes or so passes when you notice how restless Taehyung is…he keeps moving around, sighing out and lightly groaning. You are having a hard time falling asleep too but jeez, he is fucking dramatic. You decide to make conversation even though he will probably tell you to fuck off.

“Thanks for saving me earlier.” You whisper, turning yourself to lay on your other side, facing Taehyung.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He says instead of ‘you’re welcome’.

“What?”

“Earlier you said you feel bad for my girlfriend.” He turns on his side to face you, “But I don’t have one? So, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Aren’t you dating that girl you are always with? You guys are always at the coffee maker, giggling and shit.”

“Wait…Pauline?” he starts chuckling. “She’s cool. We have a lot in common…like, girls.” He continues to laugh as you get the hint.

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at the ceiling. “Well, even if it’s not her, I’m sure you have someone.”

“Why are you so concerned with my dating life?” Taehyung scoots a little closer to you. “You hate me. So why do you care?”

“You are the one who hates me. Not the other way around.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you before he starts shaking his head over and over. He slowly closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“No. You hate me.” He says matter of fact. “I don’t hate you.”

“You so do hate me!”

“Well, I only hate you because you hate me!”

“But I don’t hate you!” You begin to sit up in bed, the blankets falling down your body. “You are annoying, yes. But I don’t hate you.”

Taehyung sits up in bed as well, he crosses his arms over his chest and exhales a deep breath.

“So you don’t hate me? I don’t hate you? Then why are we always fighting?”

“I don’t know, we have been fighting since college…I don’t know what else to do with all this energy I have for you.” You admit.

“Energy?” Taehyung tilts his head, “You mean, the tension?”

“Yeah.” You gulp. “The tension. This tension means we fight, right?”

“Well, what else could it mean?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you sit here…you know exactly what I could mean but you aren’t about to admit that right now. Taehyung has to know too, right? He isn’t that dumb is he?

“y/n…” he says your name differently than he has ever said it…like as if he had practiced to say it that way and he finally got to say it out loud. The softness in his voice is mesmerizing, his usual bite gone altogether.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss—”

“Yes.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at how quickly you respond, his mouths fall open and his heart starts racing. He really though you hated him…he really thought he had no chance…he really thought that hating you back was the only way for you two to have any sort of relationship.

“Be honest with me.” He begins, scooting even closer to you. “Have you thought about me before? Kissing you?...Touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how it started.” He grows warmer just talking to you like this. “Please.” His deep voice somehow goes lower with every word he speaks to you.

“Back in college…” You gulp, “You and I had a group presentation…I wanted to be in charge. But you kept talking over me—”

“Sorry…”

“I went home that night so angry, that the only thing that could calm me was to touch myself. And your stupid face is all I could think of.”

“Was that the only time you touched yourself thinking about me?” Taehyung’s hand crawls up your arm, until his hand is at your jaw.

“No.” you admit, your breathing becomes unsteady. “That was just the first.”

Taehyung’s thumb brushes against your cheek and you feel yourself grow impatient. You want him to kiss you. You want him to touch you. Years and years of pent up frustrations—

“When was the last time—”

“Shower.” You rush to say. “My mind was going crazy at the thought of sharing a bed with you.”

Taehyung smirks at you, his long fingers still at your jaw, he tightens his hold and he begins leaning into your space.

“Do you want me y/n?”

You feel your entire body shiver, you feel goosebumps rise on your skin and you feel the heat creep all over your body.

“Yes Taehyung.”

His lips crash into yours, they move against you with rushed desperation. Your hands immediately go to his hair, tugging on the strands, somehow pulling him even closer to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your poor, weak body as his hands explore you. They start at your jaw but are soon traveling down your body. He cups your breasts in his hands, you groan when he squeezes them. Then you feel his fingertips graze down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Can we take these off?” Taehyung asks between kisses. “Please.”

“But you practically begged for me to put them on earlier.” You smirk as you kiss him back with passion.

“And I’ll beg for you to take them off.” He smiles in your kiss and you can’t help but roll your hips to his little idea.

“C’mere.” He guides you by the hips to straddle his lap. Your legs on either side of his as you start moving your hips back and forth, you can feel his member growing beneath you with every roll of your hips.

“Take it out on me.” He says between his erratic breaths. “How angry I have made you. I want you to take it out on me.”

“Okay.” You agree easily, your hand going to his throat. You squeeze lightly as you start riding his clothed dick. You grind into him, hard and fast. He meets you half way, thrusting up, his hard member rubbing against your clit so deliciously.

You look down at him, your eyes meeting his when he smirks at you. God, he looks so good like this. He’s totally fucked out, sweat dribbling down the side of his forehead, his tongue continuously darting out to wet to puffy lips.

“I need you.” You pant out, “Right now.”

Taehyung nods his head in understanding. He stops his hips from moving, lifts you up slightly as you both work on dragging his shorts and briefs down. His cock bounces off his lower abdomen in freedom, his swollen member leaking with precum. You rush to take your shorts and panties off and go back to his lap.

“Condom?” He asks, out of breath.

“Are you clean? I’m on birth control…plus, I’m clean.” You say quickly, the anticipation killing you.

“Yes, I’m all good.” He grabs his cock in his hand and starts pumping himself. “Now, please.” He whines.

You nod, hovering over his length, replacing his hand with yours as you take a deep breath before you are sinking down onto it. You whimper at the feeling since he is so big. He’s long, he’s thick and he is destroying you just by entering you.

“You okay?” His hand goes to cup your jaw and you try to nod your head. “Take your time.”

“You’re so fucking big…” you sink lower and lower, his cock filling you to the brim. “But it feels so good.” You say between rough breaths.

“You feel incredible, y/n….” his hands goes to your hips and he begins to help raise you up, you lift yourself off his length and slam back down. You are finally getting adjusted to his size that you’re able to rise and fall on his cock over and over.

Taehyung’s hands go to your ass cheeks, he squeezes them as he helps you rise and sink on his cock, your thighs burning as you ride him faster and faster. Your hand finds its way back to his throat and you push him back on the bed. He lays down as you ride him, his moans and your moans filling in the small space of the room.

“Fuck…so tight.” He slams his eyes shut as you make him feel so fucking good. “y/n…y/n…” He starts chanting your name.

“Help me…” you fall forward, your chest hovering over his as you start kissing him. Your tongue pushes past his lips and he tangles his tongue with yours immediately. Taehyung begins thrusting forward from beneath you. He fucks into you so hard and so fast that your vision starts to blur. He is hitting your spot with every brush of his dick and it just intensifies when you feel his fingers on your clit.

“I’m gonna come Taehyung…” you warn him, your erratic breathing hitting his face. “So fucking close…please don’t stop.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you, he fucks you harder now. The sounds of his skin slapping your skin making this sound all the more filthy. He moans over and over because he is also so close.

“Where should I come?” He pants out, “Tell me now!” his body begins to tense as you reach back and fondle his balls. “Oh fuck!!” he screams, “y/n! y/n!”

“Inside me.” You lean down and kiss the side of his neck.

Taehyung thrusts so fucking quickly before he is stilling his desperate hips and shooting his cum inside you. His eyes shoot open as he comes, his body wanting to give out on him but he endures. He squeezes his eyes shut as he starts fucking you harder again, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves. Your high pitched moans making Taehyung feel high as fuck. You finally yell out, whimpering in his ear as you come undone all over his cock, creaming it and soaking it. You feel your orgasm hit you so fucking hard that you collapse on top of Taehyung’s body. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, your sweaty bodies mingling together.

“Wow.” You say, out of breath.

“Yeah, wow.”

Taehyung slowly slips his softening member out of you and winces, the feeling alone so overwhelming. He rolls your bodies over until you are both on your sides facing one another, he smiles at you and you feel yourself go shy.

“Just to be clear…you don’t hate me, right?” You ask.

“Does it look like I hate you?” he teases, reaching out and putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think we have a lot of years to make up for.”

“I don’t want this to be just about sex.” You say quietly. Taehyung’s eyes go wide at your words before he is smiling for you again.

“That wasn’t my intention.” He admits, “Maybe a date first?”

“Or a few.” You joke.

“We have years to make up for y/n, so it’ll be more than just a few dates.” He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“Are you still going to be annoying at work?” you stick your tongue out, Taehyung rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“It’s just healthy competition” he leans forward and kisses your lips this time. “And if I make you mad you can always just…take it out on me…” another kiss.

“You should make me mad more often then.”

"You mean even more mad?" He laughs.

"Yes."

[okaywa]

*Kiss Me Sweetly

Tendou x f!reader 

Angst with a happy ending, excessive fluff, friends to lovers, smut, dry humping 

4.4k words

The demon of Shiratorizawa had crimson hair and eyes to match. He was tall, composed of long limbs and sharp angles. His eyes were perpetually half-lidded and droopy with dark bags. He had a crooked smile made up of pointed teeth and a silver tongue that frequently got him in trouble with the school staff and students alike. 

He wasn’t actually a demon, a nickname branded to him by cruel children in elementary school. He wasn’t a monster either, despite popular belief. Although he had learned to embraced his title as the Guess Monster, even learned to love the respect that came with it from his opponents. In the end, however, Tendou Satori was just tired. Tired of the people at this school, tired of the nicknames that stalked him though the halls, and tired of you.

You, who never stooped to your peers level with half-brained insults and nicknames. You, who had smiled and said hello every time you saw him since elementary. You, who encouraged him to pursue volleyball, the only thing he felt powerful doing. You, who sat through his seemingly endless chatter with an interested smile. You, you, you and your kind smiles, soft words, and gentle curves. 

It wasn’t until high school that you started sitting with him at lunch. Eventually lunch transitioned into getting coffee every Monday after school. Then the coffee hangouts progressed to going to your house and reading the latest manga he was interested in every Friday. 

Each moment with you was a breath held in anticipation for the other shoe to finally drop. When were you just going to get it all over with and stop acting like you cared about him? Enough of the pity, please. No more shared lunches. Stop giving him your notes when he fell asleep in class. He was exhausted for you. 

Sometimes he let himself believe you. That you actually cared for him and enjoyed being around him. He convinced himself that your laughter was genuine when he teased you and made sardonic jokes about the world. He could go months relishing in your friendship before remembering it wasn’t real. 

Being around him certainly didn’t benefit you. He had heard plenty of the rumors and he know you did as well. 

I heard that he’s so controlling she’s too scared to actually leave him. 

We aren’t even together, he thought viciously.

Well, I heard that she only puts up with him because she feels bad. Seriously, who actually wants to hang around that freak . 

He wanted to scream that he knew. He knew you pitied him. He wanted you to leave but you never got the goddamn hint. You stuck by his side all through high school and now it was the last day and you were still here. Sitting next to him, sharing his earbuds. You could’ve walked home ages ago, but you were adamant about waiting at the train station until he got picked up.

“You can stop now,” he said, setting you free. 

“Hm?” You looked up from your phone. “Oh, do you want to play your music?”

“No, you can leave,” he snapped. “No one is looking at you anymore; no one cares. You don’t have to be here with me.”

“Tendu-chan, I don’t understand,” your pretty lips were turned down in a frown. 

“I don’t need you,” he lied. “You don’t have to be here to make me feel better. It’s over, we move on now and we forget about it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was soft, confused. 

“I don’t need your pity,” he said, finally getting the words off his chest after all these years. “I know you only stuck around because you felt bad for me. But I don’t need it anymore, high school is over. I don’t need you to hang out with me because you feel bad.”

His eyes were closed, and he relished in the peace of finally, finally spitting it out. 

“Is that what you think?” 

His eyes snapped open. You were angry? You should be happy. Happy you finally have an excuse to get away. A clear exit.

“Fuck you, Tendou,” you stood up, throwing his headphones at his chest. “That’s what you really think of me? That I just pity you? You think I’m so shallow that I hung around you to make myself feel better? Is that what you think?”

You stopped, sucking in a steadying breath while he stared up at you in shock. Yes, that’s exactly what he had thought. 

“I-” 

“No,” you cut him off swiftly. “You’ve said enough. I’m leaving. You can talk to me when you get your head out of your ass.” 

Tendou watched you walk away until you disappeared around a corner. He had been wrong? But he almost always guessed right… right?

Had he really been so consumed by his self-loathing that he had misread the intentions of the one person who cared the most for him? 

“Oh,” he let his head fall back against the bench and stared at the bright sky until his eyes watered. 

Not many had witnessed it, but the demon of Shiratorizawa was indeed just a person. A person with emotions, as disguised as they may be. He hid behind this personality he’d crafted. The carefree, loud, perpetually cheerful demeanor that protected him from his peers and their wicked words. It had never protected him from you though. You saw through it as if it were glass, just a window to his misery. 

“Oh,” he said again, standing up slowly. “I see now.” 

He boarded the train and rested his forehead against the window, watching dark storm clouds creep over the city with the silence of a cat stalking its prey. 

How fitting, for it to rain, he thought as the first drops splattered against the window. 

—-

After three sharp knocks on your door, Tendou stepped back and held his peace offering close to his chest. He knew you were home because your rust bucket of a Toyota was parked in the driveway. His fingers tapped the plastic bag impatiently and it was nearly impossible to ignore the way his heart jumped when the door cracked open slowly.

“Ah, I see you’ve managed to pull your head free. Was it difficult?” You asked flatly, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

“Immensely, took Wakatoshi three bottles of lube,” he said earnestly. 

You cracked a small smile, eyes flitting to the plastic bag in his arms. You raised an eyebrow as a silent question. 

“Can I come in?” He asked. “It’s awfully cold out here, you don’t want me to catch a cold now, eh Y/n-chan?”

“Maybe I do,” you said, stepping aside to let him in. 

“How cruel of you!” Tendou gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned offense. 

He stepped into your entrance way and you were quickly reminded just how tall he was. His lankiness only made him look taller as he loomed over you, eyebrows drawn together in determination. You stared back, suddenly nervous in the presence of your friend.

“I’m sorry for misjudging you,” he said, intense red eyes still locked on yours. “It was wrong and unfair of me to make such harsh assumptions.” 

You weren’t used to him being this serious. He was always intense but the two combined were overwhelming. 

“Let’s sit down and eat whatever you’ve brought,” you said, stepping around him to walk to the kitchen. “Then we can talk, yeah?”

He followed so close he accidentally kicked your heels a few times and you could still feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck. He set the bag on the table and unpacked the to-go containers. 

“It’s from that place you really like,” he said. “By the school.”

“Oh, thank you, Tendou.” You accepted the chopsticks he held out. 

Tendou gasped dramatically. “Such formalities, Y/n-chan!”

“Tendu-chan, then,” you corrected yourself.

“Much better,” he said praisingly.

He sat down across from you, eating only a few pieces of chicken before setting his utensils aside. He didn’t say anything, even as you ate your fill. It was clear he was antsy, fingers tapping a staccato beat against the table. 

When you finally slid your plate to the side he scooted forward, resting his face in his palms expectantly. 

“I forgive you,” you said simply. 

Tendou’s signature manic grin took over his entire face and his long fingers tapped a rapid beat on the table in his excitement. Oh, how he had missed you during the two weeks he spent giving you space. He had never realized how much he enjoyed your presence until it abruptly disappeared. Tendou’d also had a few other revelations during the separation.

He said your name softly, so at odds with his typically loud demeanor. He was his most authentic self in your presence, he had come to realize. You looked up from packing up the remaining food and tilted your head. 

“We are still friends, right?” He asked with a tinge of nervousness. 

“Were we ever?” You countered, not angrily. 

“Yes,” Tendou answered quickly, reaching out to grab your hand. “Of course, it was my mistake to ever think otherwise.”

You looked down at his hand on yours and ran a finger over the wrappings he kept on his two fingers. He watched you keenly, fingers twitching at your delicate touch. 

“My, my,” he said with a sly grin. “What is little Y/n thinking about?”

You shot him a bland look, dropping his hand pointedly. “You’re disgusting.”

Just like that any tension between the two of you vanished with his boisterous laugh. He wiggled his wrapped fingers in your face enticingly until you smacked them away.

“I brought the latest chapter Shonen Jump,” he said animatedly, reaching into his bag. “I thought we could read it together.” 

It was a Friday, after all.

“Sure, let me put this food up,” you said. 

Tendou grinned eagerly, bouncing to his feet while you brought the food to the fridge; already talking a mile a minute about a different manga he had just finished. You couldn’t stop the smile that worked its way onto your face, you loved his aimless rambling. Where you more reserved, Tendou was outgoing and could fill any gaps in the conversation you left behind. It worked well for the two of you. 

While watching Tendou chatter away you wondered if you had been too harsh at the train station. Clearly there was an underlying insecurity that convinced him you didn’t care about him. Was it his history of bullying? Before you had really gotten to know Tendou, it was hard to imagine him as anything but carefree and untouchable. You knew he would tell you eventually. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow. Over the past few years you had found the best way to get Tendou to open up was to say nothing at all, his rambling always ended up on touchy topics anyways.

Tendou held out an earbud for you once you sat down on the couch beside him. You placed it in your ear and smiled when you recognized the playlist the two of you had put together. The only time Tendou could stay quiet longer than five minutes was when he was reading. You settled into the familiar routine, sitting close to him while he angled the pages towards you so you could both read. Tendou was such a fast reader you were forced to learn to speed read as well in order to keep up with him. Now, you were perfectly synchronized.

 Today, however, he couldn’t stop glancing over at you. Ugh, he suddenly so acutely aware of everything you did. Every time you shifted to see a panel or readjusted the earbud he felt his heart pickup and he was too aware of every movement he made. His limbs felt too long and awkward, his face felt too warm, and oh my god did he brush his teeth this morning? 

Tendou swallowed nervously, for once relieved for the chapter to finally end so he could put some space between your bodies. He stood up abruptly, wincing when the earbud was ripped out of his ear. 

“Ow,” you held your ear. “Is something wrong, Tendu-chan?”

“Of course not, dearest Y/N,” he put on his widest grin, bowing down and extending his hand. Fuck, your nickname for him was not helping his nerves. “I was just wondering if you would like to accompany me to the bathroom.”

“Ew, what is wrong with you?” You smacked his hand away. 

“Well, you did ask,” he chirped cheerfully before prancing down the hall. 

You sighed, replacing the earbud while settling into a more comfortable position. After several minutes you realized Tendou had yet to return. Frowning, you stood up and went to the bathroom to find the door still closed. 

“Tendu-chan?” You knocked softly. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, Y/N,” Tendou popped his head out from your bedroom. “I was looking at your photo wall.”

You raised your eyebrows, following him inside. “Yeah? I have quite a few.”

It had been a hobby of yours to have at least three pictures of each of yours friends on your wall since elementary school. Since you started hanging out with Tendou at the beginning of high school, his section had amassed a great deal of photos. 

“I forget you’ve never been in here,” you smiled, watching Tendou closely.

You had never seen such an open expression on his face before. His eyes flicked over the photos of him taped to your wall quickly, as if he couldn’t decide which to focus on. 

“I didn’t realize,” he said softly.

“Hm?”

He tilted his head back, sliding his eyes to look at you. “I didn’t realize I still had a safe place, a paradise.” 

“You’ll always be welcome here, Satori,” you reached out and squeezed his bicep. “I promise.” 

“I feel so blind, Y/N,” he closed his eyes, head still tipped back as he took in a slow, study breath. “I thought I had lost everything when volleyball ended. My friends, my passion…” 

Crimson eyes locked on your own, the intensity of them so startling you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“But I still have you,” Tendou said, slowly turning his body to face yours. “Right?”

“Of course,” you answered.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good.” 

His head turned back towards your wall of photos, fingers reaching out to snag at the bottom of one. You looked closer and saw it was a picture of the two of you at one of his games. You had jumped onto his back to hug him and your friend had barely managed to get the shot. The blurry grins on your faces were bright and excited.

“Can I?” He asked, tugging lightly on the corner. 

“Take it, I can print a new one.” You said. 

He peeled it off carefully and flashed a grin at you. 

“Thank you,” he reached out, placing his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair messily. 

You knocked his hand away and brushed your hair back into place with a huff. Tendou laughed loudly, sprawling backwards onto your bed with a thump. He looked at the picture once more before sliding it into his pocket. He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at you with his signature sleepy smirk. 

“Make yourself comfortable, I guess,” you said. 

“Aw, you’re so considerate,” Tendou crooned, stretching his arms out until his shirt road up to reveal his toned stomach. 

You glanced down at the exposed skin and blushed, looking away quickly. Tendou noticed, of course, and couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk on his face as he reached out and grabbed your hand. 

“Tendou-“

“Oh, hush,” he chastised lightly. “I’m just getting you to sit. This is your bed, after all.”

You sat down on the edge, watching as he pulled your hand to his chest. He examined your fingers faintly before weaving his fingers with yours. When your fingers spasmed nervously he gripped them tighter. 

“I had a lot of time to think,” he sighed, eyes still fixated on your joined hands, before elaborating. “While we were apart.”

You stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue with bated breath. 

“I like you, Y/N,” his eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul. 

“Tendu-chan-“ You started to pull your fingers away.

One second you were sitting at the edge of the bed and the next you were pinned beneath Tendou’s body. His breath tickled your lips and his hands kept your arms above your head by the wrists. 

“Please, let me say this,” he pleaded, eyes switching between yours and your lips. 

“You made high school bearable for me,” he said, pushing up until he was knelt between your legs instead of having you pinned. His hands rested on either side of your ribs. “I didn’t appreciate you enough at the time but-“

His fingers clenched in the sheets. “I do now, I appreciate you so much. Everyone else thought I was a monster, demon, whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore but when it did you were the only one who made it all easier. Does that make sense?”

“What about Ushijima? Your teammates?”

Tendou chuckled, letting his head droop between his shoulders. “Of course them, silly Y/N. They didn’t really have a choice, hm? I was on the team, you don’t really get to pick who’s there. You went out of your way to befriend me, to make sure I was okay before you even knew me.” 

You looked up at him, ignoring his little sniffle and the way he rubbed his nose against his sleeve subtly. You sat up slowly while Tendou watched you closely with his head tilted. 

“You’re my best friend, you know that right?” You asked softly. 

He nodded. 

“You will always be welcome in my home and I promise I will always want you around. You’re right, whatever those people used to say about you doesn’t matter. They were needlessly cruel and I wish I could’ve stopped them from hurting you,” you reached up, cupping his cheek gently. “You’re important, Tendu-chan. You’re caring, funny, and genuine. I love hearing about your favorite anime and your coolest blocks. I really do.” 

“Ohhh, is little Y/N crying for me?” He cooed, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears gathering on your lashes. “Sweet thing.” 

“I’m serious,” you said, letting him wipe your cheeks. 

“I know,” he squinted at you. “Will you let me try something?”

From the way his crimson eyes kept flickering down to your lips, you could easily guess what he wanted to try. You nodded mutely, breath catching excitedly as his face drew closer. 

The first touch of his lips felt like a static shock. Your eyes fluttered close as he pushed a little closer, experimentally moving his lips against yours. He let out a low groan into your mouth, pushing forward until you were laying down again. The hands that had been by your sides now moved to tangle in your hair and cup your face while his hips settled comfortably between your thighs. 

The first brush of his tongue across your bottom lip sent fire licking up your spine which eventually settled as a fluttering warmth in your stomach. Your hands came up to grab his arms, nails leaving shallow crescents on the pale skin of his biceps through his shirt. Parting with a nip to your bottom lip, Tendou licked his lips as he looked down at you. 

The sight of your flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips sent a thrill of exhilaration through his chest. 

“Well?” He asked, a cocky grin smeared across his lips. 

It was like you were seeing Tendou in a brand new light. Before he was just your friend. You always knew he was good-looking but now, you were supremely aware of his shapely lips, cut jaw, and broad shoulders. His hips between yours was as intoxicating as the elated look on his face. 

“Stop looking so smug,” you huffed, pulling him down to your lips again. 

Laughing softly, Tendou happily obliged you in another sensuous kiss that left you dizzy and breathless. He swallowed your gasp when he experimentally rolled his hips into yours.

He pulled back, eyes lidded with a dazed smile, and tilted his head. “Is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly, leaning up to capture him in another kiss. With a sly smirk he pulled out of your reach, head tilted expectantly. 

“Yes, Tendou, now please get back to it,” you snapped, secretly appreciative of his need for clear consent. 

“There we go,” he murmured, stooping back down with a thorough roll of his hips. 

A groan was shared between both of your open mouths as his hips fell into a steady rhythm, slowly undulating against you. Sighing out his name, you let your head fall back while Tendou trailed kisses across your jaw and down to your throat. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so perfect,” he murmured breathlessly, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses down the column of your throat. “Feel so good, hah-“

 His clothed erection lined up perfectly with your core, sending searing electricity flickering through your stomach. Your hands went from gripping his arms to tangling in his hair, tugging lightly at the crimson strands. 

“Haah-ah,” you moaned at a particularly accurate thrust that had his entire length dragging along your clit. “Satori, please.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Tendou sighed into your ear, pushing aside your hair so he could hide his face in the warmth of your neck. “You’re so hot, gonna make me cum in my pants. Keep making those pretty noises for me, sweet thing.”

You nodded along eagerly, pulling his head away from your neck so your could attach your lips again. Steady thrusts began to lose their rhythm as both of you got closer to completion. Tendou let out a throaty groan, wrapping his lean arms around you tightly so he could rub his hard-on against your core with more force. 

“Satori, ah!” You cried out at the stimulation. 

He clashed his mouth against yours messily, teeth clicking while he gasped against your lips. 

“M’ close,” he clenched his eyes shut. 

“Me too, me too,” you whined, hips writhing up against his desperately. “Satori!” Tendou practically growled at that, mouth claiming yours assertively. You shouted his name again while your orgasm wracked through your body, leaving you sensitive and tingly as Tendou chased his own release. He came with a low moan into your mouth, hips rolling gently through the aftershocks. 

When he finally slowed to a stop he went completely slack on top you. Tendou mouthed gently at your neck, fingers petting your hair as you both caught your breath. You released his hair and unclenched your stiff fingers a few times before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

Curious hands slowly pushed beneath your shirt, tenderly exploring your body while Tendou continued to leave lazy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. His handsiness didn’t bother you since you were also busy tracing the muscles of his back. 

You whined when he landed another quick kiss before pushing off of you. 

“I gotta clean up,” he said, darting down to kiss you again. 

That reminded you of the uncomfortable dampness in your own pants so you got up as well. You found a pair of sweatpants that he could fit into from your brother and set them by the bathroom door for him. By the time you came back from changing he was already lounging in your bed again, your brother’s sweatpants an inch or two too short�� above his ankles. 

Tendou’s expression brightened when you walked in, his eyes wide to match his grin as you climbed in to lay next to him. He was quick to wrap his arms around you again. 

“Well?” He asked. 

“Hmm?” You responded, face pressed against his shoulder. 

“What are we now?” He leaned back so he could see your face. 

You stretched languidly, tossing a leg over his hips and an arm over his chest before responding. 

“What do you want this to be?” 

“I want you to be mine,” he answered honestly. 

“Then I’m yours,” you said simply, kissing the hinge of his jaw. 

“My girlfriend,” he said adoringly, twisting to his side so you were facing each other.

You laughed softly, letting him cup your cheeks so he could pull you into an unhurried kiss. His tongue pressed past your lips to sweep along your teeth and slide hotly against yours. 

“I’m pretty great at apologies, huh?” He boasted. 

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned, pushing him away by his forehead. 

Tendou let you shove his face away with a quiet giggle before brushing your hand away so he could attack your neck with more kisses. 

“You better not be leaving marks,” you threatened halfheartedly, too caught up in the addicting sensation of his lips on your body to be serious. 

Tendou eyed a particularly red spot, pressing a light kiss to it. “Of course not, baby.” 

“That didn’t sound too convincing.”

“Well… it might fade,” Tendou circled the spot with his finger. “I kinda like it.”

“Satori!”

“Whaaat?” He crooned. “It lets everyone know you’re mine.” 

“Ugh, you creep,” you murmured, accepting a soft kiss. 

Tendou giggled cheerfully, squeezing you closer to him affectionately. He left a flurry of kisses across your cheeks and nose, sighing happily. 

“I love this,” his hands roved over your body. “Getting to touch and kiss you as much as I want.” 

“Mm, me too.”

Tendou’s lean body was beautiful, so was his blush when you informed him of this. He groaned and hid his face in the crook your neck. 

“I’m serious!” You insisted, pulling his face from your neck so you could look at him.

“I know you are, thank you,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. 

“Aww, are you embarrassed?”

Tendou scoffed. “Tch, of course not. I’m a catch, a total babe.”

Laughing, you let him bite playfully at the hinge of your jaw for a moment before shoving him away so he couldn’t leave another mark. Tendou settled down and was happy to let you brush your fingers through his hair until it lost it’s shape and started to fall over his forehead. 

“Mmm, sleepy,” he sighed, practically purring as you massaged his scalp. 

“Go to sleep then.” 

He hummed, twisting his body until he was on his stomach with half of his body draped over yours. You smiled warmly, of course Tendou was a clingy sleeper. 

[itadorisgf]

Hello! I dont know if your event is already full or not because your last update was a few hours ago. If it still has a slot for one more, may i please request megumi touching you (not in a sexual way, just like platonically / romantically) to get your attention? I think this was from the first promt. Thankyou!

— fushiguro megumi + touching you to get your attention

⤷ anonymous asked: Hello! I don't know if your event is already full or not because your last update was a few hours ago. If it still has a slot for one more, may i please request megumi touching you (not in a sexual way, just like platonically / romantically) to get your attention? I think this was from the first prompt. Thank you!

note: this turned into a whole fic…the part where gumi touches you to grab your attention is rather brief, but i still hope u like this!!

ft. fushiguro megumi

warning: gn!reader, second-year!reader, fluff, blood, pre-relationship so pining!reader

⤷ the flower shop

You are going to kill Gojo-Sensei.

Your mouth flattens into a tight line, brows pinching together to form a deep crease, as your grip on your phone tightens. The bright image pulled up on the screen of your handheld device is the cause for your ire. It’s one of a series of images that Gojo-Sensei has sent to your group chat with your fellow Second-Years of Fushiguro Megumi looking worse for wear. Though the images are all rather blurry, you can clearly make out the injured state Fushiguro’s in: his uniform is dirtied and his face is scraped up with what looks like fresh blood streaming down from his hairline. You’re sure Maki will get a kick of Fushiguro getting his ass handed to him, but you’re more concerned about Fushiguro’s current physical state.

He must not be too severely injured if Gojo-Sensei is texting you Second-Years pictures of Fushiguro all beaten up. This should help alleviate your stress, but it doesn’t. Your gut still churns uncomfortably at the thought, at the image, of Fushiguro injured, seriously or not.

You exit the images to view the chat. You roll your eyes at Gojo’s text message, which accompanies the many pictures he sent of Fushiguro.

Gojo-Sensei: Look who got beat up!!!

As a teacher, he really shouldn’t sound so thrilled at the prospect of his student getting injured, but then again, Gojo-Sensei’s not exactly a respectable teacher in your eyes. Your eyes scan the rest of the messages from your classmates. Given the time difference, you would guess that Yūta is most likely busy with his day right now all the way on the other side of the world, hence his lack of response. You make a mental note to shoot him a text soon and check in on him. You know Yūta well enough to know that he’s probably running himself ragged. Toge’s in the middle of a mission right now, which only leaves Panda and Maki available to reply to Gojo-Sensei’s message.

You were correct in your assumption that Maki would be pleased with the pictures, her text asking if Gojo-Sensei managed to get a video of Fushiguro getting beat up. Panda echoes that sentiment by responding with arrows pointing upward underneath Maki’s text. Your thumbs hover over your keyboard, contemplating if you should reply or ignore the chat.

“Is Fushiguro alright?” You hit send before you can overthink and toss your phone onto your nightstand. When your phone loudly pings, you scramble in the dark to grab it, unlocking your phone to view the response. You flip onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow with a loud muffled groan.

Maki: Aw, are you worried about your lover boy?

You should’ve never confided in Maki about your small crush on Fushiguro. Well, it’s not like you were the one to bring it up. When Maki had casually slipped into your conversation that it’s gross how much you resemble a lovesick puppy around Fushiguro, you were taken aback and attempted to refute her observation. However, your best friend knows you like the back of her hand and bluntly stated that it’s obvious you’re pining for Fushiguro. You winced when she told you that. Was it really that obvious? The pointed look she gave you in return confirmed that yes, it was that obvious. Luckily for you, Fushiguro is one of the densest people you know when it comes to the realm of romance so to your knowledge, he’s still completely clueless to your feelings.

Your classmates all know of your feelings for the First-Year, but they don’t meddle in your love life. The most they do is tease you or give you knowing looks, which you brush off as quickly as you can while you try to rein in the resulting heat that floods your face. No, it’s not your classmates you have to worry about. It’s your idiot of a Sensei who has nothing better to do with his life than to concern himself with his students’ love lives despite being the strongest Sorcerer there is. If you could, you’d sock him right in the gut for the number of times he’s attempted to push you and Fushiguro together. The awkwardness that came from those experiences still makes you want to crawl into a hole whenever you think about it for too long.

The vibration of your phone in your hand draws you out of your thoughts. You grimace when you read the text message.

Gojo-Sensei: Don’t worry!!!! Your lover boy is alright, but I bet he’d feel better if you checked in on him. ;)

You can clearly envision Gojo-Sensei’s glee on the other end of the phone. The man feeds off of embarrassing his students. You opt not to respond anymore, clicking out of the application and turning off your phone. Gently placing your phone onto your night stand, you tug your comforter up to your chin and close your eyes for the night.

Perhaps, you will check in on Fushiguro later.

“Oi, quit zoning out.”

You groan in pain when Maki sharply jabs you in the stomach with the end of her wooden bo staff. She gives you an unamused look when you toss a harsh glare her way.

“I’m not zoning out,” you mutter, readjusting your grip on your respective staff to continue the light sparring session you and Maki are engaging in. She doesn’t bother to restrain herself from rolling her eyes as she counters your strike, easily knocking your staff out of your hands. You’re quick in your attempt to grab your staff again, but Maki cleanly sweeps your legs out from under you, sending you crashing face first in the dirt.

“Right, and Mai and I have a wonderful relationship,” She sarcastically says, digging one end of her bo staff into the ground and leaning her weight against it. “He’s fine, you know? You shouldn’t worry so much about him. You should be more worried about me kicking your ass.”

You loudly whine when Maki brings him up and flop onto your back to gaze up at her. “Who said I’m worried about Fushiguro?” You childishly huff, propping yourself up and leaning back onto your forearms. Your expression scrunches up in distaste as dirt uncomfortably sticks to your sweaty skin.

Though you’re attempting to deny it, of course, you’re worried about Fushiguro. Although Maki already knows how you feel about the First-Year, you’d rather skirt around the subject and pretend that you’re much better at hiding your emotions than you actually are.

“Who said anything about Fushiguro?” Maki innocently cocks a brow, but smirks to herself as you murmur a low fuck underneath your breath. Damn, you walked right into that one.

“I hate you, you know that?” You deadpan, staring straight into Maki’s eyes.

“Yeah, I hate you too.”

The corner of your lips twitch up into a hint of grin as Maki offers you a hand, pulling you up onto your feet.

You wrap up your training session not long after that since Maki claimed that she didn’t see the point in continuing to spar if you’re not going to give it your all. “There’s no fun in beating someone over and over again,” she sighed as you were knocked to the ground for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You gave her a half-hearted glare in response to that comment.

Freshly showered, you’re now lounging on one of the benches placed near the dorms, occupying your time by scrolling through social media. You try to convince yourself that you’re hanging around outside because you want to enjoy how nice the day is, but you, and everyone else, know better. Fushiguro, and presumably Gojo-Sensei, should be coming back from their mission soon. Although you know that Fushiguro wasn’t seriously injured, you also know that the tight coil of worry in your stomach won’t go away until you see it with your own eyes that Fushiguro is, indeed, okay.

“Senpai?” The sudden noise startles you and you scramble to sit up straight. You unconsciously smooth out the creases in your clothing as you meet the eyes of the person who called you.

“Fushiguro,” you breathe out, relief heavily laced in your voice. You push yourself off the bench to stand on your feet and quickly scan his form for injuries, brows furrowing when you see the numerous bandages littering his face. It’s only when Fushiguro shifts underneath your intense gaze that you realize how long you must have spent staring at his face. Great, now he’s going to think you’re some sort of creep, you think to yourself. “H-how are you feeling?”

You internally wince at your slight fumbling over your words. You’re just glad nobody else is around to witness this encounter, Gojo-Sensei and Maki would find way too much delight in your distress.

Fushiguro brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. A hint of redness seeps out from underneath his bandages, staining his cheeks, as he reflects on how badly his simple retrieval mission turned out. He’ll leave it up to Gojo-Sensei to explain to your class about Itadori and how he’s Sukuna’s new vessel. He wonders how you all will take it.

“I’m fine, Senpai,” he replies, grimacing as the pads of his fingertips run along the gauzy material of the bandage firmly wrapped around his head. Heat floods his cheeks when he looks up to see the genuine concern in your expression. Fushiguro’s thankful that the bandage on his cheek manages to partially conceal the flush of his skin. “Really.” He adds on for extra emphasis. You still look unconvinced, but you nod along as if you actually believe Fushiguro’s words.

“Well, that’s a relief. I was worried about you when Gojo-Sensei sent us those pictures of you all bloodied up,” you say with a sheepish grin.

“You were worried about me?” Fushiguro questions with a slight raise of his brow.

Oh fuck. For a moment, you say nothing: frozen completely still as your brain attempts to process the fact that you just told Fushiguro, to his face, that you were concerned about his well-being. Maybe, he’d interpret your words in a friendly way. Perhaps, he would think that you were just being a good upperclassman and looking out for him. If you were lucky, Fushiguro would think nothing of your comment.

“Senpai?” A sudden weight on your shoulder pulls you out of your internal panicking. Fushiguro’s hand lightly rests on your shoulder as a concerned expression lies on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Fushiguro,” you assure him. There’s still a slight frown in place, crinkling the bandage stuck on the corner of Fushiguro’s mouth. You inhale deeply in order to muster up as much courage as you can for what you’re going to do next. “I promise.” Your voice softens as you gently place your palm over the back of Fushiguro’s hand.

Fushiguro stills underneath your touch and you have to restrain yourself from giggling at the intense redness that floods his cheeks. His flush deepens even more when you find yourself unable to completely suppress your amusement, your quiet laughter filling the air. He’s quick to draw his hand off of your shoulder to rest by his side.

“Good. I’m going to go rest in my dorm now. See you later, Senpai.” His words nearly slur together with how fast Fushiguro spits them out. You don’t even have the opportunity to say goodbye in return as Fushiguro swiftly turns around and rushes inside of the dorm building.

He’s awfully cute when he’s flustered, you muse. A silly grin crosses your face unconsciously as you attempt to sear the image of Fushiguro blushing into your memory. Maybe, your feelings aren’t as unrequited as you think.

“Ah, young love.”

You jolt, spinning around to face the owner of the voice. Your grin falls as soon as you make eye contact with the individual.

“Gojo-Sensei,” you deadpan. Your brow twitches in annoyance at his elated expression. Knowing him, he probably eavesdropped on your entire conversation with Fushiguro. “If you took any pictures or videos, I am going to kill you.”

His grin only widens at that.

“Too late.”

[neko-rogers]

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

     It was emotionally crushing.

     The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings. 

     As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

     It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

     Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

     “You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

     The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

     Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

     You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

     “Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

     You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

     “I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles. 

     “Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?” 

     “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

     However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

     “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

     “It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.”      “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

     “I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

     Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

     You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

     This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

     Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

     “Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation. 

     “But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

     You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

     There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back. 

     “Okay then I’ll–”

     “No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

     You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends. 

     And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     "Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

     “We’re so proud of you.”

     “You two look so happy together!”

     “Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

     “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

     A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

     Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

     All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

     After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

     Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

     “To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

     You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

     Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

     Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

     When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

     Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

     “Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

     Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad. 

     Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

     “I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

     “We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

*

     Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

     As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

     Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

     When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

     His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

     He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

     “I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

     His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

     “I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

     Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

     “Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

     “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

     “You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

     Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

     “I’m sorry–”      “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

     “I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

     “No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

     “Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     “That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

     Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

     You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

     It was emotionally crushing.

     “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     “Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

     “That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

     “Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

     “Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

     You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

     “I guess I owe you an apology.”

     Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

     “Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

     The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course, Peter.” 

     “Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.” 

     You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

     “Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

     “I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

     He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

     “You’re too sweet.” You smile.

     Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

     From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

     As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

     “Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

     As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

     And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

     “Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

     “Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

     He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

     His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

     Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally. 

     He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships. 

     And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

     Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

     For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

     One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

     “Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

     “Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

     “Yeah, babe?”

     “C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

     He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

     Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt. 

     He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear. 

     The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

     You react by tightening around it, along with a whine. 

     “Sorry, babe.”

     Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

     Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

     “Hmm,” was your only response.

     Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

     “That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself. 

     He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

     Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

     There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

     “Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

     As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

     Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

     Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

     When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

     “Peter?”      “Hmm?”

     “I still feel hot,” you purr. 

     Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

     You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

     You were his.

[astrella-writes]

prompt | @ssoftlydreaming​ asked: nfjsja ok from sweet home can you do lee eun-hyeok and basically he has to decide if he should risk the danger of everyone in the apartment complex or save reader who is outside and struggling to survive.

warnings | female pronouns, angst, spoilers for episode one of the netflix adaptation of sweet home, if you haven’t watched episode one complete then this won’t make much sense, panic attacks, the general horror of sweet home, eun-hyuk being a logical pain in the ass, somewhat of an open-ending.

word count | 1.7K

author’s note | i hope this satisfies your masochistic desires! i’m honestly so happy to have angst as my first request, and that isn’t sarcasm at all.

The sound of his descending footsteps echoing throughout the concrete stairwell became background noise to Eun-Hyuk as he stared at the unanswered messages he had sent you well over an hour ago. This was strange behavior coming from you, considering you usually responded back within minutes. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he tried to think of a logical explanation to calm his increasing worries. Perhaps your phone died on your walk home, or you had to work over-time without a chance to inform him.

He was certain some minor inconvenience caused your abrupt absence, although he couldn’t shake off the unnerving feeling settling like a burden of tense muscles upon his shoulders. Realizing there wasn’t much more he could do, especially since all the calls he gave you went straight to voice mail, he decided to wait patiently for a reply from you and try to keep his thoughts clear during the meantime.

Eun-Hyuk stuffed his phone into his pocket as he finally reached the half-open double doors that led out onto the first floor, his ears immediately picking up on the commotion before he looked over at the front entrance that was blocked by the shutters. A group of people stood dispersed nearby, talking amongst themselves and watching one resident in particular as he tried tugging on the metal bracing that barely budged. The man sighed, dropping his arm and admitting defeat as he walked away from the shutters, mumbling to himself.

‘First the elevators aren’t working, and now this?’ he thought to himself, unimpressed with the current situation, especially since he had work that night. He wasn’t the only one annoyed by the circumstances as the surrounding people openly expressed their vexation. Although, unlike most of them, he remained calm and simply observed the scene with his hands in his pockets. Multiple residents spoke loud enough for him to catch on to the fact that the security guard was missing, which made little sense considering this was an issue for him to resolve.

“Excuse me?” a feminine voice sounded from behind him, causing him to turn around and look at the woman. “Do you have any service on your cell?” Despite having just been on his phone, Eun-Hyuk was so preoccupied with his thoughts regarding your whereabouts that he didn’t notice the minor detail of whether he had any service.

Pulling out his phone and unlocking it, he immediately dialed your number, taking the possibility to hopefully connect with you and find out where you were. When his ear met with a high-pitched ringing, Eun-Hyuk lowered the phone, lost in thought for a second before looking at the woman.

“I guess not,” he said, watching as her face dropped in disappointment and she turned to walk away, but he stopped her with a question. “What’s going on here?” 

The woman hesitated, wondering if anything was even worth sharing considering she would give him more questions than answers. She went on to explain how every main exit had been closed up, locking everyone inside. Although she speculated someone was behind this, she had no idea who it was and for what purpose it was done. 

The explanation caused Eun-Hyuk to swallow thickly before turning his gaze towards the concealed entrance. He stared for a moment, silently wishing for your safety.

                                                          ―――

A shrill ringing penetrated your ear, causing you to jerk your head away from your phone and hang up on your attempt at calling Eun-Hyuk. With a frustrated cry, you threw your cellphone upon the ground, hearing the shattering of the screen as it smacked face-first against the concrete.

On the verge of tears, you made yourself as small as possible in the alleyway's corner, pulling your knees up to your chest as you rested your forehead on top of them. Your breathing grew increasingly more labored as the sensation of dread and pure hopelessness consumed your mind.

Eun-Hyuk’s words repeated in your head during times like this, when you were at risk of having a panic attack. Stay still. Take slow breaths. Think of something nice.

You squeezed your eyes shut, allowing the gathering tears to flow freely down your cheeks as they gathered at the tip of your chin. Forcing yourself to take in deep breaths, your trembling body gradually stilled. Eventually, your thoughts morphed as you focused on your breathing, rather than the surrounding chaos.

Think of something nice.

Eun-Hyuk’s face filled your mind, the sight prompting a ghost of a smile. You recalled your first meeting which occurred almost a year ago, when you had just moved into Green Roof Apartments. Someone had suddenly removed the towering stack of boxes you were carrying from your hold, and just as you were about to thank the person for helping, you realized you recognized him.

It turns out that you both used to attend the same high school, although you weren’t in the same class, your friend group interacted with his friend group quite a lot. Seeing his face brought back all those times at lunch when you would sneakily try to steal glances at him without your friends noticing. They noticed, of course, and teased you relentlessly about your crush but they were nonetheless supportive. They even proposed setting you two up on a date, because a ‘little birdie’ told them he had been crushing on you too.

Unfortunately, you were in such denial that someone as handsome as him had feelings for you, and rejected the offer. He was simply unobtainable, the extent of your relationship never surpassing polite greetings and friendly smiles until you both graduated and never saw each other again. Or at least, that’s what you assumed would happen.

It seemed fate gave you two another chance, unsatisfied with your prior silent pining and not acting upon anything. Considering you both matured immensely, talking came easy, and it wasn’t long before a much deeper connection began blossoming between the both of you.

His sister reacted indifferently when she walked out into the hallway one day, only to witness the both of you moving suspiciously away from each other, as if trying to conceal something. She caught on immediately, especially since her brother had been mentioning you quite often.

“Seriously? He’s the best you can do?” She scoffed, eyeing her brother disapprovingly before pushing between the both of you and walking off. You stared at her retreating figure in shock, oblivious to the smile on Eun-Yoo’s face as she disappeared down the stairs.

Once his sister found out, Eun-Hyuk became increasingly more open in terms of your relationship. And eventually, after a long week of his sister degrading him for not moving to the next step, he asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t the most romantic of set-up’s; he had knocked on your door and asked you so casually that you wondered if he was joking.

When he assured you he wasn’t, you almost knocked him off his feet from the abrupt hug you gave him, accepting his simple proposal.

The memory faded, and the realization hit you like a truck. Eun-Hyuk was waiting for you, and you couldn’t give up on him. Taking a deep breath, you got up from the ground, trying not to focus on the screams and sounds of destruction in the distance as you lightly jogged towards the entrance of the alleyway. You peered behind the wall and looked both ways. The coast was clear; it was now or never.

                                                           ―――

You raced around the corner, narrowly dodging the attention of a nearby monster as its head popped up from one of the many dumpsters lining the brick wall of Green Roof Apartments, the location you had been trying to reach from when this all started.

The sound of metal creaking, which you quickly recognized to be the shutters descending, urged your aching legs to run faster as the darkness before you faded the closer you got to the entrance. That’s when you noticed Eun-Hyuk struggling to keep the shutters open as a distraught woman crawled towards him. He reached out a hand towards her, just as he looked up and made eye contact with you. His eyes widened at the sight, although bloodied and bruised, you were very much alive. You smiled at him, relieved, feeling safe already.

That was until you heard a rustling coming from your right, along with animalistic groans, as if something was just stirring back to life after being immobilized and ready to lash out again. A flurry of panicked voices came from the lobby of the apartment, everyone watching in horror as the hunched-over silhouette of the monster with a snake-like tongue began recovering to its full height.

Luckily for you, the monster disregarded your presence as it ambled towards the entrance. You stood frozen in fear as the shadow of its body passed over you, the sound of its languid steps lulling you into a trance as your body trembled lightly. 

It was perceptible that trying to run past it would end in your demise, leaving you stuck on what to do. Your pleading eyes drifted towards Eun-Hyuk, hoping he would come up with a plan to distract the monster long enough so you could make a break for the gap underneath the shutters he had been holding open - a perfect enough size for you to slide under.

He stared you dead in the eyes as he dropped the shutters; the metal clanging loudly against the tiled floor. You blanched, staring back at him in disbelief. A semblance of guilt took over his features, and you shook your head in denial. 

Your eyes stung with tears, and you wondered whether to cry and beg for him to help you or keep the remaining bit of dignity you had left. The monster suddenly shot its tongue within the gaps of the barred metal and Eun-Hyuk disappeared from sight as he dodged; the trance you were in instantly dissipating as you came to terms with the situation.

He left you to fend for yourself, surrounded by a horde of monsters. You weren’t sure whether to give up or keep going, considering nothing seemed worth fighting for at the moment. 

Did he regret it? Of course. Would he do it again? Without question. Eun-Hyuk would sacrifice anyone to keep his sister safe, even you, and even himself.

[2jaeh]

INSUFFERABLE l  KIM DOYOUNG 

GENRE: mature theme, slight smut

WARNINGS: choking, dom themes, cursing

asshole! Doyoung , enemies to ???

Words : 4k 

You’re put in a group project with the most annoying pretentious jerk your law class had to offer. Immediately Doyoung tries to boss you around but you being you, you weren’t taking his shit...soon enough he finds out he can dominate you after all...in a very different way. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Theres no fucking way...no fucking way” you groaned looking at your group project list, eyes narrowing on possibly the worst people within your course year. Slumping in your seat you half smiled at the girl who approached you, one of your fellow members from project hell. 

“Heyyy y/n I think we're in a group together” she grinned and took a seat next to you, flipping her red hair over her shoulder and checked herself out in her mirror covered cellphone. 

Dami was probably the most narcissistic person you'd ever met and being in law, it was definitely a common trait around here. Dami sat up and began tapping you on your shoulder frantically “He’s in our group! Kim Doyoung is in our group” the two of you watched as the dark haired man conversed with the lecturer, casually turning back to look at the table where you guys sat, in annoyance. 

“That guy is such a prick” a guy who slid in the desk behind you, Seungmin said and Dami nodded in agreeance as you all continued to watch him. 

“Ive never really spoken to him before” you cocked your head, “What’s so annoying about him?” 

This time another group member joined in, a quieter girl who normally sat in the back Jisoo, cleared her throat, “He is really bossy and only likes to do things his own way.”

‘Well he is about to meet his worst nightmare’ you thought knowing nothing pissed you off more than someone telling you what to do. 

The muffled conversations around you began to soften as you felt someone stand over you and drop a file on your desk. Looking up, you locked eyes with the one and only Kim Doyoung, dressed in his usual black slacks, black turtleneck and clear rimmed spectacles. He raised his eyebrow at you as if you were supposed to guess what he wanted.

“What ?” you challenged him, folding your arms across your chest and returned an eyebrow raise. 

Doyoung sighed in annoyance, his long slender fingers moved across the file and opened it swiftly, “I want you to do roll call” he said coldly. 

A lump formed in your throat. You felt like you were being talked down to, it was something that infuriated the hell out of you. He wasn't older than you, nor was he getting better grades than you but somehow he had a superiority complex. Dami quickly nudged you and you rolled your eyes, “Seungmin ?”

“Here!” 

“Jisoo ?” you placed a tick as you called out each name. 

“Dami, Jangjun…?” you looked around and noticed that the usually loud comedic relief in your classroom was nowhere to be seen. 

“I think Jangjun is late, i’ll text him” Seungmin sighed and pulled out his phone. You turned back to the roll call sheet and pursed your lips, “Kim Doyoung ?” 

Doyoung just looked down at you, sucking in his bottom lip and raised that damn eyebrow at you again. 

“You need to say ‘here’ do you not know how roll call works ?” you tested him and he rolled his eyes and sighed, “here.” 

You smiled to yourself, completely satisfied with pissing him off when your internal celebration was interrupted by an out of breath Jangjun, who threw his bag on the floor and took a seat on Dami’s desk. Doyoung looked at him disgustingly, and even though you too were obviously annoyed by Jangjun’s tardiness, was that reaction really necessary ?

“Be on time” Doyoung sneered and grabbed the roll call file making his way back to the lecturer. 

“Fuck Kim Doyoung is in this group ?” Jangjun groaned, sharing the sentiments of the entire meeting. You couldnt believe these were the people you had to work with for the week. It's like you could almost feel an outburst waiting to happen, whether it be from you or Kim Doyoung. 

Doyoung returned and took out his phone, not really looking at any of you as he spoke, “we should make a group chat to update each other on work”

The group hastily shared each other's details and Doyoung created the chat and pinned a set of three rules. 

The first was the group was strictly to be used for the project, no small talk or any other messages that weren't related to the project. The second rule was that no one talks about the group content in private chats as it will cause confusion among members. Lastly you weren't allowed to message after 9pm unless it was an emergency, a very serious emergency. 

“Dang is this the military ?” Jangjun snickered as Seungmin and Dami tried their best to hide their laughs. It was typical of people like Dami and Jangjun to not take anything seriously. Their families were well off and they were just studying just for a piece of paper you call a degree. Doyoung couldn't even hide his annoyance, not like he ever did but he seemed particularly pissed off today. 

“Look, just follow the rules and all of you get a free pass and then we never have to speak to each other again” Doyoung spat and made his way to the exit leaving the rest of you in utter shock. 

———

The first two days were utter hell as Doyoung tried to take control of almost every aspect of the project and frankly you didn't even mind because his business proposal was flawless, it was just the way he spoke to all of you that drove you insane. 

“Dami its not fucking rocket science all you need to do is make a clientele spreadsheet with the mock list the professor gave us” Doyoung didnt even lift his head from his laptop, unaware of the impact his words had on her. 

Dami pushed away from the desk and her eyes began to well up and before you knew it she was running out of the library, with Jisoo and Seungmin following quickly out of concern. 

“Nice move asshole” you rolled your eyes, continuing to work on your laptop. 

Doyoung peered up and pushed his spectacles up, “what was that?” 

“I said nice move asshole, do you intend to talk to your future clients like that?” He initiated a different kind of anger from you but you managed to keep your cool. Doyoung shrugged as if what he had said to Dami had not carried any weight and continued typing away. 

A few minutes of the members disappearance quickly turned to an hour and Doyoung’s nonchalance about the whole ordeal really ticked you off to the point of slamming your laptop closed and pushed back from the desk. 

Doyoung quirked his eyebrow at you, “Is something wrong ?” 

“Is something wrong” you mimicked him, “Jangjun hasn't come in today because you sent him on multiple errands, and you just made Dami cry over something so ridiculous”

Doyoung sat back in his seat and rubbed his temples, “They're all freeloaders, you and I are the only ones doing work, why do you care so much about them?” 

“Basic human fucking decency maybe?” you groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “listen im not like them, i'm not gonna take shit from you”

“Sure”

“Youre a fucking asshole Kim Doyoung.” 

—-

You lay in bed and replayed that scene with Doyoung in your head multiple times. He was so unbothered by your antics nor did he care about anyone's feelings within the group. He was cold, heartless all he thought about was himself. His cold expression was practically engraved in your head, spending all these hours with him was really not your favourite pastime. 

Group 7 gc 7:00pm

KDY: I posted a schedule for tomorrow we will be working in pairs on the highlighted sections. 

You took a look at his document and groaned when you saw your name placed next to his. There was no way, no way in hell you want to work with him one on one. Not caring about breaking his rule, you pulled up a private chat with him and began expressing your concerns. 

y/n  x  KDY : 7:10pm 

Y/N: Hi, there's no fucking way in hell am I working with you. Change It. 

KDY: I said no private chats and no, I'm not changing it. 

Y/N: Wouldn't it be better for us to split and have the others actually DO work for once ?

KDY: I barely gave them room for error, we're going to be the most anyway and besides, I'd prefer someone who can handle...my personality. 

Y/N: …..so you agree..you are an asshole ?

KDY: I give people a reality check that's all..

Y/N: whatever makes you sleep at night...can I atleast choose our work venue because If I were stuck in a library again with you I might kill you. 

KDY: haha..

KDY: sure. 

Y/N: mango drop cafe, 10am. 

KDY: cool, see you then. 

‘Haha’. You had no idea why that text in particular riled you up. Did he find all of this amusing ? Was he making everyone's life a living hell because he enjoyed it ? You stared at his messages and somehow ended up on his profile picture. He was leaning against a railing dressed in all black with his hooded eyes concentrated on the camera lense, Your realization of how attractive he was came from the fact that you stared at the picture for a good 20 minutes. You wondered who took the picture, a girlfriend maybe ? You shook your head. He seemed too uptight to be getting laid. You sighed, closing your phone and awaited yet another day with the insufferable gorgeous man that was Kim Doyoung. 

You arrived quite early at the cafe but of course Doyoung was here before you, already typing away at his laptop, in his usual attire. You greeted the barista and placed an order for a chilled cafe latte before making your way over to him. 

“Hey” you said simply and took a seat opposite him in the booth. Doyoung’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and made room for your books on the table.

“You're here early” 

“You're already picking a fight with me?” you said casually setting up your workspace. 

Doyoung chuckled under his breath and shook his head, “I just didn't expect you this early y/n it's not that serious.” 

You ignored his words and got straight to work, not in the mood to play his little game. You felt Doyoung look at you a few times. You weren't sure if it were to check if youre doing the right thing or he was just looking at you. 

“Well i'm done with my part” you stretched your arms above your head and yawned. 

“Yeah I'm pretty much done too, Do you want another cup of coffee ?” Doyoung offered pointing to your empty cup. You were taken back by his softer demeanor but quickly nodded, “uh yeah sure.” 

Doyoung returned carrying a tray of two fresh cups of coffee and a slice of cheesecake. Setting everything down he handed you the extra fork and placed the cheesecake in the middle of the table to make it easier to share. 

“H-how much do I owe you ?” You fumbled in your bag for your wallet. 

“It's okay, it's my treat” Doyoung replied, placing a piece of cheesecake in his mouth and slowly licking the fork clean. You gulped as his tongue darted out carefully licking the cream from the metal, not leaving any residue behind. You had no idea what the hell was going on but you felt hot, almost claustrophobic. 

“You're okay?” Doyoung asked innocently, unaware of what he was doing to you. 

“Why are you being...nice?” You questioned, knitting your eyebrows together as the man continued to act as if this was his usual behavior. 

Doyoung pursed his lips and placed the fork on the plate, “You want me to be mean to you?”

“No I just don't get-”

“I apologized to Dami and she told me she only overreacted because the guy she likes, Seungmin was there” Doyoung explained and removed his spectacles, “she was embarrassed to ask anyone for help, I paired them up for today.”

“Wait wha-”

“Also Jangjun works at the campus radio” Doyoung continued, “I had only found out the day we all met, I gave him tasks that will allow him more flexibility, that way he doesn't have to join group sessions often.” 

You blinked, unable to form any words in order to reply to Doyoung. Especially after he chuckled at your speechlessness, knowing you didn't bother getting his side of the story at first. 

“You were right y/n I dont have to be an asshole all the time, I just like to get my work done” He shrugged. You kept eye contact with him but somehow it felt as if he were still toying with you, waiting on your next reaction. He seemed like he played this game often, making sure he always had the upper hand. Doyoung seemed relaxed as he stared at you, taking another scoop of the cheesecake and slowly ran his tongue over his lips after his bite. What the fuck was he doing ? 

“Y/N ?” you heard a familiar voice come from the entrance of the cafe. Your attention diverted from Doyoung to the blonde haired boy who began approaching your table. 

“Jungwoo ? oh my God what are you doing here ?” You stood up and pulled him into a tight hug and pecked his cheek. Doyoung shifted awkwardly in his seat as he watched your exchange with the stranger. 

“I got off early from class about to go to Subway, are you still doing that group project thing?” Jungwoo looked over at your table and half smiled at Doyoung who tried to distract himself with his phone. 

“Uh yeah but i'm all done here I think, wanna hang out ?” you hooked arms with Jungwoo as he nodded enthusiastically. You turned around and scratched the back of your head, 

“So...uh”

“Were all done you can go, I have somewhere to be anyway” Doyoung smiled as you slowly began packing up your things. 

“Alright, see you tomorrow I guess” you bid your goodbye and headed out for lunch with Jungwoo. 

—-

You had just finished up your skincare routine and caught up with a few instagram posts when you noticed Doyoung had followed you. Sitting up in bed you scrolled through his feed curiously. Every post was aesthetically pleasing and he looked absolutely hot in every single one of them. He had to have a girlfriend right ? No guy posts pictures this good without women flooding his DMs. 

There was no harm in doing the same since he was in your class, you decided to return the follow and close the app. Suddenly your phone vibrated with a new message in your chats. 

Y/N X KDY  10:30pm

KDY: hey 

Y/N: aren't you breaking two of your rules right now ?

KDY: haha 

KDY: I didn't realize what time it was…

Y/N: ….anyways..is this about work at least ?

KDY: kinda… you left one of your books at the cafe. I have it with me. 

Y/N: oh… thank you.

KDY: no prob...oh I hope its not a problem I added you on ig

Y/N: no its okay we are friends I guess

KDY: haha I thought I was the insufferable asshole..

Y/N: you are...but not all the time. Look im sorry for saying shitty things about you. 

KDY: its all good. 

KDY: …….

Y/N: ..whats up?

You twirled your fingers as you watched the three dots from Doyoung pop up and disappear over and over again. What was taking him so long ? 

KDY: that guy….that you met at the cafe..is he your boyfriend ?

Y/N: Jungwoo ? no way we've been friends since high school.

KDY: oh..

Y/N:....why would you even ask that ?

KDY: curious. 

Y/N: curious about who I'm dating ??

KDY: A little. 

You frowned at your phone and noticed Doyoung had changed his profile picture to a selfie. The picture was..something alright. You bit down on your lip as you enlarged the picture, which showed a wet haired Doyoung with his head resting in his palm and his long index finger was placed between his plump lips. 

“Fuck y/n get yourself together” you gave yourself a pep talk before opening his chat back up again. 

Y/N X KDY  10.54PM

Y/N: fine if you can ask a question can I ask one..

KDY: go ahead 

Y/N: who do you keep thirst trapping for ?

KDY: ….haha thirst trapping ? 

Y/N: Yeah who do keep posting these hot pics for huh

KDY: …..

KDY: You think i'm hot ?

Fuck. Why did you word it that way. You groaned immediately regretting sending that message but something in you was so curious about him you decided to just risk it, what was the worst that could happen ? 

Y/N: well yeah, I mean I'm sure everyone thinks you're attractive, you seem to know it too. 

KDY: wow. 

KDY: I think you're hot too. 

What the hell was going on. You felt your face heat up and you placed your pillow in between your legs as you turned on your side. 

KDY: I was almost disappointed when I thought Jungwoo was your boyfriend, he's way too passive. 

Y/N: ...and what makes you think you know what kind of man I need ?

KDY: hmmm

KDY: first of, with that fucking attitude of yours..A dominate one. 

You swallowed hard as you felt a tingle in your stomach, squeezing your thighs together on the pillow to create more friction. 

Y/N: I could say the same for you. 

KDY: You may think youre dominate in many aspects...but when it comes to fucking..im the one in charge. 

God you hated how hot that sounded. He had you in the palm of his hand through text. You were a mess and he wasn't even the room to fuel it. You wanted him so fucking bad it was insane. 

Y/N: running your mouth doesn't equate to doing it you know...

KDY:.....

KDY: then would you like me to show you ?

Everything happened so damn fast. One minute you two were texting the next minute you were sharing your apartment location and Doyoung was on his way over. You scrambled to put on sexier underwear and do your hair, still in shock by the fact that Doyoung was on his way over to bang you. 

You jumped when you heard the doorbell and realized it was him. Opening the door you were greeted to a very different look of Doyoung. His hair was messy and reached his eyes. Instead of his usual black academic attire he wore a loose white vest that showed off his toned chest and arms, along with a pair of grey sweatpants. 

“Hi” Doyoung smirked, his eyes were dark as he scanned your figure. 

“Hi” you responded, leaning against the wall in the hallway and looked up at him. Doyoung slowly approached you, like a lion circling its prey. His slender fingers danced lightly along your body, drawing a line from your waist until he found your throat and wrapped his cold fingers around it. He bit down on his lip as he studied how perfectly his hand looked around it and squeezed gently, smirking after hearing a soft moan emit from you. 

“I want you to do as I say, any back chat from you will get you punished you got that ?” he brought his lips down to your neck and exhaled. 

You nodded in response but that wasn't good enough for Doyoung. You felt his squeeze on your throat once more and he used his hips to pin you against the wall, “use your words” he gritted his teeth. 

“Yes sir” you replied obediently, and felt him smile against your neck. 

“Good girl, and if i'm too rough let me know so I can stop okay ?” he replied, his voice changed and it was much sweeter and genuine than before. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek when you nodded and led you to the bed. 

Doyoung lay you on the bed, already stripping off his shirt and ordered you to undress yourself and rid him off his sweatpants. You bit down on your lip taking notice of how aroused he was when you palmed his member. 

Doyoung watched you through hooded eyes as you discarded his sweatpants and boxers. He softly patted your head and grabbed a tuft of your hair in order to make you look up at him. 

“Spit” he ordered, and held out his hand and you did as you were told. You watched as he lathered himself with it, moaning as he stroked himself. He was so damn sexy, biting down on lip and slowly pleased himself as you watched. 

“Do you want this inside you sweetheart ?” he cooed and placed a finger under chin. 

You nodded quickly, “Yes please” 

“What do you want me to do baby ?” He purred and hovered over you as you lay on the bed, breathing heavily as his fingers moved against your warm skin, tracing your curves, ghosting over your heat and returning back to your lips to insert a digit inside. 

Doyoung watched diligently as you sucked on his finger like the good girl he knew you were. He finally pulled his finger out and with one swift movement entered with his member before you could even respond to his question. You moaned as he quickly slammed his hips into yours, wasting no time in gaining a rhythm as you marked his back with scratch marks feeling as though you were on a high. 

Doyoung fucked you like a pro, wasting no time to switch positions and had you on all fours, slapping your ass before slamming into you again, that pretentious smirk forming on his face as he heard your whimpers asking him for more. 

“Are you ready to cum sweetheart ?” he asked, pulling you up as his strokes became slower and tugged on your ear with his teeth. 

“Y-yes yes i'm ready” you panted.

“What's the magic word ?” he growled as he grabbed your throat and slowed down his pace as you were nearing your climax. 

“Fuck youre so annoying PLEASE, please let me cum Doyoung fuck” 

Doyoung chuckled and picked up his pace until you finally climaxed and he followed shortly after, collapsing in the bed next to you. 

“You have such an attitude God” he rolled his eyes playfully, bringing the blanket over your bodies and grinned when you moved in to cuddle him. 

“I guess you will have to fix that some time” you yawned and wrapped your arm around his waist, “but I have to admit, maybe I do enjoy the insufferable Kim Doyoung bossing me around once in a while.”

[c-e-d-dreamer]

For AU Day for @nessianweek I thought I’d test out this College AU that’s been bouncing around my brain because I’m College AU trash that I’m considering writing a proper/chaptered fic for. Hope you enjoy! :) 

Most days, University of Prythian feels like every other public college. All brooding brick buildings and precisely placed green spaces and students loudly milling about in droves. A group of frat boys throwing around a frisbee on the common. A group of girls in bikinis tops taking advantage of the late August sun. Shouts of “oh my god, hey” and “how was your summer” just barely drowning out crying parents dropping their kids off. It’s migraine inducing. 

Nesta throws the car into park, the old Chevy only groaning slightly as it settles after the trek up to campus. She hears the doors open and close, but she just grips the wheel and closes her eyes, taking in three steadying breaths and hoping the oxygen can find a way to calm her spiking blood. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It’s a new year. After everything that happened last year, technically up should be the only direction. She hopes. Once Nesta feels like she has a hold of her frayed nerves, she slides out of the driver’s seat to find Feyre already excitedly pulling her bags from the trunk, settling them on the pavement next to the car. Elain comes up beside their youngest sister, pulling her own suitcases out. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off closer to your dorm, Elain?” 

“I’m in Oakwood this year. It’s not that far a walk.” 

Nesta nods, grabbing the last of Feyre’s bags and closing the trunk. Before Elain can wheel off with her bags, Feyre’s wrapping an arm around each of her sisters’ shoulders, a wide smile plastered across her face under her U of P baseball cap. 

“The Archeron sisters are back together again!” 

“Well, until Nesta graduates,” Elain reminds Feyre. 

“Maybe she’ll do a fifth year, just for us.” 

Nesta just raises an eyebrow at her sisters’ antics. A fifth year? Impossible. Not only because she takes her studies very seriously, keeping her GPA well above the average, but because the idea of spending an extra, unnecessary year in this place sounds like her own personal circle of hell. The sooner she can finish her degree and get on with the rest of her life, the better. 

“Alright,” Feyre concedes. “Bad suggestion.” 

With a wave and a promise to meet up for dinner later, Elain is off towards Oakwood Hall. Nesta hoists one of Feyre’s duffle bags onto her shoulder, following her youngest sister toward her own dorm hall. As she steps up onto the sidewalk, though, her shoulder collides with a firm body, Feyre’s bag almost falling out of her grip. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Nesta seethes. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” a voice calls in return, already swallowed up by the groups of students moving in and out of the dorm hall. 

Nesta rolls her eyes at the saccharine nickname, resettling the duffle on her shoulder and catching up to Feyre. Her sister’s dorm reminds Nesta of her own freshmen dorm from back in the day, simple and small, all white walls and plain wood furniture. Despite the things already in the room, Feyre’s roommate is nowhere to be seen. 

“Do you need help with anything else?” Nesta asks, dropping the bag she had been holding onto Feyre’s bed. 

“I should be good. Orientation starts in a few hours.” 

A moment passes as the two sisters stare at one another. They aren’t exactly the most affectionate of families, hugging and that sort of thing. So with a small nod and smile, Nesta is on her way, back out of the dorm hall and to her car. 

Luckily, the off campus apartment she’s staying in this year isn’t that long a drive, and when she walks through the door, Emerie is already inside, leaning against their kitchen counter, a fork poised between her fingers and what looks like a slice of chocolate cake perched on a plate. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Emerie drawls, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips gives away the teasing nature. 

“Hope you brought enough to share,” Nesta replies, eying up Emerie’s plate. 

“Do I look like I’m made of money? Go to the dining hall and get your own.” 

“When’s Gwyn meant to get in?” 

“Not until later this week. I’m surprised you’re on campus this early.” 

“Feyre has orientation this week. Plus I need to hit up the bookstore. I have Williams this semester.” 

“That man seriously needs to get that stick out of his ass when it comes to having the “right edition” for his class.” 

“Tell me about it,” Nesta sighs, sneaking her hand into the utensils drawer and then snagging a bite of Emerie’s cake before the female has a chance to react. 

“Hey!” Emerie calls after Nesta as she retreats to her room. “You’re lucky I like you, Nesta Archeron!” 

~ * * * ~

The campus bookstore is mostly filled with parents and baby-faced freshmen trying to decide which University of Prythian gear to spend all their money on, but once Nesta pushes back to where the shelves of textbooks live, the throngs of bodies thin out. She can’t help but run her finger along the spines of the books, all lined perfectly along the shelves. Each spine is a different color, a different texture, bold or curvy font declaring its title to the world, and while many are textbooks, that feel under her fingers is still a comfort. Like a heartbeat lives between the soft linen pages and beats in time with her own. 

A turn around the corner and Nesta finds the section of books she needs. She scans the different titles, and when her eyes finally land on the one she needs, she can’t help the long sigh that looses from her lungs. Of course, it’s on the very top shelf. Nesta reaches her arm up, stretching up onto her tip-toes until the pads of her fingers just brush the spine of the book, trying to inch the book closer to the edge where she could get it down. 

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

Nesta falls back on her heels in surprise, the voice and nickname snagging on her memory. She whips her head around to find a guy leaning against the shelf, arms crossed casually across his chest and a smug smile plastered across his face. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dark curls pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Nesta’s eyes can’t help but snag on the lines of ink dancing across the skin of his arms and peeking out of the open cuts of his bro-tank. When her eyes dance back to his face, his hazel eyes are alight like he had clocked and was delighted in what she had been doing. It makes her brain crash back into action, a scowl settling easily across her features. 

“You were the one who bumped into me earlier. Outside of Somerset Hall.” 

“That was you?” the guy asks, not even being subtle as he checks Nesta out. “My apologies. Let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner.” 

Nesta doesn’t even deen that with a response. With a scoff, she turns back toward the front of the bookstore. She can come back later for the book she needs, ideally when this insufferable man with his cocky grins and overconfidence is nowhere to be seen. As she weaves her way through the shelves and toward the exit, she pointedly ignores the heavy set of footsteps she can hear trailing behind her. 

“At least tell me your name.” 

“No.” 

“No? Well that’s definitely an interesting name. My name’s Cassian by the way.” 

“I don’t recall asking.” 

“You didn’t have to. Your eyes were asking for you.” 

That has Nesta halting in her steps. She whirls around and clearly her sudden stop has this Cassian thrown off, his own steps stumbling. Good. She likes having the upperhand. 

“Does that line actually work for you?” 

“Actually, I usually have to use less words. My ruggedly handsome looks do all the talking.” 

“Rugged? Sure. But handsome?” Nesta pointedly rakes her eyes down his figure, and when they meet back with hazel, Cassian’s cock-sure grin slips the barest hint at the corner. “I don’t think so. You looked like you crawled out of a dumpster.” 

Nesta expects his smile to fall fully at the jab, and she hopes it’s enough for him to leave her alone, but instead that smile is still stubbornly there. Even worse, it twists and shifts into a smirk, like this is all some kind of fun game. It makes Nesta’s heart give an extra kick in her chest, and before she can even think about dwelling on what that means, she turns on her heel. 

“Goodbye, Cassian.” 

“Goodbye, sweetheart.” 

~ * * * ~

On Thursday, Nesta finds herself at the dining hall. It’s a little late for breakfast and too early for lunch, so luckily the place is blessedly not too crowded, just a few pockets of students talking and laughing at various tables. She’s standing in front of the pastry display when her phone starts buzzing incessantly, and she slides it out of her pocket to find Feyre going off in their sister group chat. 

I just met the most attractive man I have ever seen

I’m not fucking around. HIS FACE 

And he called me darling

He asked me to drinks tomorrow night!

“I personally prefer the blueberry muffins.” 

Nesta snaps her attention to her left to find Cassian standing there, that same wide and cocky grin from the bookstore settled across his face. His hair is down today, soft curls framing his face and brushing against his cotton tee covered shoulders. 

“You again,” Nesta sighs. 

“Isn’t it funny how we keep meeting?” 

“Funny isn’t the word I would use.”

“It’s almost like the Universe keeps pushing us together.”

“Or you’re stalking me.” 

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” Cassian says, tossing a wink Nesta’s way. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“I thought we already established the fact I’m ruggedly handsome?” 

“Pretty sure the only thing we’ve established is that you’re full of yourself.” 

Nesta turns and snags one of the wrapped chocolate chip muffins out of the display case, fully prepared to end this conversation and enjoy her snack in peace. 

“You forgot something the other day, you know.” 

Nesta looks back toward Cassian where he has an outstretched hand between them. There, clutched between his fingers, is the book she went to the campus bookstore to pick up. She blinks a few times at the wide script proclaiming Art Through the Ages, the cogs in her brain tripping over one another and trying to comprehend the sight before her. Her hand begins to reach out to take the book before she snaps it back to her side, her eyes locking back on Cassian’s face. 

“You got the book I needed?” 

“The perfect excuse to find and talk to you again.” 

“Well, I can’t accept it.” 

“Then you can Venmo me,” Cassian says, leaning into Nesta’s space and pressing the book into her hands. “And your Venmo will have your name, won’t it? So it’s a win-win.” 

This close up, Nesta can see all the green vines and gold flecks that make up his hazel eyes. The way his nose sits just off kilter like it’s been broken and set not quite right and the stubble pushing through along his jawline. She can feel the warmth that seems to radiate off his person in rolling waves. It’s a bit overwhelming. 

“It’s Nesta,” she offers, taking a step back. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says, like he’s testing the weight of her name on his tongue. “Well, Nesta, how about that dinner? The offer still stands. Or we could skip straight to dessert.” 

Nesta lets out a snort at the comment. She’s sure the sound isn’t particularly attractive, but she can’t help it. The audacity of this man. 

“Only in your dreams,” Nesta quips, turning on her heel and heading toward the register to pay for her muffin. 

“Is that a promise?”

She pretends she doesn’t hear him as she swipes her meal card and makes for the dining hall exit. She can feel Cassian’s eyes tracking her the whole way. 

Later, when Nesta gets back to her room and is thumbing through Art Through the Ages, she finds a note folded up between the pages. She opens up the paper to find an unfamiliar scrawl, simple black lines spelling out ‘Cassian’ and ten digits. She hesitates for only a moment before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash. 

~ * * * ~

Classes start up on Monday, and Nesta is ready to throw herself back into her books, notes, and work. She has a jammed packed schedule this semester, knocking out the rest of her general education credit requirements needed to graduate on time. The perfect distraction to keep her mind busy. At least, she was able to squeeze in enough classes that actually interest her, including a course on Early Women Writers. 

On Tuesday, she walks into the science building and her chemistry class. She finds a lab table a few spots back from the front, settling onto one of the stools. She pulls her textbook and laptop from her bag and is just typing in her laptop password when she feels a presence behind her. 

“I guess I should thank you for coming through on your promise. The best dreams I’ve ever had.” 

Nesta can’t stop the pained sigh that pulls its way out her lungs. She rubs a hand down her face before turning to the right, just in time to find Cassian sliding into the stool beside her. He has another cotton tee on, his hair once again pulled up into a bun style. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking this class.” 

Cassian reaches into his backpack and pulls out his own chemistry textbook, holding it up as some sort of proof. 

“The Universe strikes again.” 

“So you keep saying, but clearly the Universe has bad taste.” 

Cassian throws his head back and laughs at the comment, surprising Nesta with his reaction and earning them a few curious looks from the rest of the class. The sound is deep and warm, seeming to radiate from deep within his chest. His shoulders shake like his large frame isn’t enough to contain the sound, and Nesta finds herself staring at the crinkles that appear beside his eyes. 

“Alright, class. Welcome to chemistry.” 

A hush falls over the whole room as the professor strides in the door and to the front of the room. She hands a small stack of syllabus sheets to each person sitting at the front to be passed back and a blank seating chart to fill in is passed between the tables. The professor goes through the syllabus for much of the allotted class time, and Nesta makes notes in the margins of hers about the grading system and circles the important deadlines she’ll need to remember. 

“I hope you’re comfortable with where you’re sitting and who you’re sitting with,” the professor addresses the class an hour later. “They’ll be your lab partner for the rest of the semester.” 

Nesta wants to groan as she buries her face in her hands. How did this become her life? As if simply seeing Cassian’s insufferable face three times a week for this class isn’t enough, now they actually have to interact and work with one another. If Cassian’s theory about this being the Universe's doing is correct, Nesta is pretty sure the Universe is just laughing in her face now. 

“Well, would you look at that, Nes,” Cassian drawls from beside her. “Another point for the Universe.” 

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” Nesta mutters from between her fingers. 

“As long as we get to cuddle a little beforehand.” 

“Cute,” Nesta says, putting as much dry sarcasm as she can behind the single word. 

“You know, lab partner,” Cassian offers while he stands up and slings his backpack across his shoulders. “I think it’s going to be a great semester.”

[letssingintherain]

empty dreams ➵ d.m.

you accidentally slip in draco’s bed instead of your boyfriend’s for some cuddles. 

pairing: draco malfoy x y/n (slytherin) x blaise zabini 

summary: draco has had a soft spot for you since year 3 but has to conceal it because his best mate starts dating you. it becomes harder to deal with after a heart-fluttering instance, making draco’s life quite a bit more miserable. 

contains: 3.5k words of angst and draco being a simp. NO cheating!! set in year 6 with no voldy. :)

song recs: dancing on my own - calum scott, hold me while you wait - lewis capaldi, somebody else - the 1975 (i listened to these songs and a few others for inspo)

Draco was terribly in love with his best mate’s girlfriend and it irritated him to no end. 

The infatuation started long before Blaise asked Y/N out, and to be honest, Draco had no clue exactly when it started. All he knew was that during his third year he began taking notice of the way your eyes sparkled with mirth, the way your hair caught the sunlight, the way your dimples lingered on your face after hearing a witty remark, and the way you showed selfless concern for everyone without being afraid to speak your mind. After that, he found it hard to focus on anything else but the beat of his pounding heart when you were talking to him. 

Draco never made a move because he was scared of losing your friendship. Y/N, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Daphne, Theodore, along with Crabbe and Goyle were the most tight-knit friend group in Slytherin. So it was easy for Draco to use the excuse of “keeping the friend group intact” and avoid ever confronting his feelings about you. Unfortunately for Draco, Blaise didn’t share the same sentiment and asked Y/N on a date to Hogsmeade a few weeks ago.  

~

You were chattering with Daphne and Pansy in the common room about the absurdity of the latest “Quibbler” when you heard someone approach you three. 

“Hey ladies, mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment?” Blaise flashed a charismatic smile at the trio and extended his arm to Y/N. You glance at the girls in surprise before taking Blaise’s hand. 

“No, not at all!” Daphne and Pansy share knowing looks while giggling. 

Feeling quite out of the loop, you follow Blaise outside of the common room, not sure what to expect. 

He gently let go of your hand once you two reached an empty hallway. Blaise turned around to face you and took a deep breath. 

“So I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now..I find you very attractive,” He said these words slowly while observing your reaction. “I’d love to get to know you more and take you on a date to Hogsmeade, if you’re okay with that?” 

Your were shocked by his proposal because you had never imagined Blaise Zabini to have feelings for you. You knew how many girls would wait nervously outside his classes hoping to catch a glimpse of him. You and your friends would even roll your eyes at the sight and tease Blaise about having a “fan club”. 

After getting over the shock, you looked at Blaise and thought about his words seriously. “Blaise is really attractive,” you noted the way his jumper with rolled up sleeves perfectly fit his body. “And I do always have a good time with him,” you added on after thinking of his sly humor and good-natured personality. 

“I’d be honored.”

~

Draco winced at the memory of the start of you and Blaise’s relationship. He worried that Blaise would follow his old pattern of dating girls just to dump them a few weeks later, but everyone else in the group assured him that he was overthinking. He had congratulated Blaise with a forced smile and a pat on the back while fuming inside. He couldn’t exactly blame Blaise though, it’s not like he confided to Blaise about his crush on you. 

Which is the reason why Draco is currently doing his best to remain focused on Professor Snape’s drawling voice and not look at you whispering to Blaise from the corner of his eyes. 

Blaise looked as charming as ever in his signature look—a dark green jumper with rolled up sleeves over a collared shirt, with his Slytherin tie poking out slightly. You looked like a princess with your flowing [y/h/c] hair and the green headband nestled snugly on the top of your head. You ditched the jumper and were just wearing a collared shirt with a Slytherin tie along with the normal green plaid skirt and knee-high socks. 

The sight of you two looking so attractive together made Draco feel cold and glum inside. And it didn’t help that the classroom was actually chilly and gloomy.

“You’d think they’d be able to at least afford some bloody heat lamps in this place, but I guess not.” Draco mumbled to himself in annoyance while blowing on his hands and rubbing them together. He was wearing the normal Slytherin uniform complete with a long cloak, but with a few special touches that displayed his status. He had a small snake enamel pinned on his tie that complimented the snake signet ring he always kept on his right ring finger. 

Most of the students at least made the effort to seem like they were focused on the greasy-haired professor, unlike you and Blaise. Snape finally noticed this and focused his eyes on you two. 

“Today we will be attempting to make the Elixir of Euphoria to practice for your NEWT level exams. It is a highly advanced potion so I suggest all of you give it your full attention.” Snape waved his cloak dramatically and glared at Y/N and Blaise. 

“I am talking about you two, Miss. Y/L/N and Mr. Zabini. Or is whatever you’re so feverishly discussing more urgent?” Snape’s comment earned a scoff from Draco while the whole class looked back at the couple. 

“No, professor. Sorry.” You and Blaise grinned sheepishly and moved slightly apart, eyes gleaming when you exchanged glances. 

It physically pained Draco to see you two act so close. He wished that he could be the one to bring a smile to your face, to shower you with affection, and to spoil you endlessly with his wealth. And he wished you could be his person to comfort him when he felt down, to run your hands through his silky platinum hair, and to assure him that he was enough and everything was okay. 

But these were all delusions, and all he could presently do was sulk and twirl his ring while he fixed his gaze to the front of the room. 

Snape huffed and turned around to stand behind his desk. He tapped his cauldron two times with his wand, filling it up with a glowing yellow substance that resembled sunlight. 

“Your instructions are on the board along with some tips, and your ingredient list is in your textbook.” Snape flicked his wand at the blackboard, revealing intricate steps in tiny font that filled up the entire board. The class groaned at the sight and reluctantly opened their dusty books. 

Daphne worked with Pansy, Crabbe paired up with Goyle, and of course you partnered up with Blaise, which left Theodore unlucky enough to face Draco’s wrath. 

Theodore slipped in the seat beside Draco and slapped him on his shoulder.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing, because I bloody well don’t.” Theodore chuckled, hands crossed behind his head while leaning back in the chair. 

“Of course you don’t. Just try not to get in the way, yeah?” Draco snapped impatiently and squinted to read the board. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” Theodore dismissed Draco’s attitude for his usual cynicism. He absentmindedly looked around in the classroom, eventually spotting you and Blaise. 

“Oi, Y/N and Blaise are snogging!” He pointed out, entertained by the sight of some of his closest friends kissing. 

Draco smashed the shrivelfig to a fine powder before realizing that he meant to only chop it. He cursed under his breath and reached for a new one. 

Theodore noticed Draco’s strange temper and remarked, “What’d the shrivelfig do to you, mate?” Draco glared at him, causing Theodore to raise his hands in defeat and back away from the cutting board. 

Draco couldn’t resist peeking at you two and immediately regretted it after he confirmed you two were indeed getting cozy. He sneered in distaste before feeling his heart ache painfully. Draco tried to ignore the ache as best as he could and resolved to focus on his potion. 

...

“Let’s see if any of you possess the talent of a potion-brewer.” 

Potions class was finally coming to an end, and Snape wandered around to check everyone’s results. Only a few cauldrons resembled the desired bright yellow color and Draco’s was sadly not one of them. Draco and Theodore stared at their dark orange concoction while exchanging grimaces. 

“You may try a sip of your elixir. It should induce silly giggles and an overall mood-boost.” Snape observed you and Blaise’s sunshine-yellow potion, showing silent signs of approval as he glided away. 

Draco scowled at the sight and downed a whole bottle of his own potion out of pure spite. After a few moments of regret and apprehension, his nose started to bleed profusely. 

“Ahh, what’d you do that for?” Theodore hastily handed a towel to Draco, who groaned and leaned his head back to slow down the flow. 

“Nothin’...thought it’d be safe.” Draco’s voice became nasally due to the blood spouting from his nose. 

“Mr. Malfoy, please see Madam Pomfrey before you bleed out in my class.” Snape glanced down at Theodore and Draco, tilting his head at the door. 

“Yes, sir.” Draco muttered while covering his nose with a towel, passing by you and Blaise on the way out. 

“Hey, Draco’s got a bloody nose!” Blaise pointed out in amusement while you giggle next to him. Normally Draco would respond with a witty jab, but he really wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

“Shove off, Blaise,” Draco spat in a hostile manner, feeling ashamed at his disposition. He proceeded to hurriedly exit the room, leaving you and Blaise confused.  

“Maybe his elixir had the opposite effect?” Blaise shrugged it off. 

...

It was night-time and Draco had visited Madam Pomfrey’s three times to no avail. 

“I’ve told you this already but I’ll repeat myself once more, Mr. Malfoy. You’re just going to have to let it bleed out by itself.” She passed him several blood-replenishing potions to drink over the course of the night. 

“What’s the use of a healer if they advise you to bleed out?” Draco thought in annoyance before accepting the potions. 

Blaise offered Draco to switch beds to be closer to the bathroom, in case he were to keep bleeding throughout the night. Draco accepted begrudgingly, annoyed at how his feelings for you made it difficult for him to fully appreciate Blaise’s kind actions. 

Though he knew it wasn’t Blaise’s fault, Draco couldn’t help but be bitter towards his best mate.

“It must be the jealousy,” Draco admitted sullenly while laying on Blaise’s bed, observing how he was facing the windows of the Black Lake instead of his usual position of lying next to them. 

The lake lapped at the windows soothingly, giving the dorm room a dappled green glow. The room had several mahogany four-poster beds and was decorated lavishly thanks to the generous donations by Slytherin alumni. Draco was the only one in the room so it was filled with a peaceful silence that implored sleep.  

Draco’s sleepy haze caused his mind to unconsciously drift to images of you and Blaise. How you two would hold hands while walking to class, jokingly feed each other food in the Great Hall, and even kiss during Potions. He irritatedly turned over, forcing himself to focus on anything else. 

After listening to to the waves of the lake for a few more minutes, he couldn’t help but give in to the pull of sleep. 

“Stop it!” Y/N flustered and pushed his chest. “It’s a common mistake.” 

Draco chuckled and held your wrist. He pulled you closer to him and took advantage of his towering height over you by tilting your chin up. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I found it quite endearing.” He smirked at the blush in your cheeks. He reached down to wrap his hands over your waist, feeling your hards cross over his neck. 

Draco indulged in the smell of your hair, taking in the clean notes of your perfume. He hugged you tighter, not wanting to pull apart. 

Draco was waken up from his dream by the sound of a yelp and opened his eyes groggily. To his surprise, he met the [y/e/c] eyes of Y/N, who seemed even more taken aback than him. 

Draco immediately backed away, bewildered at how this happened. 

“Draco! Why are you in Blaise’s bed?” Your eyes were wide open and Draco inappropriately noted how they were even more beautiful close up. You slid off the bed before turning around to face Draco with your arms crossed. You were still clad in your normal uniform while he was in a loose white tee and gray sweatpants. 

“He switched with me so I can get to the bathroom quicker because my nose keeps bleeding.” After saying this, he felt blood rush to his head that was undoubtedly about to come out of his nose. Draco sat up on the bed, feigning ease in the hope that it was an illusion. 

“Why’d you pull me closer then?” You asked curiously, embarrassed that you accidentally climbed in bed with the platinum blonde boy. 

“I don’t know, it was a dream, Y/N! Why would I push someone away in a dream?” Draco threw his hands up exasperatedly, also embarrassed that he unknowingly cuddled you. 

You felt your lips curve upward, finding the situation humorous. Draco saw this and started grinning too. To his horror, blood began spurting out of his nose, making him rush to the bathroom. Y/N followed him closely, both worried and curious at his infliction. 

After reaching the sink and letting the blood out, Draco exhaled in relief. He turned to his side and looked into your eyes, suddenly resisting the urge to laugh. You looked so cute looking up at him with wide-eyed concern. You meet his eyes with a grin and you two finally laughed freely at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. 

“I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable, Y/N. I’ll be more careful next time I switch beds with Blaise.” Draco teased while playfully nudging your shoulder. 

You shifted your weight on your feet and shook your head, “No, it was my fault too. I should’ve checked the hair color before getting in bed.” You reached up to ruffle Draco’s fluffy white-blonde hair amusedly. 

Draco felt his heart involuntarily skip a beat at the sudden contact and shifted away from Y/N. He cursed himself internally for showing signs of his infatuation and couldn’t bring himself to make a response. 

“Um...You wouldn’t happen to know where Blaise is right?” Y/N broke the silence, perplexed at the sudden awkwardness. 

Draco tensed at the mention of Blaise. 

“No.” He replied coldly before walking back into the room without making eye contact with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, deliberately gazing towards the windows of the lake and nowhere else. 

You were puzzled at the sudden coldness but didn’t dwell on it, assuming he was moody because of his pesky predicament. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go find him.” You tentatively walked to the door of the dorm. “Feel better, Draco!” You gave him a small smile before leaving the room and closing the door with a soft click.  

Draco waved slightly, not wanting to reveal any more emotions. After making sure you had left, he threw himself on the bed frustratedly. It didn’t help his obsession that he felt the emptiness of the bed more clearly now. It also didn’t help that he has a memory of your eyes close up. It definitely didn’t help that he remembered the scent of your perfume. 

He sighed before turning over, silently vowing to let go of his feelings for you, both for his sake and Blaise’s. His vows were greeted by the silence of the dorm, quiet except for the gentle lapping of the lake. 

He didn’t think it was possible, but the ache in his heart grew. 

“It’s got to get worse before it gets better, right?” Draco sighed once more, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

...

Months go by, and Draco was proud at how he successfully suppressed his feelings. You no longer took up the majority of his thoughts and he could finally return to being his snarky self with Blaise. 

Draco hung out with the group as if nothing was wrong, and no one seemed to notice anything different. The group maintained the old dynamic of sarcasm and witty humor, reflecting Draco’s wish of “keeping the friend group intact”. 

He was strolling around with his buddies in his usual air of haughtiness when he noticed Pansy and Daphne quietly whispering about you in the corner of a hallway. 

“...Can’t believe Blaise said that..Poor Y/N...” They sighed, clearly worried about what happened to you.  

Draco’s felt a familiar tightening in his heart he thought he got rid of. He ditched his other friends and walked towards the two, apprehensive to learn about what happened.  

“What’d he do?” Draco demanded, his imperative demeanor taking Pansy and Daphne by surprise. 

“I’m not sure if she’d want us to tell anyone yet.” Daphne hesitated, unsure of what to say. 

When Draco realized they weren’t going to give up any clues he scowled and strode off, deciding to ask you himself. 

He walked briskly in the stone hallways of the castle, thinking of places you could be. He knew you loved the stars, but it was still bright outside, so there was no reason for you to be in the Astronomy Tower. He knew you loved the serene setting of the Black Lake, but it was bound to be infested with underclassmen on a sunny day like this, which you wouldn’t like. He realized you must be in the garden, recalling the way you always looked at the flowers in adoration.

He picked up his pace and walked swiftly in the direction of the garden. His thoughts made him restless on the way there, “What could Blaise have done?” 

He added another thought hastily, “What can I do without crossing a line?” 

He spotted you in the garden before he figured out the answer to his question. 

Draco watched as you sat on a stone ledge directly facing the wisteria flowers. The flowers were not yet in full bloom, so the tree was scattered unevenly with buds and flowers. You distractedly dangled your legs in the air and flourished your wand to enchant flower buds to grow towards you. Your eyes were glossy and your face was tear-stained, but Draco thought he had never seen you look more ethereal. 

He reached you in time to see your charm work too ambitiously, making the flowers blossom and wilt in mere seconds. You started to break into tears, hugging your body close. Draco slowly approached you, but you were too busy crying to notice. 

“Hey.” Draco said hesitantly. 

“Oh! Hi, Draco.” You wiped your eyes furiously and looked up at him. You gave a tiny smile that looked more like a grimace. 

The sight of you being so sad made Draco miserable as well, feeling the tug at his heartstrings. 

“What happened?” Draco asked in an empathetic tone and took a seat next to you on the ledge, making sure to give you ample space. 

“Blaise..broke up with me. He said he just wants to be friends. How could he say that after months?” You said bitterly, tears sliding down your face.

Draco noticed the drops of water gliding down your face and had to use all his willpower to refrain from wiping away your tears. He hated that a guy made you feel like this, especially because it was his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Draco awkwardly reached out to rub your shoulder in soft circles. 

You leaned against his hand on your shoulder, sniffling quietly. 

You two stay like this for a while, before Y/N scooted closer to Draco, burying your head in his chest and clutching his white dress shirt while emitting muffled sobs. 

Draco’s heart broke at the sight, holding you closer to comfort you. He secretly cursed Blaise out before feeling guilty. He felt like an accomplice as he watched you let your pain out. 

How did he let you get hurt? 

You cried some more before looking up at Draco with teary eyes. 

“I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.” You smiled in an embarrassed manner and moved away from him. He noticed how your lashes were slick with tears and how your nose and cheeks were rosy from crying. He felt his heart rate quicken after glancing at your swollen lips, and quickly averted his eyes before blushing slightly. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. You two look at the wisteria trees, feeling the breeze flow through both of your hair. Draco understood why you liked this spot, it was quiet and came with a stunning view of the trees and flowers. It was a beautiful day out, sunny with some clouds floating lazily. You both bask in comfortable silence. 

“I just feel...hollow? Like I'm missing a part of myself,” You confessed eventually, wearily twisting around to look at Draco.  

He nodded knowingly, very familiar with the empty feeling you were describing. He turned to make eye contact with your wounded eyes, feeling just as much heartbreak and pain as you did. 

Even though Draco hated seeing you with Blaise, he couldn’t help but feel like he hated seeing you heartbroken even more. 

a/n: this is the first fic i’ve ever written, so i feel quite nervous publishing it. if you read this far, i appreciate you so so much <33. i’m thinking of writing a sequel to this with more fluff and possibly more focus on y/n’s perspective, so let me know your thoughts! :) 

edit!: hi lovelies, i’ve decided to write more parts to this fic! thanks for all the love and lmk if you want to be tagged <3    [read pt.2 here]

(also, i know slughorn should be the potions professor during their sixth year but i just felt like snape fit the story a bit more!)

-k.z.

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

[pregnant-piggy]

Summer Games - one

Blaise Zabini x reader

masterlist

warnings: mentions of food, no pronouns used

A/N: because apparently I can’t write short fics anymore, i turned his idea into a short series! different from the last series, this one is fluffy and light-hearted. I hope you like it!

written for @omgrachwrites​ writing challenge with the prompts: ‘I can’t have this argument with you again.’ ‘But—’ ‘No, I’m done.’ and ‘Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought  I should move it so I could see you better.’

word count: 5.4k

Rain was pouring down from the skies outside, and had been all week. Dark grey heavens had been the ceiling to the world for seven days already and it didn’t seem like it would get any better anytime soon. For May the weather was dull and grim—the complete opposite of the year before when the sun had been out already in March.

Not that many seventh year students were outside anyway. With the exams approaching fast, most time beside classes was spent in the library or in the dark common rooms. To get the students outside after all, the school had decided that despite the rain all outside classes would continue.

Hence you were slipping and sliding over the soggy grass on your way back from Herbology to the castle for lunch, trying to keep up with Pansy who seemed to have less trouble than you. That, however, was not what was bothering you.

‘Come on, Pansy. You know it would be fun! It’s our final year, it’ll be nice!’

Pansy sighed as she caught your arm and pulled you back to your feet after you’d nearly slipped. Nevertheless there was a small smile on her face and you felt like doing a dance, had you not been standing so weakly on your feet.

‘Fine,’ she gave in and you cheered. ‘But good luck trying to convince the guys, if you mention “Summer Games” once more they’ll ignore you for the rest of the day.’

The Summer Games were the annual week-long festival in your grandparents’ hometown. You had been begging your friends to come along with you for years now, but they always found reasons  to not come—the most used one being ‘it’s stupid’. Every year when the end of the school year was approaching your friends would feel it coming and never intentionally brought up the subject of the summer vacation. However this year you wouldn’t just leave it there. You really wanted your friends to come and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

‘I’ll just use my charming personality,’ you smirked as you followed Pansy to the big table in the Great Hall. ‘They can’t resist that.’

‘Well, Blaise for sure can’t.’

‘Shut up,’ you mumbled as you sat down next to Pansy and she shot you a sly grin.

You chatted with Pansy for a while as you waited for Draco and Blaise to return from their potions class. Meanwhile you tried to come up with ways to convince them, but when they finally arrived you hadn’t many more thoughts than before.

‘Merlin, I’m starving,’ Blaise grumbled as he slumped down on the bench and immediately reached for the food in front of him.

Draco took the seat next to him and shook his head disapprovingly. ‘You don’t know how much I’ve heard that in the past hour. He’s terrible.’

‘Not as annoying as y/n was trying to get me to come with them to their grandparents in the summer,’ Pansy sighed, spooning sugar into her tea.

‘Oh not this again,’ Draco whined and you shot him a mad look.

‘I’ll have you know that Pansy agreed with me actually,’ you said, triumphantly smiling at your friend. ‘So now all you have to do is stop being so stubborn and agree to come.’

‘Never,’ Draco swore, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘Draco, please! It will be fun! It’s our final school year; don’t you think we should do something together?’

‘I can’t have this argument with you again!’ Draco cried out exasperated, throwing his arms up in the air.

‘But—’

‘No, I’m done,’ Draco said and he raised his hand to stop you from talking.

You whimpered sadly and desperately turned to your other friend, who had been solely focused on his lunch and hadn’t joined in the argument. You put up puppy eyes and pouted your lips as you looked at Blaise. ‘Blaise?’

He looked up and you could have sworn something flickered in his eyes when he looked at you. Slowly he lowered his fork and turned from you to Draco and back to you. You were still pouting and Blaise chuckled at your face, making your cheeks burn.

‘Please, Blaise? You wouldn’t turn me down, would you?’ you asked sweetly and tilted your head to the side a little. Next to you, Pansy scoffed softly and you kicked her shin, causing her to hiss in pain.

Blaise stayed silent for a while as he contemplated what to say, but eventually he shot you a small smile and shrugged. ‘I guess it wouldn’t be too bad…’

/\/\/\

The sun was shining fiercely down on the roof of the bus shelter and the beams were even hotter through the glass. Trees were nowhere to be seen on the side of the road so shadow was a scarce thing.

Draco stood next to you and even though he had arrived ten minutes earlier, you still weren’t done laughing. In all the years that you had known Draco not once had you seen him in shorts, so when he had crossed the street to the bus shelter at first you hadn’t even recognised him. Then when you had noticed Draco’s face you had started to laugh so hard that your backpack had slipped from your shoulder and you had nearly fallen to your knees.

Draco was wearing black shorts and underneath stuck two very pale legs that you thought had never seen daylight before. But that wasn’t what was so bad about it; after all pale legs were just a natural thing. The bad thing about it was that above it Draco was wearing an orange, flower-patterned shirt that clashed terribly with his skin colour and on top of it all a bucket hat, something that surprised you Draco even had it, let alone wear it.

It was such a difference from the always neat Draco you knew that you hadn’t even heard his explanation over your laughter. And now he was scowling at you as you picked up your bag from the ground.

‘It’s hot, y/n,’ Draco tried. ‘You seriously don’t expect me to wear black pants in the summer, do you?’

‘Is this what you wear at home too? Does your dad dress this way as well?’ you snickered and sat down on the little bench in the bus shelter.

‘Oh, shut it,’ Draco said and he turned away from you.

Next to arrive was Blaise. You waved at him as he walked into the street and a big smile formed on his face when he recognised your figure. You blushed and quickly averted your eyes, but Draco had already seen it and he was laughing at you.

‘Did the other seniors enjoy the cruise as much as you?’ you shot back and Draco turned red, grumbling something as he turned away.

Blaise walked up to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder—something he usually never did. Blood rushed to your head and you could only smile giddily while trying to not let your heart explode.

‘Am I the first one to arri—’ Blaise started but his eyes widened when he saw Draco in his orange shirt. ‘Wow, where’d you get that shirt? You look like an orange threw up on you.’

You chortled and slapped your hand over your mouth, while Draco looked angrily at his friend. Blaise’s chest moved up and down as he laughed and you felt his low chuckle in your bones. Before you could do anything embarrassing you disentangled from Blaise’s arm and looked into the street, seeing if Pansy was there to save you.

However it took another five minutes before Pansy arrived and in those five minutes you listened to Blaise coming up with more jokes about Draco’s shirt. You laughed when Blaise started to attack the bucket hat and when Pansy finally joined the group you were wiping the tears from your eyes. Blaise was looking at you with an exultant smile and you blushed, shaking your head lightly at the terrible jokes.

‘Oh Merlin, why are you wearing that, Draco?’ Pansy cried out as soon as she stood at the bus shelter. ‘Is that why we never get pictures of you in the summer?’

‘It’s a perfectly fine shirt!’ Draco scoffed. ‘Why aren’t we attacking Blaise on his green shirt?’

‘Because he looks good in it,’ you said without thinking, receiving two surprised stares from Pansy and Draco and a thankful smile from Blaise. ‘You don’t, Draco, like really not.’

‘Alright, alright,’ Draco said, throwing his hands up in defence. ‘I won’t wear this shirt anymore. Is that what you want?’

‘I’d rather you throw that shirt away, but alright,’ Pansy said and she took her bag as the bus arrived. ‘That will do for now.’

The four of you got on the bus with all your bags and you shot the driver an apologetic smile as Draco entered the bus swearing behind Pansy, trying to get back at her. You followed after him and pushed him in his back, forcing him further into the bus.

Pansy took place in a seat at the end of the bus and Draco quickly sat down next to her and started to talk to her, but you didn’t miss Pansy’s mischievous smile as you sat down and had to make place for Blaise. He sat down next to you with a sigh and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet.

You weren’t not used to sit next to Blaise or be in close proximity, but every time it happened you felt your heartbeat pick up and your cheeks get hotter. Sometimes you wished to go back to a time when that didn’t happen, though if you were honest you also liked the way Blaise made you feel. It was a dangerous game, but you enjoyed playing it.

‘How long to your grandparents?’ Blaise asked as he stared at the board above the exit of the bus that showed the route and the stops of the bus.

‘It’s one of the last stops,’ you said, leaning back in your seat. ‘If there isn’t too much traffic I think we’ll be there in two and a half, maybe three hours.’

‘Hmm,’ Blaise hummed and he took his backpack from the floor, unzipping it. ‘Good thing I brought these then.’ And he pulled out a box with your favourite cookies, shaking them in front of you.

‘Oh, Blaise you are amazing!’ you exclaimed and wrapped your arms around him. ‘Did you get these for me?’

Blaise chuckled as you let him go and opened the box. ‘Well, actually they’re for Draco, but then he decided to wear that ugly shirt.’

‘You know, just because I am not sitting next to you, doesn’t mean I don’t hear what you say,’ Draco said and you looked past Blaise to the angry blond.

‘I know,’ Blaise said drily and he gave you a cookie.

You spent the bus ride talking with Blaise and playing travel scrabble. Pansy had finally let go on Draco’s shirt and after a while he lost his grumpiness and joined Blaise to destroy you in the scrabble game. You shared sweets and stories; Draco told how he had applied for a job at the store that sold potions ingredients in Hogsmeade, Pansy had an elaborate story on how she had gotten into a fight with her sister because she had refused to help her with her homework and after your friends had begged, you told how you had seen Neville Longbottom throw up before he had had to give a speech at the graduation at the end of the school year.

‘Poor kid,’ Pansy said and she shook her head. ‘I hope he overcomes his insecurities. It is no life he lives.’

After almost two and a half hours, the bus drove off the main road into the green countryside of the town your grandparents lived in. The sun was setting lower in the sky and it shone through the window on your left, illuminating Blaise’s face with a golden light. He was leaning his head back and had his eyes closed. The sunlight lay as a feather light blanket over the features of his face.

You couldn’t look away. Entranced by the beauty of the boy next to you, you fell into a haze. Your surroundings disappeared into a blur of colours and soft sounds and all you could focus on was Blaise’s sun-kissed face. It costed all the strength in your body to not reach out and brush your fingers over his cheeks.

‘y/n?’

You shot up from your daze and shook your head. If you couldn’t keep yourself together this would be a difficult trip.

‘Aren’t we near our stop?’ Draco asked and you looked past Blaise at him.

Outside the plain meadows with cows and sheep had changed for the cobblestone roads. The bus was approaching a little village that was coming nearer with the minute. The first lonely farmhouses stood next to the road, with front yards full of blooming flowers and colourful curtains behind the windows.

The bus stopped before entering the village, where the streets were so narrow it wouldn’t fit. There was a little square where the vehicle made a turn to leave in the way it came later. With a shock the bus came to a halt and Blaise’s eyes fluttered open.

‘We’re here, sleepy head,’ you said and nudged him with your elbow.

Blaise shot you a sleepy smile and he got up from his seat. He took your and his bag from above the seats and as he had his hands above his head, his shirt lifted and you could see his stomach and a small part of the waistband of his boxers. Taking a deep breath, you averted your eyes and busied yourself with the fabric on the bus seats.

All packed with your bags you stepped from the bus onto the square at the beginning of the village your grandparents lived. A warm sense of familiarity washed over you at seeing the houses. You only came here once a year in the summer, but all the memories you had of the village were ones you were fond of. The old houses and little streets always made you feel welcome, no matter how long you had been away.

‘Let’s go,’ you said and took your bag on your shoulders. ‘They’re waiting for us.’

/\/\/\

Sunlight peaked through the crack between the curtains, lighting up the bedroom. Blaise groaned and he turned around in his bed, blocking out the light by pulling his pillow over his face. The darkness pleasantly fell over his face and he would have fallen asleep again had it not been for Malfoy.

In the bed next to him, Draco was whirling and kicking against his bedsheets. Blaise had shared a room with Draco for seven years so he was used to the sounds of the boy in the morning, but that was when they were at school. Blaise wasn’t so fond of getting woken this early by Draco in the summer.

‘Shut up, idiot,’ Blaise grumbled from under his pillow and Malfoy’s movements silenced.

‘I can’t help it,’ Draco shot back, his grumpy tone laced with sleep. ‘These sheets are so uncomfortable!’

He started to move again and Blaise let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Spoiled little brat you are,’ he muttered. ‘These sheets are fine.’

‘Ugh, I guess they are “fine” but I’m just used to silk,’ Draco went on, still not lying still. ‘You don’t think they have those here, do you?’

Blaise lifted his head from under his pillow and shot Draco an angry look. ‘No they don’t and don’t you dare ask for it. y/n’s grandparents are so nice to let us stay here and you won’t be an ungrateful guest. Didn’t your mommy teach you manners?’

‘Fine,’ Draco said and he rolled his eyes.

After that Draco stopped moving around so much and content Blaise dropped his head back on his mattress. He pulled his pillow back over his head again, but before he could even let it go, the door opened and you burst inside. Draco squealed and pulled the sheets up to his neck as if he had something to hide.

‘Draco, please,’ you snickered. ‘I’ve seen much more from you.’

It was as if the sun itself had entered the room now you were here and Blaise turned on his back, putting the pillow under his head. You were still laughing at Draco who was grumbling and trying to pull his pyjama shirt straight. With a sleepy smile on his face Blaise watched as you rolled your eyes at Draco and then turned to Blaise.

‘Come on, guys! Breakfast is waiting!’ you exclaimed and smiled at Blaise before you left the room.

When you were out of sight, Blaise’s smile faltered and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Slowly and grunting he sat up in bed, stretching his arms over his head. The wooden floor squeaked under his feet as he got up and went to search for his clothes.

‘If I had known all those years that it just takes y/n to get you up in the morning…’ Draco started but a yawn interrupted his comment.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Blaise muttered as he pulled his shirt over his head. Fully dressed he made his bed neatly and felt Draco’s eyes on him as he did. ‘What?’

‘Are you wearing green again because y/n said that you looked good in it yesterday?’ Draco asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched Blaise intently.

Blaise pulled the sheets over the bed and looked up at Draco. He was still sitting in bed, wearing his satin pyjamas and his hair was a mess. Chuckling Blaise walked to the door and before he disappeared he said: ‘It doesn’t matter what I wear, next to you I always look good.’

Your grandparents’ house wasn’t as big as the farmhouses the bus had passed, but it was still big enough for the company. Draco and Blaise slept in one bedroom and you and Pansy slept in the one next to it. Your grandparents had a room on the floor above so you weren’t of any trouble to them at night.

Your grandparents were very friendly people. Yesterday they had welcomed their grandchild lovingly and after you had introduced everyone they had welcomed Blaise, Pansy and Draco with just as much love. Dinner had been ready already and Blaise hadn’t known what was better; the food at Hogwarts or your grandparents’ food. During dinner Blaise had talked with your grandmother and he had learned that your craziness for the Summer Games wasn’t just you; it was the whole village.

‘Good morning!’ you cheered from the kitchen counter when Blaise entered the kitchen.

He smiled at you and sat down next to Pansy, who was wearing a sly grin as she looked at Blaise and then at you. He grimaced and shook his head. Apparently his little crush on you hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.

‘Coffee?’ you asked as you got to the table with a pitcher of coffee.

‘Yes, please,’ Blaise said and he pushed the mug near his plate to you.

You filled it and then placed the pitcher on the table. While you sat down, Blaise took a sip of his coffee and welcomed the warm liquid in his body. Slowly he felt himself waking more and more and he could actually appreciate waking up this early for once.

‘Where are your grandparents?’ Blaise asked over his coffee.

‘My grandfather is in the garden and grandma is part of the organisation of the festival so she’s at the fields already.’

A silence fell over the breakfast table and the three of you drank your coffee and tea quietly, letting the sleep fade from your system. After five minutes the floors squeaked and Draco entered the kitchen with a grumpy look on his face.

‘Oh dear Merlin, we’ve awoken the monster,’ Pansy mumbled as Draco sat down at the table. She filled Draco’s cup with coffee and pressed it in his hands. ‘Drink this, it’ll keep the demons at bay.’

Breakfast went on silently and only when you were putting away the dishes after, Draco had got over his grumpiness. Blaise was helping you cleaning out the table and stood with his back towards to table when Draco spoke his first words of the morning.

‘Why so early?’

Blaise placed the plates next to the sink and turned around to you. You shrugged and collected the empty coffee cups while you answered. ‘The festival doesn’t start until twelve, so I thought I’d show you the village. Was it too early?’

‘No, of course not,’ Blaise answered quickly before Draco could open his mouth and this one shot him an angry look. Blaise chuckled and took the cups from your hands, placing them next to the plates.

You shot him a grateful look and then turned around to Pansy and Draco who were still sitting at the table. ‘Go on then,’ you said. ‘Let’s get going!’

/\/\/\

Out in the fields around the village the festival of the Summer Games had been built. The meadows that belonged to the farmers and were used for their cows turned into quite the happening in the summer. For a week the whole village would slow down their work and put most of their attention in the Summer Games.

It was nearing noon when Blaise and his friends got to the fields. All around were little booths with products of the people in the village, such as jars of honey, paintings of the hills and handmade wooden ornaments. The stalls were decorated with colourful garlands around the edges and handwritten signs. During your tour through the village Blaise had wondered why it had been so quiet, but now it was clear that everyone had been at the fields already—all the booths were occupied by at least one person behind them, arranging the final things before the festival would start.

At the back of the meadow a small stage had been placed. It was just enough for a little band to perform on and indeed there stood two men and a woman next to the stage, talking to who seemed to be the stage-manager. In front of the stage space for a dancefloor had been created and behind that stood a couple picnic tables.

‘Welcome to the festival!’ you exclaimed and turned around to your three friends. ‘Signing up starts in a few minutes I think, so we have some time to look around.’

Blaise looked aside to Draco and was surprised to find his friend actually interested by everything around him. This all wasn’t very Draco, but he seemed to enjoy it.

‘What do we need to sign up for?’ Pansy asked, as she linked her arm with yours.

‘The Games are played in teams,’ you explained, walking towards one of the stands with Blaise and Draco trailing behind you. ‘You play the games in the next days as part of a team and earn points for winning. The team that has the most points at the end of the week wins.’

You led your friends to one of the nearby booths that sold cherries and all things made of that. On the other side of the table stood a man in his early fifties, wearing a straw hat over his red, sunburned face. A wide smile spread on his face when he saw you.

‘y/n! How great to see you!’ the man greeted you and you smiled at him. ‘How are you?’

‘It’s good to see you too, Hank,’ you said. ‘I’m great! We arrived yesterday evening and we’re staying for the whole week.’

Hank looked past you at Blaise, Draco and Pansy and through his smile Blaise could see a golden tooth.

‘You finally convinced them to come?’ Hank asked you and he leaned back.

Pansy raised her eyebrow at Blaise and Draco and turned to you. ‘You talk about us here?’

‘Of course,’ you said and turned to your friends. ‘Everyone here knows I’ve been trying to get you here for years now.’

‘Well, that doesn’t make us look good,’ Draco mumbled and he held his hand over his eyes as he looked out on the field, like he was searching for people that were commenting on him.

Hank either didn’t hear or ignored Draco’s comment and he brushed away a wasp from his cherry pastries. ‘So you’re done now at that… Scottish boarding school of yours?’

You laughed softly and as you answered, Blaise’s stomach started to growl loud enough for everyone, including Hank, to hear it. They turned to him and he shot an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, can’t really help it.’

‘Don’t worry, boy,’ Hank said and reached for the plate with cherry pastries. ‘Take one on the house.’

Blaise wanted to decline out of courtesy but his stomach didn’t allow for him to be kind. He took a pastry of the plate and his friends followed after him. It was silent as you all took a bite, but after the first bite the silence was swapped for satisfied moans. The pastry was light and sweet, but a little sour from the cherries and Blaise swore it was one of the best things he had ever eaten.

‘This is amazing!’ Pansy moaned loudly and a passer-by shot her a weird look. She winked at them suggestively and they walked on quickly.

Blaise laughed at Pansy, but he couldn’t deny that he didn’t feel the same. The cherry pastries were a bit of heaven. He closed his eyes as he took another bite and when he opened them, he was met with your gaze. Immediately the blood rushed to his cheeks and he looked away.

‘Glad to know they are liked,’ Hank said. ‘My husband will be happy to hear that.’

From the stage something incomprehensible was said and you looked up. ‘Say hi to him from me!’ you said, while you made your way to the stage, waving at Hank behind you. ‘I’ll catch up with you later!’

Blaise followed you to the picnic tables near the stage and sat down next to you. His arm was pressed against yours as someone else sat next to him and he could feel his heart beating in his throat. He wasn’t a stranger from being close to you, but that didn’t mean that it did nothing to him. Every time he was touching you or sitting close to you his heart would leap and a strange sense of comfort washed over him.

Slowly the tables started to fill with people until there were no empty spaces left. It surprised Blaise to see how many people there were when the village hadn’t seemed that big at all. And it surprised him even more to see how many of those people knew you. Some came up to make a little chat and others just waved at you from their spot. You answered everyone with a big smile and Blaise grew happier the longer he looked at your smile.

Eventually you turned to your friends and explained what was going on. ‘It will start soon. The head of the organisation will shortly say something and then we have till six this evening to sign up for the teams.’

On the stage a tall, dark woman stepped behind the microphone and the chatter from the people at the picnic table fell silent. The woman tapped on the mike to make sure it worked and then said: ‘Hello and welcome to the fifty-sixth Summer Games!’

Blaise turned his head to you. ‘Fifty-sixth?’

‘Yeah, it’s been going for quite a while,’ you nodded and then a smile formed on your lips as you looked at Blaise.

‘What?’ he asked, afraid he had done something.

‘This year too has been organised by some of the greatest of our village,’ the woman on the stage went on, but the names were lost on Blaise as he watched you in anticipation.

‘It’s nothing,’ you chuckled softly. ‘You just—you got something on your cheek…’

Blaise’s hand immediately shot up to his cheek but he felt nothing. You were still looking at him and a cute giggle fell from your lips while Blaise attempted to clean his cheek.

‘Here, let me,’ you said and pushed Blaise’s hand away. You brought your hand closer to his cheek and cupped his jaw. Your fingers were light on his skin and once again that familiar feeling of comfort fell over Blaise.

Sooner than Blaise liked you pulled your hand back. On your finger was a dark red smudge from the cherry jam on the pastry. Blaise smiled sheepishly and shook his head a little embarrassed.

‘Thanks,’ he mumbled, feeling like his cheeks were on fire.

‘No problem,’ you said and you licked the jam off your finger without giving it a second thought before you turned back to the woman on stage.

‘Choose your team wisely,’ she said. ‘Tonight at seven we will announce the teams and tomorrow the first games will begin. For now I wish you a happy time at our festival!’

/\/\/\

There were four teams competing in the Summer Games. Each team had their own team captain, usually someone who had been playing in the Games for an extended period of time and knew how the games worked. For as long as you had been playing the Games you had been part of the Red Titans, a team led by Wyatt Holm, the town’s baker. Your team’s strongest opponents were the Sly Foxes. For the past ten years the point-difference between the Titans and the Foxes was minimal and it was always a neck-and-neck race. The rivalry between Wyatt and Alysia Gemeti, the Foxes’ team captain since three years, ran high during the week of the festival.

The other two teams were the Raging Angels and the Oiled Machines. You didn’t know where the names had come from, but they had been like that since the beginning and no one wanted to change them.

They had announced the teams an hour ago and you were walking back with your friends to your grandparents’ house. You and Pansy had signed up for the Red Titans, like you did every year, and you had figured the boys had too.

Only you had been wrong.

‘The Foxes?! Seriously?’ you cried incredulously. ‘You signed up for the Foxes? Why?’

Draco looked at you and shrugged like he didn’t really care. Blaise avoided your eyes as he was staring at his feet. You stared at your friends with faked anger. Although you had wanted all of you to be in the same team so you could play together, you guessed it wouldn’t be too bad to play against them. Plus, that would make winning even better.

‘It was Blaise’s idea really,’ Draco then said to which Blaise scowled.

‘No it wasn’t! You’re the one that blindly followed that girl!’

Curiosity got the better of you and you forgot to be angry for a moment. ‘What girl?’

Draco’s cheeks immediately changed colour and he looked away from you. He stammered something incomprehensible and started to walk a bit faster. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back, but Draco wouldn’t open his mouth again.

Pleadingly you looked at Blaise.

‘I didn’t catch her name but I guess she’s a little older than us. Light brown skin, dark hair and I wanna say dark eyes, but I’m not sure about that,’ Blaise said.

‘Alysia,’ you mumbled as you matched Blaise’s description with the picture of the Foxes’ team captain in your mind.

‘She was clearly interested in Blaise,’ Draco pointed out, his cheeks still red but seemingly more confident now.

‘Really?’ Pansy asked, shooting you a glare.

‘She wasn’t interested in me!’ Blaise shook his head. ‘She asked if we’d signed up for a team already. Then Draco started to stammer and turned red as a beet. He would’ve given her all his money if she’d asked.’

‘I would not!’ Draco cried out. ‘Now can we please change the subject?’

You chuckled at Draco’s exasperated face and looked past him at Blaise. He was watching you with a small smile and you felt butterflies erupting in your stomach. Quickly you turned away and stared at the pavement tiles under your feet.

‘So now we’re competing against each other?’ Pansy asked and you nodded. ‘That’s gonna be fun. We’re gonna demolish you guys.’

- - - - - - - 

taglist

general HP: @harry-pottery-barn​ @potters-heart​ @kingalrdy​ @missswriter​ @figlia--della--luna​@sexysirius​ @awritingtree​ @bi-andready-tocry​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @ananad1​ @treestarrrrrrrr​ @your-hispanichufflepuff​ @thefandomplace​ @theeicedamericano​ @girllety​ @moonstarrnghtsky @swearingsolemnly​ @weasleydream​ @secretsthathauntus​ @amixedwitch​ @izzyyy-1​ @gryffindorgirl​ @kitkatkl​ @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts​ @nyotamalfoy​​

MASTERLIST

[killing-all-joy]

Sometimes Having Terrible Aim Is Worth It

Pairing: Analogince Word count: 4,492 Logan uses he/they pronouns cw: swearing, snowball fights, mentions of murder, implied bad parents, i might have made lore for this at 1am while bored whoops

Overall, Roman and Logan were happy with their neighborhood. The location was convenient for both of their works (the theatre and the high school) and the environment was very lax. It was a low-crime, middle-class neighborhood with people who seemed very nice.

Roman, the sociable one, had made friends with many of the people on their block, only leaving a couple of houses alone. He had told Logan that all the people he had talked with were amiable people worthy of their friendship. So, Logan had accompanied his boyfriend during conversations with their neighbors on occasion, despite being an introvert with a general disappointment in the human race.

It wasn’t with ease that Roman was able to leave the house on their right alone. He had been warned not to bother the man who lived there as soon as he had moved in and started to make friends with his new neighbors. A blonde woman who Roman guessed to be about twenty years older than him had knocked on the door the evening after the two had moved in and given them the gist of the neighborhood. Her name was Janet, and she had told them about which houses had kids (as well as which kids were the best or quietest), how many people lived at each house, what each resident was like, and finally, about the man who lived next door.

Apparently, he was introverted and creepy, didn’t have friends, had the scariest Halloween decorations, worked at an age-old psychiatric hospital, and was rude and disagreeable. Janet had sufficiently discouraged Roman and Logan from interacting with him, but even if she hadn’t, the reports from their other neighbors would have done the job.

One kid said she had knocked on his door on Halloween, and he had opened the door and snarled at her with a realistic vampire outfit on, laughing evilly as she ran away. One mother said she had gone to his house to ask for a cup of sugar, and he had given her a cup of salt instead. Three kids all said they had seen him near the haunted house on Fridays. There was a rumor going around that he had killed the previous owners of the house Roman and Logan now resided in because their cat had made a small scratch on his car (Logan and Roman were less inclined to believe that last rumor; it was evidence-less, unlike the others).

But, other than the next-door neighbor they were both terrified of, Roman and Logan liked their living situation very much.

It was January, right in the middle of winter. The weather refused to let their area forget this fact; the week had started out with a snowstorm and after one day of pause, it had snowed every day for the next four days. It was now Friday, the fourth consecutive day of having snow, and the neighborhood kids had calmed about the state of the weather. Earlier in the week, Roman and Logan would often look out their window to find kids playing in the snow. Now, the excitement had dialed down and the kids were exhausted. The couple figured that sometime in the middle of the next week, the kids would be back to causing snowy chaos, but there was still almost a week until that hypothesis would be put to the test. At the current time, the block was quiet.

Roman appeared next to Logan, who was reading. He perched himself on the armrest of Logan's armchair and put an arm around his boyfriend.

"Hey, Logan?" Roman asked, taking a lock of Logan's hair and twirling it between his fingers.

"What is it you want, darling?" Logan replied, not looking up from his book.

Roman frowned. "I never said I wanted something."

"You called me Logan," he explained like it were obvious, "so, you want something."

Roman rolled his eyes, wishing his boyfriend wasn't so observant. "I want to have a snowball fight outside."

Logan raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on the novel in his hands. "I assume that you want me to join?"

Roman nodded. "Who else would I fight?"

"I also imagine you will annoy me about this subject until I acquiesce, or the snow melts?"

Roman nodded again.

"What's in it for me?"

Roman furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Well...maybe, after the fight, we can curl up next to each other on the couch in our blankets, hot chocolate in hand, and we can watch Doctor Who or whatever while we snuggle."

Logan bit his lip.

"You know you want to."

Logan rolled their eyes. "I most certainly do not."

Roman grinned at him cheekily. "Bullshit," he said sweetly, "now come with me."

He took the book from Logan's hands and set it on the table. He grabbed a receipt from nearby and put it on the open pages, before slamming the novel shut and pulling his boyfriend to his feet.

Logan made a noise of surprise as he was dragged to the door by his boyfriend.

"Roman, wait!" Logan exclaimed, putting a hand on Roman's arm. "Let me get my gloves and hat on first."

Logan, who was already in a blue patterned sweater and dark purple scarf, dashed to his and Roman's room. He opened his closet and picked out his navy blue beanie and red gloves. He put them on quickly, not wanting to have to deal with Roman's manhandling once again.

He raced back to Roman who was waiting for him at the door impatiently. When he saw Logan, his expression brightened to one of adoration.

"Oh my gosh, mi querido, you look adorable!"

Logan huffed. "I am not adorable."

Roman laughed. "Yes, you are."

Logan knew that arguing was hopeless.

They took the accusation to heart for a moment. "What if the neighbors see our fight and it ruins my reputation and they never take me seriously again?"

"One, they will be too far away from us to recognize you. Two, they won't care. Three, I'm going to be annoying you for the next two months about a snowball fight so if you refuse, they'll judge you for choosing someone as loud and annoying as myself as your boyfriend."

Logan nodded. "Fair enough."

The two exited their house. Logan put his arms around his torso and shivered, the sudden change in temperature shocking his body, but Roman ran ahead. He immediately crouched down to the ground and formed a snowball, aiming directly for Logan’s stomach, and missing by a couple of feet. Logan gave him a disappointed look.

Roman huffed and returned to building a snowball. Logan shivered again, watching the small flecks of white flutter down from the clouds above and land on their suburban neighborhood. Logan was removed from their thoughts when a snowball collided with his stomach.

He stumbled back half a step, but steadied his stance and glared at his boyfriend. Another snowball was thrown his way, but Logan dodged and watched it disperse against the door.

“You might want to join me in the yard, Specs, if you don’t want me to break a window.”

Logan followed his suggestion, running to the front yard and immediately forming a snowball. They threw it at their unsuspecting boyfriend who was in the process of making another snowball. It hit him square in the chest, making him fall backwards.

“Oh, you’re in for it, mi luz.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You’ve hit me twice, I’ve hit you once. I’m hardly the-”

A snowball to the lungs effectively shut them up.

---

Roman and Logan were hiding behind their respective walls of snow. Throughout the fight, they had been creating their own walls to hide behind to avoid getting hit. The fight would continue until either surrender or unconsciousness occurred, and both knew the former would be the hardest to achieve.

Since the two were both overachievers and never half-assed anything, their respective snow walls were two and a half feet high, roughly four inches in thickness, and approximately two feet wide. Roman had drawn an ‘R’ into his for dramatic effect, and Logan had hit the ‘R’ purposely with a snowball twice.

Neither knew how much time had passed, nor could they sense just how cold they were. All they could think about was demolishing their beloved in a violent war of snow, where only one could be crowned victor.

They were so unfocused that they didn’t notice a door opening and closing. Their eyes were so zeroed in on each other that Logan couldn’t see anything but his weapon and his target.

Logan knew the second the snowball left his hands that he would not land the shot. They were off by at least a couple of feet. They paid it no mind, however, and focused on evading Roman’s next attack.

The snowball landed with an audible smack.

That was unusual; dodged snowballs normally landed soundlessly on the ground.

What was also unusual was the yelp accompanying the sound.

Two shocked heads turned and watched as an unfamiliar man was thrown off his balance from Logan’s ruthlessly packed snowball. He didn’t fall to the ground, no, he was too scary and intimidating for that kind of humiliation to ever befall him. But, he was inconvenienced just enough so that Roman and Logan were terrified for their lives.

Logan hadn’t hit any old neighbor that lived on their block. He had hit the man who lived to their right.

The man who was evil, scary, probably a serial killer; the person that even the adults were scared of. He overdid Halloween, had no friends, and worked at a psychiatric hospital. He could probably kill them if he wanted to. According to the rumors, he had killed for lesser motives.

His eyes locked with both of the men at once, and Logan and Roman had never been more scared in their time together. He was terrifying.

With a black shirt, black jeans, black and purple hair, and a black hoodie, the man next door with tattoos creeping up his neck and black eyeshadow under his eyes looked very much the part the rest of the street had cast him as.

Logan and Roman were truly and undeniably fucked.

When the neighbor stopped glaring at them and walked to his car, Logan and Roman simultaneously craned their necks back to face each other, a terrified look in both of their eyes. Suddenly, all their competitive fire was extinguished and they looked at the snow on the ground with fear and regret instead of devious fun.

Their neighbor got something from his car and returned inside, casting sideways glances at Roman and Logan as he passed them. He slammed his door shut, causing both men to flinch.

From day one, the couple had been warned by kindergarteners and middle-aged women alike that they were unfortunate to be neighbors with the man next door. It was today that this was proven. All they could do was wait for their demise.

Roman threw a snowball at Logan’s face in anger at his actions and bad aim. For the first time in this fight, he wished he had been hit by that snowball.

There was a four minute period where the two were internally debating their options of either going back inside or apologizing to their fearsome neighbor. Occasionally, they would make eye contact with each other, but no words were actually spoken. Roman, the extrovert, considered knocking on his door to make a quick and hasty apology while Logan, the introvert, thought about writing an apology letter and sliding it under his door.

Neither of their ideas needed to be put to action, however, since the neighbor exited his house once again.

The two resisted the overwhelming urge to cower in fear. They had never seen him before, and now they had seen him twice in less than ten minutes? Clearly, they had ticked him off.

In an effort to not make it look as though they were staring, Logan and Roman stuck their gazes on each other. Each could tell that their partner was resisting their instincts telling them to run as far away as they could as fast as possible. But they couldn’t be rude—not when that man lived right next to them and could approach their house at any time. The serial killer rumors suddenly seemed more plausible.

What greeted them (or rather, Logan) instead, was a snowball to the back.

Logan, who was tenser than a taut rope, stumbled from the harsh impact. When he was able to regain his stance, his head whipped around to look at his attacker.

The neighbor had on, of all things, a smile.

He had discarded his hoodie for a fluffy black sweater with purple bats on it. He was now in a black beanie and had on midnight blue gloves. While his winter attire was surprising considering he already had a hoodie and didn’t seem to leave his house much, the mischievous smile was the most perplexing of all new things about their neighbor. Neither Logan nor Roman could make sense of it, except that it let them see the infamously creepy stranger in a new light.

Logan huffed out a bemused laugh, staring at the neighbor (who looked to be similar in age to them) like he was a gripping plot twist in a novel that unexpectedly ended happily. He shook his head a bit, but crouched down and formed another snowball. He made sure not to throw it as hard as the first one he had thrown at the stranger.

The man dodged it with ease, running closer to the snow-covered couple’s house. He swiped some snow off the porch rail and quickly packed it before throwing it at Roman, who was too busy being bewildered to do anything to dodge. He gasped in offense and coughed when the snowball collided with his sternum, and directed a playful glare at his attacker. He threw a snowball at him in return.

The neighbor easily dodged that one, but wasn’t able to dodge the snowball Logan had thrown his way. His attention switched over to the bespectacled assailant, looking at them just in time to see him throw another snowball at his boyfriend.

“How the hell did you make a snowball that quickly, cariño?”

“I have a snow wall, Ro. What do you think I put behind it? Action figures?” Logan retorted sarcastically.

Roman rolled his eyes and formed another snowball, sending it through the air and smack into Logan’s wall. “Every man for himself!”

The neighbor laughed at that, and the snowball fight continued.

---

As it turned out, Logan and Roman were at a disadvantage from already being out in the snow before their neighbor joined in. He was able to make them both surrender eventually, but not before Roman had aimed a snowball at a precise place on the back of his neck where the snow fell down the back of his shirt.

Logan was the wiser out of the couple and had surrendered first (not without a fight, though). He figured he deserved it; he had been the one to disturb the stranger, after all. This made him able to watch as both Roman and the stranger started to shiver more and more as the fight had continued.

When Roman finally did surrender, Logan laughed in his face and then put an arm around him. Logan took one hand in his and was able to tell his fingers were numb.

“You just never know when to quit, do you?” they sighed fondly.

“I did eventually!” protested Roman indignantly.

The stranger chuckled from beside him. “Would’ve been easier for your poor body if you’d surrendered when you knew you were gonna lose.”

It was the first time they’d heard him speak; snowball fights weren’t exactly the best place to start a conversation. His voice was low, about as deep as expected from a scary man in all black. However, it didn’t hold any fearful qualities or scratchiness like the kids had described. The couple thought it sounded like coffee on a cool winter’s morning (which didn’t make sense since coffee wasn’t a sound, but it was all that they could use to describe it, nonetheless).

“And when would that have been?”

“The second I joined in.”

Logan hid a laugh behind their hand. Roman glared at him for encouraging their neighbor.

“No idiot surrenders the second another person joins,” Roman muttered.

“Exactly,” the man said with a wink. Logan was able to spot him curling his arms around himself, probably from being cold.

Roman gasped loudly when he finally realized what the stranger was saying. “How dare you!”

He stumbled out of Logan’s arms and collected more snow off the porch railing, making it into a large, messy ball and chucking it at the stranger.

It hit his face. Not hard in any shape or form; no harm would be done, but it was still a bunch of cold water shoved in his face and falling into the front of his sweater.

The stranger furiously batted at the snow on his face.

“Serves you right,” Roman mumbled.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sorry, that must’ve been freezing.”

The man nodded.

“Come on in,” Logan invited, opening the door. “We can make you some hot chocolate.”

Roman rushed inside, running to the storage closet that had extra blankets.

“A-are you s-su-re?” the stranger said, syllables separate and repetitive from his shivering. The snow in his face caused his teeth to chatter.

“Of course,” Logan said, “it’s our—well, mostly my fault, that you got cold anyway. I’m Logan. He/they pronouns.”

Virgil chuckled. “L-log-an, h-uh? Was st-st-starting to thi-nk y-you were j-just gi-v-ven a b-bunch of p-pet names at b-birth.”

Logan blushed furiously, but laughed. Roman referred to him with Spanish terms of endearment more than he did his legal name.

“At this point, I might as well have been. I tend to respond to any unfamiliar word that vaguely sounds like Spanish now.”

They ushered the freezing stranger inside. Roman had returned from the storage closet with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and another under his arm. Logan took the blanket that wasn’t shrouding his shivering boyfriend and wrapped it around the stranger’s shoulders, who tugged it tighter around himself eagerly.

Logan went to the kitchen, putting three mugs of milk into the microwave and setting it for two minutes. They then returned to Roman and their neighbor who were shivering in silence.

“Thanks for joining us,” Roman said, “that was fun.”

“It was,” he agreed, shivering starting to calm down. “T-thank you for letting me p-participate.” Not fully, however.

“Of course,” said Logan, putting an arm on Roman’s shoulders. “I totally meant that snowball as an invitation. Fully intentional.”

The other two laughed, knowing that was a lie. The microwave beeped, and Logan left them to take the mugs from the microwave. He put the hot cocoa powder in and stirred the mugs, before picking them up.

He entered the living room to see that Roman had sat on the left of the couch and the stranger in the middle. Logan put their mugs in front of them and put down a mug for themself. He sat down next to the stranger.

“Might I ask your name, oh Master of the Snowball?” Roman asked.

The stranger snorted. “That’s much better than my name. My name’s Virgil. He/him.”

Logan smiled to himself. “Not at all, that’s a very nice name.”

Virgil choked on the hot chocolate he was sipping. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Fits your aesthetic,” Roman remarked.

Virgil opened his mouth, looking offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

It was obviously a joke, but Logan and Roman knew they had to tell Virgil of the rumors and his reputation. Especially now that they saw him as a good guy.

“Halloween,” Roman started to list, “everyday-is-spooky-season aesthetic, seems like the type of guy to work at a haunted house.”

Virgil scoffed. “Those places are stupid; not scary at all. If you want to go to a haunted house, make your house the haunted house.”

Well, now they had the Virgil-goes-to-a-haunted-house-weekly theory debunked.

“You do have ghosts on your sweater,” Logan supplied, taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

“They’re cute ghosts, though,” Roman said as soon as Virgil opened his mouth to argue. He pointed at one on his sweater. “See? Look at the lil’ faces.”

“My sister got it for me for Christmas.”

“If I knew your sister, that would probably explain the cute faces.”

“Oh, believe me, it would.”

Logan chuckled as he watched the two exchange conversation. He took another sip of his hot chocolate.

“So, um, I heard moving trucks outside your house about a month ago. Was that y’all? You new here?” asked Virgil.

“Affirmative,” Logan confirmed.

“Yeah, it’s our very first house together!” Roman said happily.

Virgil smiled. “That’s sickeningly adorable.”

“I am sickeningly adorable,” Roman said like it was a badge of honor.

“I agree,” Logan said.

A comfortable silence befell the group.

Virgil fidgeted, looking at Roman nervously. “Bit awkward question this far into the conversation, but I never caught your name-”

“Roman~” sang the man in question. He would have held the note out for an impressively long time if he didn’t take a sip of hot cocoa.

“Cool,” said Virgil awkwardly. “And I suppose, Roman and Logan, oh wow y’all’s names rhyme that is so romantic, anyway-”

Roman gasped, covering his mouth. His eyes lit up. “They do!”

“Are you just noticing this, Roman?” asked Logan.

“Of course!” Roman exclaimed in reply. “If I knew our names rhymed, I would have already written many a rhyming poem about our love.”

“That’s very nice, Love.”

“Don’t be snippy, mi cielo, you know you’d love it,” Roman huffed. “Virgil, don’t you think he’d love it?”

Virgil just rolled his eyes fondly, not wanting to get caught up in the middle of a lover’s spat.

“Don’t bring Virgil into this, Roman. You should put the subject aside, considering he was in the middle of saying something before you interrupted.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. Did our neighbors happen to...um...tell you what they thought of me? Ruin first impressions? It would explain your terrified expressions when we first saw each other.”

Roman and Logan looked at each other worriedly.

“...Maybe?” Roman asked quietly.

“There’s a small possibility...” Logan whispered.

“Y’all, I’m not mad if it happened, I just wanna know.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, yes they did.”

“What’d they say?”

“Multiple people said different things,” Logan began. “Janet talked to us first. She’s the blonde, short-haired, blue-eyed-”

“-Used to be a soccer mom, baby blue house?” Virgil asked. Logan nodded. “Met her when I first moved in, and once after that.”

“Her, yes. She told us, quite frankly, to not come near you.”

Virgil started to close in on himself. “Like how?”

“Said you were creepy, rude, introverted, no friends, freaky-as-all-hell Halloween decorations, apparently knew where you worked,” Roman told him, then noticed Virgil’s shrinking and stopped with the accusations. “I doubt almost all of that now, since you’re obviously not creepy and definitely have friends with that personality, but she may have been accurate with Halloween decor.”

“She was,” Virgil confirmed. “Go big or go home.”

“I believe you are normally home during Halloween, are you not?” asked Logan, confused.

Roman laughed. “Of course, mi amor.”

“Where do I work, in Janet terms?” asked Virgil, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Some old psychiatric hospital out of town.”

Virgil doubled over in laughter. He put his mug on the coffee table so it wouldn’t spill and held his head in his hands.

When he regained himself, still giggling, he replied.

“That’s inaccurate,” Virgil said plainly. “I don’t have a degree for that. See, there’s an old abandoned psychiatric hospital two miles away from the airport that is on the same road as the airport. It’s out of use, so that’s a stupid assumption to make. I guess I could maybe see why she made it though; I work at the airport.”

“Oh?” asked Logan, intrigued.

“Yeah, I’m an air traffic controller,” said Virgil with a shrug. “It ain’t that interesting. I recently got fully certified, though, which is cool. It pays well, I’m good at paying constant attention to things that could potentially end badly, and the high-stress comes from having to give my unwavering and full attention, which is something I can do well.”

“Less stressful than home and college, I guess, huh?” Roman guessed.

“Exactly, it's a spa compared to my parents,” Virgil said with a laugh. “But yeah, that’s hysterical. I definitely do not work at a psychiatric hospital.”

“I suppose what the kids said is untrue if what the adults said is false,” Logan mused.

“Oh dear lord, what did they say,” Virgil groaned.

“One girl told us about the rumor that you killed the people who used to live here,” Roman said, and Virgil immediately laughed. “Her mother said she asked for a cup of sugar and you gave her a cup of salt instead.”

“I hadn’t slept in five days and realized my mistake two hours later,” Virgil explained immediately. “I remember that one.”

Logan snorted. “One boy said you go to the haunted house on Fridays, which is obviously untrue.”

“Yeah. One, they’re stupid, two, that one’s only open in October and November, three, that one ain’t even scary. It has a good and free parking lot, though, and I volunteer at an at-risk youth center every Friday a couple blocks down that has really shitty parking.”

Roman shook his head. “Wow, we really got you wrong.”

“You were misled,” Virgil corrected. “It’s not your fault.”

“You know what, you’re right!” Roman agreed. “We were robbed.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of friendship,” Logan said, taking a sip from his drink. “Roman would have been banging on your door two days after moving, wanting to get to know you. But, after a momentous amount of ‘rude’ and ‘disagreeable’—” Virgil frowned, “—he was persuaded not to. Our loss, especially considering you are neither of those two adjectives.”

Virgil smiled. “Thank you.”

Logan looked into Virgil’s chestnut brown eyes, and was able to spot the specks of gray in them. They gave Virgil a warm smile. “For what? It is our pleasure to be given the chance to know you.”

Roman groaned. “I try 24/7 to be dramatic and you do it without trying.”

Virgil, blushing, giggled. “You’re both good at it.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m thrilled you think so, Nico di Angel-o.”

“Nico’s surname can be interpreted to mean ‘of the angels’ already, Roman, I don’t think you need to emphas-”

“Shhhh, Specs, let me shower our guest with compliments.”

Virgil’s face was on fire. “Do y’all have any movies?”

~

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @fander-fic-recs @neo-neo-neo

~

I wrote most of that when I went into a blur for three hours and looked at the time after I finished the draft to see that I had wasted all the time I had to do homework. It was worth it. I don’t know why but I’m really attached to this AU? If you want to see more of it please tell me. I hope you liked it!

[goblinkingdomsblog]

Hello I hope you are doing well !! I was wondering if it okay to request the mafia universe where they meet the agent y/n have a moment but then the agent smile and go away in like we will meet again kinda way I’m sorry if it’s too much you don’t have to do it I appreciate your writing and love it thank you for your hard work 💕

They get hurt while running away from the police, but agent y/n helps them - part 1

Members: hyung line.

Genre: mafia!AU, reaction.

Premise: during a police chase, one of the mobsters ends up getting injured. Suddenly, you appear when he least expected it, willing to help him. You say you will see each other again in the future. With complete certainty: after all, you will guarantee it yourself.

TW: (V) = Violence.

Mafia Series Masterlist

Mafia Series Plot

Hii!! I hope you enjoy this post, and that it meets well your request!

I'm really happy to know that you like the things that I write! Thank youu!!! 💜❤😁

+ Sorry for the delay, I wanted to make a long version of this reaction. The part 2 is already posted!

"We'll see each other again, don't worry."

Namjoon:

The damn right leg. It was always that damn leg.

Namjoon gasped, lowering himself against the wall of the dark alley. The smell there was not at all pleasant, and the humidity certainly wouldn't leave his expensive suit unpunished, but he was too busy to care about that at the moment.

Everything happened in a flash: one hour, he was sitting comfortably on a soft leather sofa, talking to the leaders of the other two most important gangs in Seoul (maintaining good relations between partner companies was essential); on the other, he was running down the wet sidewalk, after escaping from the building through a side door. The damned police had somehow discovered the secret meeting, probably through a traitor, and had invaded the place, trying to kill three birds with one stone.

Even his security guards had stayed behind, exchanging shots with the police to give him enough time to escape. He hated having to escape, looking like a coward, but he knew it was necessary.

Another thing he hated: he couldn't run fast without dropping at least one of his weapons, or himself. It was in a fall on the wet street that he had injured his leg, the same one that had broken twice before, and that now was hurting again thanks to his shitty motor coordination. He knew he was being chased, so he got up and forced himself to run for several more blocks, until the pain became too unbearable to walk. It was at that moment that he hid in the alley, where he was until now.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the wet darkness. Without a gun, he could do nothing but watch, hoping his bad luck wasn’t that glaring that day.

When you turned into the alley with your weapon in your fists, using its wall for protection, you saw him immediately.

The mafia boss, sitting on the floor, with an empty expression.

Frowning, you checked if that was a trap and if there was someone around, but he seemed completely alone. Raising your voice, you announced your presence, and the first thing he saw was your well-equipped uniform.

- Hands up. Put them behind your head. - you said, with controlled calm.

Namjoon sighed, obeying slowly.

- I'm unarmed. You don't need to be alarmed.

- Get up and come over here. - you ordered, ignoring his words.

The mobster started to get up, but then he slid back down the wall. He tried a couple more times, until he gave up and lay motionless on the floor.

- Hurry up.

- I am unable. I think I broke my leg again. - he murmured, almost as if admitting it was a shame.

Suspicious, you didn't move forward initially. You checked the alley again, but no one was in sight. So, you decided to use a different strategy: you approached with the gun pointed at his head, after all, none of the henchmen would dare threaten the life of their leader (or at least that was what you hoped to be true).

- If you try anything "funny", I swear I'll kill you, okay? - you hissed, bending down in front of him.

The man's legs were stretched out in front of him, and the right was in an ugly position, proving that he was telling the truth. The bone must have torn the flesh, because a bloody wheel was beginning to form in his pants. It would be disgusting to anyone who was not used to brutality.

- How did you get hurt like that?

- Let's say that this specific bone is not the strongest. It is already the third incident that occurs with the poor thing. - he tried to laugh, perhaps to feel better about himself, but the pain prevented him.

You then took a deep breath. You couldn't leave the man bleeding there, even if he wasn't the best of people. It went against your values.

By slowly lowering the weapon (but keeping it within immediate reach), you began to roll up your uniform sleeves. The basic first aid classes you took when you joined the police would have to do.

- What will you do? - he asked, lost in hesitation and fear, as he noticed your approach.

- I will help you not to bleed a river. But it will really hurt, and it will be a really temporary solution. - you answered, seriously.

Without saying anything more, the man just fell silent, a thoughtful expression appearing on his face.

You put your hands firmly on his leg and, using the techniques you had learned, started to push. The pain was absurd, but he preferred to bite his lip until it bled rather than scream. Of course, being a fugitive from the police should be part of the motivation for not making too much noise.

The cracking of bones when they went back to place was hollow and dark, but at least the meat stopped being kept open. Taking a serious look at him, you noticed that the man was pale with pain, looking like he was about to pass out.

- Breathe in. The worst is over. - you replied, rummaging through your belt until you found the bandages you always carried along, in case of personal emergencies.

Carefully but firmly, you started to bandage his leg, just to stop the bleeding and keep the leg in place for as long as possible.

- Don't move too much, or you could make your situation even worse.

The man remained silent for a few minutes, just watching your serious expression and your nimble hands as you bandaged his leg. He wasn't sure about how to react, after all, that kind of situation was not quite what a mobster would expect from a police agent.

- Uh... why are you helping me?

You lifted your head, facing him directly.

- One of the most important parts of doing justice involves not letting anyone bleed to death. And even if your wound is not that deadly, I believe that waiting for a long time in a wet alley is not the most ideal healing scenario. - letting go and wiping your hands on the leftover gauze, you took your gun out of your belt and stood up - I'll give you the advantage of not immediately telling them where you are. But hope your henchmen find you fast.

He watched you walk away, going back cautiously to the exit of the alley.

- But... I... - unable to formulate a coherent sentence and not wanting to look like an idiot, Namjoon just gave up asking questions - I suppose that's what it means to be on the good side. Thank you anyway.

Surprisingly, you turned around one last time. The smile that shone on your face exposing all your teeth and lifting the corners of your mouth, giving you an air of extreme cleverness, took away the little breath that was left to Namjoon.

- Oh, but you don't need thank me now, because we will meet again. And next time, I'm not going to be that good. - clicking your tongue, you took a step towards the darkness - You better be well prepared.

So, you're gone, leaving him alone in the alley until the moment he would be found by the other gang members (which took a little longer than it should have).

Seokjin:

Shit!

That whole day was being terrible. First, Jin had started by clashing with members of a rival gang. Then the police arrived, shooting anyone they saw ahead. It was in the middle of so many fights that he ended up being shot in the palm of his hand, and his dominant hand!

Pressing his hand against his now-stained shirt chest, he continued walking through the seemingly empty industrial quarter, unsure of how to hold his revolver straight.

Everything should have been a simple negotiation, but things got off track too quickly.

His palm had already bled so badly that the entire front of his shirt was red. In addition, he could no longer move his fingers, which was a really bad signal. Containing a sob, he let a few tears roll down his face.

He was concerned with his own hand, but his biggest concern was if it would lose its usefulness forever. How would he be a hacker after that, without being able to type?

It was at that moment that you found him wandering alone and desperate. You had been looking for the fugitives in the more distant streets, to make sure they didn't get far. However, when you found the boy crying, a part of the adrenaline that dominated your mind dissipated. He barely held a gun, after all.

With patience, you announced your presence. When he saw you, he threw his head back in mourning, as if he were indignant at the heavens.

- I can't handle it right now! - he whimpered.

Rolling your eyes, you approached, your gun in hand.

- Don't worry, I won't shoot if you don't do anything stupid.

Eyes widening, he pulled his hand away from the body, in a strangled cry.

- How would I do it if there's a hole in my hand?!

Even a few feet away, the fact that it was possible to see through his hand was disturbing. The bullet had gone in and out, leaving a hole with color of blood, bones and nerves showing. Yes, the boy's despair was justified. You just kept calm because you've seen a lot of complicated situations like that before.

- You have to stop the bleeding!

- How am I going to do this with one hand?! - the silent tears continued to run down his face.

Sighing, you finally approached, scaring him by holding his hand.

- What is this?!

- A basic aid, considering that the nearest hospital is two kilometers from here. - you replied simply, taking improvised bandages from inside the jacket of your uniform.

There was not much to do about that hand other than to stop the bleeding. Avoiding looking at his blood-soaked shirt (which was not a pleasant sight at all), you began to wrap the wound with the fabric, covering the hole and tightening the bandage tightly.

He let out a sob of pain, but he didn't back down, knowing he needed to put up with it.

- Take good care of this wound.

He wiped his wet face with his healthy hand, sniffling.

- I don't even know if I'll have a hand after this! - the reaction would be comical if it weren't tragic. The panic in his voice was real.

So, you closed your expression, getting completely serious.

- You will take care of your hand and you will stop being pessimistic. It'll be there the next time we meet. - so, you gave a smile of certainty, small but absolute.

Then, moving away, you raised your weapon again, passing by him.

It took a few seconds for Seokjin to understand what you had said. The pain left him with slow thinking.

- Hey, next time?! - he exclaimed, turning in your direction.

Unfortunately, you were too far away to be stopped. He watched you leave for a much longer time than the expected.

Yoongi:

He was no longer able to walk, so he didn't force himself anymore. It didn't matter that he was inside the same building that the police were still in: he just couldn't get away anymore.

Limping painfully for a few more steps, he sat down in the narrow hall, resting his back against one of the walls. He and his two customers had been caught during the delivery of a shipment of heroin, and one of the damned customers had stabbed him to have time to escape. Literally.

With a small knife stuck in his thigh, Yoongi was actually slower than the others, easier to be captured. He was just lucky to be in the company of his most trusted friends, who came into conflict with the police just so he could run. He was worried about them now, of course, and he couldn't even repay their sacrifice and really escape. The pain was so much, and the blood on his clothes was so much, that his veins seemed to be filled with acid, which caused a burning sensation in his entire body.

Closing his mouth to try to hold his breath and feeling the sweat on his forehead, he leaned his head against the wall, looking at the ceiling for a few moments. The knife was still stuck in his leg and needed to be pulled out. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three. Then, lifting his trembling hands, he put them on the handle of the knife. That gesture alone was enough to make more cold sweat run down the back of his neck.

Then, as he prepared to pull the knife out, you appeared at the end of the hall. Wide-eyed, you observed the injured man and what he intended to do.

- Wait! Don't pull it! - you exclaimed, startling him.

I mean, Yoongi got scared, but the only thing he did was to turn his head slowly towards you, without really expressing fear.

You turned the other way, knowing that your colleagues were close. Specifically, a colleague who hated mobsters, and who would certainly have no mercy when shooting a man who was already injured. There was even a trail of drops of blood on the carpet, which went as far as the dealer was left.

- Why not? Sometime it will have to go. - he said, in a weak voice, with the tone of someone who no longer cared.

You slowly lowered your weapon when you realized that he was not carrying any gun. Then you looked at him again, snorting when you realized that you would need to act quickly.

Too many people had been hurt that day. You needed to fix the situation. Then, running up to him, you bent down in front of the man.

- You were stabbed in your thigh, that is full of important blood vessels. In addition, you are already bleeding too much. - you said, scolding him with some anger - If you pull the knife, it can make the situation worse and cause a much worse bleeding. Even though it hurts, the knife seems to be stopping the wound.

Too impressed by how straightforward you were, he just remained silent, nodding his head to signal that he would obey. In the distance, you heard your angered colleague's voice. Then you faced the mobster again, running your hands over his shoulders.

- I'm going to get you out of here and put you in a place where you're not in the immediate sight of a gun. But I can't do anything else. You will need hospital care.

Yoongi opened his eyes wide when you started to help him up, shocked by the situation as a whole.

- Why are you doing this? - he asked, his voice low and strangled with pain.

With effort, you managed to get him upright, but you were practically carrying his full weight.

- Because I think people should go through a fair trial, and not just get shot in the head like will happen if I leave you here. - striving to walk, you started down the corridor, towards the basement of the building - And make sure that your leg does not leave a trail of blood behind us, even if you have to tighten the fabric of your pants around the wound.

Again, he obeyed without protest, containing a cry of pain as he prevented the blood from dripping on the floor. He was shaking and sweaty, and the pain he was enduring must have been scary. Still, that was better than leaving him to die.

You followed as quickly as possible to the staircase, and each step was a sacrifice for Yoongi. The black mask you were wearing, part of the uniform, prevented him from seeing your face, but your eyebrows were frown at the smell of blood and the man in agony.

When you reached the basement, you hid the man behind a tall and heavy closet. The place was small, dusty and probably untouched for months. Still, you left him on the floor, sitting.

Stretching your aching back, you searched for the bad and cheap phone you used when you went to work, for emergencies. You turned it on and handed it over to the injured man, just before standing.

- Use this to call someone who can help you. It's the most I can do for you. - you said, as soon as he held the little electronic device.

Pale but with lively eyes, Yoongi took another deep breath to be able to speak through the pain.

- Thanks. - he said simply, closing his eyes when a flash of pain passed through his body. Then, he opened his eyes again - Isn't this phone tapped? It would be pretty easy to track me, then.

With a mysterious expression, you walked away. Even though you were wearing a mask, he could see the corners of your mouth going up to form a mysterious smile.

- You will have to find it out until the next time we meet. - you replied, taking your weapon from the belt just before leaving by the same staircase you had traveled before - Do not expect me to help you again.

Hoseok:

Hoseok was crying, something he hated to do. However, getting shot in the chest was not something that happened every day, and it was okay to cry in a situation like that.

With his hands pressed to the bleeding wound, he staggered down a deserted road in the hot dry night. The road was flanked by plantations, since it was located in the countryside, and the only noises there were that of the plants moving with the wind and that of the nocturnal animals.

He was afraid of those animals, after all, he smelled of blood. Still, nothing too dangerous should be there, as farmers would exterminate any creature. Even the "creature" himself, probably, if he appeared bleeding and wanted by the police in one of the houses far from the road.

He stumbled forward, needing to lean on one of the wooden fences. The pain in his chest was so strong that he had no idea where he was running to.

Suddenly, he felt the cold muzzle of a gun at the back of his head. As he bent over the fence, he stopped paying attention to the environment, and didn't notice when you approached silently.

- Hands up! - you hissed between teeth.

With a high-pitched cry, he remained in place.

- I'm using my hands to stop the bleeding from the shot your colleague gave me in the chest! - he exclaimed, his voice exuding real pain.

Swallowing hard, you wondered if it was true, and ordered him to turn around. When he did it, weak, the front of the shirt soaked in blood was proof enough.

The man's luck was that the shot had hit the right side of his chest and not the heart. The bullet was still lodged in his chest, but the bleeding was not aggressive enough to had hit an artery. That man was very, very lucky.

- Give me your gun. - you said, forcing the man to hand over his revolver. As soon as you made sure he was unarmed, you lowered your own weapon - Let me see.

By taking the man's hands away and looking more closely at the wound hole, you were sure that no very important veins had been hit. Then you started to take off the man's coat.

- Hey, what are you doing?! Isn't it enough that you invaded our place and killed 4 people?! - he exclaimed, irritated and scared.

Hearing those words was not pleasant, but they were true. So you didn't answer, just folding the jacket efficiently and wrapping it diagonally around his body, tying it tightly on his back.

- I'm helping you, you bastard.

Arching his eyebrows, he realized you were telling the truth.

- Why? - he asked, confused.

- Because nobody else is going to die today. I'll make sure of that. - you answered seriously - Now tighten the wound again. Prevent too much blood from being lost.

The man was already pale, but when he heard of blood, he became even more so. He swallowed hard, his face still wet with tears.

- Are you sure that I will not die?

You started to smile wryly, wanting to laugh at his crybaby face. However, as you watched his expression, you realized that his panic was real. You then changed your expression, smiling without showing your teeth but confidently.

- I am sure. We will meet in the future, because I will keep you alive. - you said, walking away - Now, run to the house after this plantation behind you and ask for help. I have to go back to the mission.

He wanted to say something else, but you were already walking away. The courage you gave him through your steady smile was enough.

He had the strength to run to the nearest house and ask for help.

Maknae line here.

The images used on this post are not mine, credits to the owners!

Kisses from the Goblin Kingdom! :)